--- - 2 - ---
The light broke over the Nibel Mountains in a thin stream of yellow, casting spidery shadows across the landscape. Two pairs of eyes watched as the group below them approached, invisible to the travellers themselves. They noticed, but did not acknowledge, the presence of the cattish Cosmo tribesman--it was more the fact that he travelled with humans that put them on guard. As the group approached the pair waited, not needing to converse. Finally, a silent consensus was reached.
The older Aicha tribesmember stretched languidly, rising to her feet. The party below stopped as they caught sight of her gaunt form, and the Cosmo seemed to be telling them something. The younger tribesman at her side, she loped down the mountain to meet them.
(Nothing but a cub,) she thought as she got a better look at the Cosmo. (He carries the scent of life, though.)
"I am Nauri, Lifedancer of Aicha tribe," she said, voice cool and gravelly. "This one is Rhek,my trainee. We watch these mountains. Why do you seek the Aicha?"
The Cosmo bared his throat, the traditional--if outdated--symbol of respect. "I am Nanaki, son of Seto," he responded. "I have come to seek the help of the Aicha."
"And are these humans members of your Tribe?" Nauri asked. "Why do you bring them with you?"
Nanaki was silent for some time. "They are not of my Tribe," he said, "but they have served the Planet. It is for them I come. They have a favor to ask of the Lifedancers."
Rhek slipped up to one of them quietly, inhaling deeply. "This one carries the scent of death with him," he said softly, uncomfortable speaking directly to the Lifedancer.
Nauri's tail flicked. "Yes. Death and Mako. The rest smell fine--fine, that is, for humans. Why does the Aicha want to help these humans, or even its Cosmo brethren?" her question was addressed to Rhek.
Rhek sat down, scratching absently behind his ear with one paw. "...they are searching for the one we found?" he asked.
Nauri gave out a yelp of anger, leaping to Rhek's side to cuff his ear. "No!" she growled. "Learn. Now!"
A couple of the humans exchanged glances, but Nanaki's tense posture was enough to keep them silent. Nauri turned back to Nanaki, and blinked slowly.
"Cosmo Tribe of Anshaki clan, be welcomed in the mountains of Aicha Tribe of Anshaki clan. You search for one that you've lost, and we do not search for one we've found. If they are one and the same, you are lucky. But because they are not, you may stay here until you find what it is you seek. Rhek, take them back to the Dens. I will watch the mountain."
Rhek, still smarting from the cuffs Nauri had delivered, turned sullenly and lead the way back into the mountain. One of the humans began to make a smart remark, but a soft command from Nanaki silenced him. Behind them, Nauri was sniffing the wind. What the scents told her, no one could know.
--- - - - ---
(Where am I...?)
It was dark. That was the only thing Squall could tell when he woke up. Dark--and quite cold. he was in the ruins of something, the trouble was identifying what.
There was a massive archway framed by the ruins of two shattered statues to his right, and only a broken pathway to his left. the place stunk--a smell halfway between a sulfuric tang and the stench of death and decay. The breeze came from the cracks in the walls, when it came at all. Through the cracks he could get glimpses of the outside world--mostly more ruins, as far as he could tell.
Standing up slowly, he noticed that aside from bruises on his right hip and knee, he seemed unharmed. He still had his pack and his gunblade, and the monsters that he had been fighting weren't in attendance, so he was three points better off already.
Still, it would have helped a lot if he knew, even roughly, where in the world he was.
Footsteps sounded from somewhere in the ruins, and he glanced around. There was a man in yellow apparently making his rounds, a gun (unlike any design Squall had ever seen) held tightly in his hands. There was something odd about the man that wasn't quite placeable--an irregularity in the rhythm of the man's footsteps, a certain tilt of the head and forward gaze--that was vaguely unsettling.
Making a conscious effort not to draw his gunblade, Squall started to move towards the man. "Hello?" he called.
No response. The soldier's steps never faltered, and he never even so much as glanced up.
(...he must not have heard me,) Squall guessed. He tried again, somewhat louder. "Excuse me?"
The man's mindless walking continued.
Now Squall did draw his gunblade. The man had rounded the corner on the path, and was walking straight towards him now. But his eyes seemed fixed on a point somewhere behind Squall, as if the SeeD was invisible to him. The trek continued, the uneven beat of his steps echoing emptily in the ruined hall.
A similar pair of footsteps sounded from behind him, and Squall turned to see another armed man emerging from the archway. Cautiously, he stepped out of the path of the two converging men. If they wouldn't acknowledge him, they had to acknowledge each other--
The reaction was once he hadn't even considered.
As soon as the two came within easy talking distance of each other, the first one shouldered his weapon and sent a tongue of flame leaping from the muzzle towards the other. The man dropped without a sound, eyes still unfocused. The first man lowered his weapon again, and continued moving toward the archway.
He had dropped the man without a noise, without breaking stride, and without his eyes ever focusing on his opponent.
Squall took a deep, silent breath. The man was human--looked human, at least--but he didn't act like any human should. Even under the influence of magical status effects, no one would act with this kind of single-minded determination. This kind of... inhumanity.
Stepping out onto the path, he sent a Scan spell at the man. The information that flowed into his mind was imcomprehensible--he couldn't make head or tail of it, it was so alien. He spent a moment, unsure of what to do.
Gathering his resolve, he moved up behind the man and put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to make him turn around. Involuntarily, his entire arm spasmed--the man's flesh was as cold as dry ice. The pain seemed to numb the entire left half of his body--until the man turned and sent the same firey blast at him. He fell to th ground, gasping in pain.
The man started walking--this time back toward where he had come from. Having been turned around, it seemed beyond his capacity to right his direction and resume his original course. By the time the pain had passed enough for Squall to consider moving, he was gone.
Moving stiffly, Squall hauled himself into a sitting position. Pulling an X-Potion out of his belt, he popped the cork and downed the liquid. And, immediately, he felt something wrong. The healing fluid seemed to be tearing up his insides--pain washed through him again, and he fell to the ground.
As he blacked out again, he could hear a faint thread of music from somewhere far away, thin, spectral voices floating along inside it....
Heeay-uui... lo gun aaurom....