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Legal Stuff: Look, I didn't own FF8 last time you asked, and I still don't. Do I have to keep repeating myself? What do you people want from me? Fine! I'm a bad person, okay! Are you happy now? ::sobs quietly in corner::

Sorry about that, I feel a lot better now. Enjoy the story.

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Time's Orphan

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By 18th Angel

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Chapter Three Heroes and Villains

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      Passing through the archway into the cavernous first floor hallway, Zell was hit by a wave of nostalgia. Balamb Garden was exactly as her remembered it. The plants that adorned the main hall were pruned to perfect symmetry. The water below the raised walkway was as calm and clear as a sheet of glass. The marble floor was polished to the point where it could be used as a mirror. The only thing that looked different were the people. Everyone Squall and Zell had gone to school with had long since graduated, either into college and 'real life' or into SeeD. The Garden was now full of fresh young faces, much younger than either man could ever imagine himself having been.

      Zell stopped a young SeeD cadet who walked by them.

      "'Scuse me. Where can we find Headmaster Trepe?"

      The girl's eyes widened when she saw who was asking her. Obviously when she had woken up that morning she hadn't expected to have two of the most famous SeeDs ever asking her for directions.

      "Uh...Sh-She's in h-h-her of-office...S-Sir." She said, eyes fixed firmly on her shoes, her voice barely coming above a whisper. "On th-the th-th-third..."

      "Thanks." Zell smiled. "I remember now."

      "Y-y-yes Sir." The girl saluted quickly and hurried away.

      "I think I scared her." Zell said in disbelief.

      "Did you see those gloves she had on?" Squall asked. "You're probably a hero of hers."

      "Oh, I'm so not hero material."

      "You don't have to tell me." Squall said with a slight chuckle.

      Zell smiled at that. Taking actual action to find Amara seemed to be helping Squall a lot. He was quickly getting back to his normal self again.

*   *   *   *   *

      "Squall!" Quistis stood and ran to Squall when they entered her office. She threw her arms around Squall and hugged him tightly. "Irvine just told me." She said. "Are you all right?"

      "I'll be better once I find her." Squall said.

      Quistis nodded and gave one more reassuring squeeze before letting go of Squall.

      "Hey; how 'bout a little sugar for Zell?"

      Quistis laughed and embraced Zell warmly. "It's good to see you again, Zell."

      "You too." Zell replied. "I just it were under better circumstances."

      "Yeah."

      "I'm guessing there's been no word?" Squall hadn't noticed Irvine in the room, though he guessed he should have expected him to be there. Irvine sat in one of the two chairs across from Quistis' desk, his son asleep in his lap.

      "Nothing." Squall said. "No ransom notes. No phone calls... Nothing."

      "I just can't believe anyone would do that." Quistis said. "Who would ever want to hurt Amara?"

      "I don't think it's Amara they're trying to hurt." Squall replied. "At least, I keep praying it's not."

      "Tell me what you need." She said. "I'll do everything I can."

      Squall nodded. "We need the Ragnarok."

*   *   *   *   *

      "Together, we will return my Mistress Ultimecia from the void your parents banished her to." Adjani said. "Then, the great Ultimecia will reward me, her loyal servant. She will take me home, back to where I belong."

      "I'm not going to help you." Amara said defiantly. "You're crazy!"

      "What a rude little girl you are." Adjani said. "Don't you want to go home, Amara?"

      Amara nodded.

      "Well that's all I want. And you've only been here a few days. I haven't seen my home in eleven years. I was your age when your parents and their friends stranded me here! Here in this...ugly...primitive world!" She grabbed Amara roughly on either side of her head, pulling her closer until their faces were mere inches apart.

      "We will resurrect my Mistress, Amara! You will help me go home! WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT!" With a final, wordless scream, Adjani shoved her away. Amara lost her balance and tumbled down the stairs to the bottom of the platform. Amara landed roughly, banging the back of her head on the metal floor. Tears sprang to her eyes. She fought to keep them from spilling out.

      "Why are you...so mean?"

      "I don't have time to be nice." Adjani said coldly. "My Mistress has waited too long already." She motioned to the two guards. "Take her to the Altar."

      "Yes, my Queen." The two men said in unison. The grabbed Amara by the arms and pulled her toward the back of the throne room. Amara didn't know what was supposed to happen at 'the Altar', but it couldn't be anything good.

      "No!" She tried to pull away from her captors. "Let me go!"

