VI
"We would not bow to sorcery were it a layman's trade. All things terrifying are ill-understood."
--Centran proverb
"Hey, I think he's awake, ya know?"
Squall's eyes were open for almost a minute before he realized that they were open. It was oppressively dark in... wherever he was. There was a cloth bandage wrapped around his skull, somewhat too tightly; the air had the peculiar smell of old seawater, fish, and the cleaners that were supposed to eradicate the fish smell that he was more accustomed to smelling by the dock sheds in Balamb.
Somehow, he guessed that Balamb was not his location.
"GOOD," said a clipped, sharp voice. Squall closed his eyes again, groaning inwardly: those voices could only belong to Fujin and Raijin, the former Disciplinary Committee at Balamb Garden, and Seifer's de facto "posse."
As if the universe couldn't leave him with that bit of bad news, another voice joined the first to--a practiced blend of smug arrogance and haughty wry aplomb that could only belong to Seifer Almasy, because he was the only one in thw world who could practice it so well.
"You could thank me, you know," Seifer said, and Squall blinked to adjust his eyes.
"Why?" Squall croaked, throat raw from salt air and adrenaline and who knew what else. He really wished he had enough energy to call up an Ultima spell or two--just in case they became necessary. With Seifer, this wasn't such a farfetched concern.
"Well, to start with, I saved your life," Seifer said, grinning. "So I guess that makes you in my debt."
"You?" Squall asked weakly. Seifer stood up, flourishing his gunblade, and smiled even more broadly.
"Yes, Mr. Leader. Crusading defender of the helpless, that's me," he said. "A bit of fancy footwork, a dash of striking heroics, and Silver Armor Man goes flying out to sea to sleep with the fish. And then you have the good grace to drip blood all over my coat."
"He ain't lyin', ya know?" Raijin broke in. "I mean, it was great, ya know?"
"QUIET," Fujin commanded--and for once, Squall could almost have thanked her. Seifer's dramatics were hard enough to deal with when he wasn't suffering a head injury. Fujin turned toward him, red eye glinting in the low light, and asked "REST?"
Squall nodded, still confused and utterly unable to shake the feeling there was something Seifer wasn't telling him. It would be an understatement to say he didn't trust him. It was hard to trust a man who had very nearly destroyed the world.
In all fairness, the world still existed, and Seifer had been much more of an accomplice than an instigator--an odd role for him to take, and likely not one he would soon forget or repeat. Ultimecia had been an anomaly in more ways that one, and as long as crazed sorceresses from the future didn't start popping out of the woodwork it was probably safe enough to assume that Seifer would restrain himself to no more than the usual acts of misconduct.
Even so, the usual acts of misconduct provided reason aplenty for suspension of trust...
"Where are we?"
"Fisherman's Horizon," Seifer said, as if it should have been obvious. "Of course."
"What happened?"
"It was weird, ya know?" said Raijin. "This weird black ship comes in an' all, and then they start whackin' stuff up, ya know? An' then all of a sudden the Mayor actually wants us fight, ya know? An'--"
"QUIET," Fujin repeated, and proceeded to summarize in a way only she could. "FLEET, COME. ATTACK. REPULSED. VICTORY."
"Yeah," Raijin said. "So, anyway, the mayor asks us to actually fight an' all, so we do."
"Then I see you playing miniature hero, and I just have to come help out," Seifer smirked. "You should really learn to play safe, you know."
"Shut up," Squall croaked, trying to plot out escape scenarios when he wasn't entirely sure he could stand without dizzy spells sending him crashing to the floor again. This still wasn't making sense. This was Seifer, Squall's self-styled rival and nemesis, continual opponent, enemy, former torturer, for Hyne's sake... and rescuer? One of these things was not like the other.
He had tried to kill Squall on several occasions. And yet...
(Times were different,) he thought. (He was Ultimecia's puppet. He went chasing after a dream, only to find out he was chasing shadows. For Seifer, that must have been... well, I doubt he could deal with it. And I doubt he thought he could go back.)
"So, to repay your life debt, you can start by filling me in about what's been happening," Seifer said, squatting next to Squall and setting his gunblade on the floor. "News isn't exactly easy to come by here in the middle of nowhere. Well? Come on. Cough it up."
Squall closed his eyes. (Too much has happened.) "We fought Ultimecia. We came back. Rinoa went to work things out with her father. Then she disappeared, and we got called in to investigate. Then Selphie disappeared. Then Diablos disappeared. We came to Fisherman's Horizon to investigate, and arrived in the middle of an invasion."
"Well, gee, when you put it like that, your life must really be boring." Seifer put a hand on Squall's shoulder, and grinned. "Don't worry about it. I bet you'll find them sooner or later."
..Seifer is offering me reassurances.) It was hard not to snort. (I must really look depressed.) "Really," he said flatly.