      "BE STILL!" Adjani's voice echoed through the chamber. Amara felt her blood turn to ice. The Sorceress' power slammed into her, chilling her to the bone. All the strength went out of Amara. She tried to keep struggling, but her muscles wouldn't respond.

      Beyond the throne lay an ornate stone altar. Magical runes and symbols were carved into every surface of the altar. One of the guards lifted Amara up and set her down on a raised platform next to the altar. He kept a firm hand on her shoulder to keep her from escaping. The top of the altar was draped with crimson silk. A small bowl of pure gold sat on the altar. More runes and sigils were carved into the bowl.

      "Arm."

      With no help from her, Amara's arm stretched out over the golden bowl. Reaching into her robe, Adjani pulled out a knife. The blade was the same gold as the bowl, and the hilt covered with brilliant jewels. At the sight of the blade, Amara tried to get away. But even though the guard had let go of her and she could control her body again, her arm remained immobile. She struggled, but it was as if she was held in an invisible vise.

      She squeezed her eyes shut as Adjani brought the blade toward her.

      "Don't worry." Adjani said. "I only need a little blood. The last thing I want is for you to be injured."

      Amara had been as brave as she could be. She screamed when she felt the knife slice across her fingertips. Tears poured down her cheeks as ragged sobs tore through her.

      "That's good." Adjani said a few moments later. "That's all we need for now." Amara felt a warm sensation spread through her fingers. Opening her eyes, she saw Adjani holding her hand. A bright green glow passed between their hands. When the glow subsided, Adjani let go and Amara dared to glance at her fingertips. There was no sign of injury; the cuts were gone. A small pool of Amara's blood filled the bottom of the golden bowl.

      "A little bit of your blood." Adjani said, more to herself than to Amara. "And..." She slowly drew the knife across her palm, hissing slightly at the pain. She held her hand over the bowl, letting her blood fill it completely. "...a lot of mine."

      Adjani's hand glowed for a moment. The deep knife wound sealed itself perfectly; the only evidence that Adjani had ever cut herself was the blood on her palm. Taking a deep breath, Adjani cleaned the blood off of her hand with a single lick. She seemed to be suppressing a gag reflex as she swallowed her own blood.

      Waving her hands slowly over the bowl, Adjani began chanting in a strange language. As she spoke, the symbols etched into the altar and bowl began to glow. The blood in the bowl bubbled and steamed, boiling away until only a thin layer lay in the bottom. Adjani reached into her robes once again and pulled out a handful of small stones with more runes carved into them. She tossed the stones haphazardly into the bowl and examined where they fell.

      After a moment, Adjani sighed and stepped back. "Just as I suspected." She said. "She does not have the power yet. We'll need the others." She left the altar and sank back into her throne, suddenly looking incredibly tired. "Take her back. And bring me the Knight."

      "Yes, my Queen."

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      --Begin Aerial Combat Simulation--

      A series of TV screens set into the wall of the control room showed a group of teenagers piloting the Ragnarok in some sort of dogfight.

      "So you use it as a simulator now?" Squall asked.

      Quistis shrugged. "We were lucky just to get the ship at all." She said. "A crew was a bit too much to ask for. So we're training the new SeeD cadets to pilot it. The simulation program is built-in."

      "So are your students gonna be terribly disappointed if we take it off their hands for a few days?" Zell asked.

      "Where did you get the idea that you're taking it off their hands?" Quistis asked.

      "I thought you said we could take it." Zell said.

      "I said you could use it." Quistis replied. "They're flying it."

      "Not a chance." Squall said.

      "Not a debatable issue." Quistis shot back.

      "You understand what's happening here, don't you?" Squall said. "We're going up against a Sorceress we know nothing about. You remember what that's like? Those kids aren't even SeeDs yet!"

      "They're only a week away from their entrance exam." Quistis said. "Besides; can you fly the Ragnarok?"

      "Well...no."

      "Zell?"

      "Not really?"

      Irvine shook his head silently.

      "Well I can't either." Quistis said. "Now, would you like to meet your crew?"

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      The four cadets were lined up in front of the Ragnarok's entrance ramp. With one exception, they all stood tall and proud. The lone male of the group seemed especially excited.

      "These are our top cadets." Quistis said. "Alexandra Morningstar." She gestured to the tall, dark-skinned gunner. "Nesta Henely." The petite, brown haired girl who had sat in the pilot's seat nodded respectfully. "Morgan Stormaire." The copilot, a big, goofy looking boy with wild black hair smiled and saluted directly to Squall. "And Agnessa Levine." The navigator turned out to be the same cadet Zell had spoken to earlier. She looked down at her shoes and gave them a slight nod, never actually daring to meet their eyes.

      "The four of you are dismissed." Quistis continued. "Report back here at 0800 for pre-flight."

      The four cadets saluted and made their way out into the main hall. All except for Morgan. The boy wore the look of an excited puppy as he practically ran to where Squall stood.

      "You're him right?"

      "Depends who 'he' is." Squall replied coolly.

      "You're Squall Leonhart."

      "Yes."

      "Oh wow!" The kid seemed short of breath. "It's such an honor to meet you, Sir! I've read all about you! About how you beat the Sorceress and how you stopped Time Compression and...everything. And I'm just so anxious to be working with you and I promise I won't let you down. I mean, I know I'm not an actual SeeD yet, but I've been training really hard and I'm even learning to use a gunblade just like yours. Well, not exactly like yours, it's a really cheap one, but I'm getting pretty good with it. I mean, not as good as you, but then who is, right?"

      He took a deep breath before launching into more speech.

      "And don't worry about us piloting the Ragnarok for you, Sir. 'Cause no one knows that ship like the four of us. I mean, we could pilot it blindfolded, no problem. Especially Nesta, she's just amazing. And I think Agnessa actually memorized a map of the world so anywhere you wanna go, we can get there in..."

      Squall glanced around desperately for someone to rescue him.

      "Mr. Stormaire." Quistis interrupted.

      Morgan whipped around and stood at attention.

      "Shouldn't you be getting packed?"

      "Oh, right. Yes Headmistress. Sorry. I didn't mean to..."

      "Just go, Morgan."

      "Yes Ma'am." Morgan seemed reluctant to drag himself away from Squall but he followed orders.

      As soon as the door slid closed behind Morgan, Zell and Irvine fell to the floor laughing.

      "Oh, money can't buy that kinda comedy!" Irvine roared.

      "Squall...You should have...seen your face!" Zell could barely talk, he was laughing so hard. "I've never...seen you so frightened...in my entire...life!"

      "What is that kid on?" Squall asked.

      "Just a healthy dose of hero worship." Quistis replied. "He's been like that ever since he got here."

      "I'd still check his dorm for drugs if I was you."

      "Be kind." Quistis replied. "The kid's had it rough. He never had an actual father figure in his life, so he just sort of...adopted you. There are certainly worse people he could have picked to emulate."

      "Does he ever calm down?" Squall asked hopefully.

      Quistis shrugged. "I guess he's got to sleep some time."

*   *   *   *   *

      "Nesta! Hey, Nesta!" Nesta turned to see Morgan running to catch up with her. She rolled her eyes.

      "Do you realize who that was?" Morgan demanded.

      "No Morgan, I have no idea. Who was it?"

      Morgan completely missed her sarcasm. "That's Squall Leonhart!" He said.

      "Oh good. Your stalking can move into the 'active' phase now."

      "I wonder what he needs the Ragnarok for."

      "I'm sure he just wanted to hang out with you for a few days, Morgan."

      Once again, her sarcastic reply sailed right over Morgan's head. "You really think so."

      Nesta sighed. Clearly wits weren't going to work here. She would just have to be direct. "Morgan, I beg you not to embarrass us around those guys. I don't think Agnessa would survive looking bad in front of Zell Dincht.

      "What do you mean, 'embarrass'?" Morgan asked. "I just want to know why he's here."

      Nesta sighed. "Okay, here's the deal." She said. "If you promise to leave Squall alone unless he talks to you first, I will perform a Herculean labor and convince Agnessa to go to the dance with you after our SeeD exam. Deal?"

      Morgan thought about that for a moment. He seemed to be weighing the chance to talk his personal hero to death against the opportunity to dance with their beautiful, but painfully shy navigator.

      "You really think she'd go with me?" He asked.

      "I think I can chip through the shell for one night." Nesta said. "But only if you pretend to be normal until this mission is over."

      "Well..." Morgan's internal conflict was obvious. He'd had his eyes on Agnessa for years, but had yet to find a way to approach her. On the other hand, he had idolized Squall Leonhart for most of his life. In the end, his hormones won. He nodded.

      "So we have a deal?" Nesta asked.

      "Yeah." Morgan said. "Deal."

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TBC