Seifer laughed. "Believe me, that Squad A girl is like a bad gil--you just can't seem to get rid of her."
Squall frowned slightly at the phrase he had chosen--get rid of her. "I need to get back to the Ragnarok," he said, struggling to sit up. Seifer pushed him back, shaking his head.
"You mean the airship that was here? Forget it. It left."
"What?"
"You're stranded here, buddy," Seifer said. Squall stared up at him for a second.
"You can't mean--"
Seifer nodded. "Welcome to Fisherman's Horizon," he said.
-
Quistis stared out over the waves from the cockpit of the Ragnarok, wondering what to do next. They were clearly up against an enemy out of their league--they had killed Squall, hadn't they?--and she had no idea what to do. The black ship had disappeared without a trace; even from the Ragnarok's high vantage, no one had been able to see it. And now she was the leader. They hadn't even asked her; it had just seemed to be the default procedure.
She suddenly realized that this was what Squall must have felt like when Cid had called him to his office and announced that he would be the leader of Balamb Garden, and then effectively disappeared. Quistis didn't want to be leader, didn't want the responsibility. But given the other choices available...
(I couldn't even be an instructor,) she thought morosely. (I got fired. "No leadership abilities--failed instructor," they said. Now I have to take over?) It wasn't fair. It shouldn't have happened.
But it had. And there was absolutely no use in arguing that, now.
"So! Quistis! What are we going to do, now?" Nida asked from the pilot's seat for what, judging by his tone, was likely the third or forth time. Quistis started, and shook her head.
"I have no idea what Squall was planning," she admitted with some chagrin, "so I guess we'll have to do the best we can... alone."
"Where are we going to go?"
Quistis turned to stare at her hands, clutching the gunblade hilt Zell had found. The blade lay next to her, a leather half-sheath protecting the sharp tip and blade. Griever sparkled in the light gleaming through the window, and, for a second, Quistis wondered what made Squall name the lion. It was an oddly sentimental name for someone so outwardly controlled.
And oddly... foreboding, as well.
"I don't know," she said. She knew standard Garden procedures for when someone died: not an unheard-of event in the massive military organization. The next-of-kin was notified, and given any personal belongings the deceased might have had. But Squall, an orphan like the rest of them, had no next-of-kin. The closest he had ever had was Ellone, the person he called--no, the person he used to call--Sis.
"Head to Esthar," Quistis said on impulse. Nida raised an eyebrow, nodded his assent, and pulled back on the controls. The Ragnarok slid smoothly out across the ocean towards the infamous isolation of the Esthar continent.
-
President Laguna Loire of Esthar woke up to the synthesized chime of the doorbell to his suite, and nearly mumbled something about ten minutes more. Then, realizing what time it really was, he vaulted out of his bed and ran to the door.
"Late sleeper?" Kiros asked as Laguna opened the door, and Laguna colored slightly.
"I have a meeting today, don't I?" he asked.
"An appointment, they'd normally call it," Kiros said. "They'll be here any time."
"Darn," Laguna said. "And I was having such a nice dream--"
"Raine or Julia?" Kiros asked, causing the president to blush a furious scarlet.
"None of your business," he mumbled, pulling his fingerless gloves on and his denim coat off the wall, violating nearly every code of Estharan dress and decorum they had ever bothered to write down. "Who wants to see me?"
"Wouldn't say his name," Kiros said. "But he said he had urgent business with you and Ellone."
"Ellone? Uh, for state business? That's weird, isn't it," Laguna said.
"Last I checked. She's waiting for you in the meeting room," Kiros said, turning to leave, long braids swinging. "I'd get down there if I were you."
"Right," he said. "I'm coming. I'm coming."
Stepping into the meeting room, Laguna was just in time to see a silver-clad Esthar Herald moved into the room and step aside as a man in ridiculously large armor stepped in. He looked... almost like an Iron Giant. His first reaction was the same one he had had when he had seen Squall for the first time: (Man, that guy looks way too serious.)
"Welcome on behalf of Esthar and--" Laguna started formally, when the man thrust his hand out towards Ellone and sent a Demi spell raging towards her. Laguna reacted almost instantly; his training as a Galbadian soldier came in handy sometimes. Leaping over to Ellone, he yanked her out of the vortex just as it reached its widest point.
Bereft of one target it went raging towards the next closest one--the president himself.
There was hardly time to scream for security before Laguna vanished. The armored man took a look around, fairly obviously calculating his chances and his time, cast a Demi spell on himself, and disappeared mere seconds after Laguna did. Stunned silence fell over the meeting room.
Moments too late, the Esthar guards came running in. Ellone looked at them, eyes wide and shocked.
Kiros was already engaging in a rapid-fire explanation of the abduction to the foremost guard when Ellone swayed, one hand moving toward her mouth. Ward caught her, and just im time--a moment later she shuddered, and went entirely limp.