The waves broke lazily against the shores of the Cape of Good Hope, bringing with them a few of the sea plants not lucky enough to escape with the last low tide. The beach had not been cleaned for some time, and there was an abundance of rotting seaweed washed up against the rocks.

I wonder how long it would take me to catch a fish here, Seifer wondered. Probably even the dead ones know enough to get away from me.

Besides, he had left his fishing rod in Balamb. After cutting it in half with his gunblade, it probably wouldn't have worked that well anyway. Not that he would notice the difference....

Picking up a rock, he threw it with all his might out across the water. Why had he even come back here. Searching for fond memories of his childhood? He didn't have any; the few memories he did have were thankfully vague.

He remembered that he wasn't an orphan. At least, he hadn't been when he first came here. His father just hadn't wanted to deal with him, that was all. His only clear memory of the man was of him bellowing at Seifer to stop crying, then at his mother when she tried to step in. He didn't even remember what they looked like; all he'd gained was the memory of his father's shouting voice.

It was his mother's idea to put him in the orphanage. Ultimecia had told him as much, while she was busy using his newly recalled memories of Matron to make him her little lap dog. His father hadn't even known, when Seifer was smuggled down to Centra. Separated from him at age four, Seifer had not had time to learn to hate his father. And he was the last adult male he saw for years.

Had he ever realized that he was imitating his father at the orphanage? He couldn't remember. He remembered promising himself never to seem weak to the other kids. To anyone. He despised weakness when he saw it in others, and it was unthinkable for him to display it himself. That resolve had stood all the way through his time at the orphanage, and even the years at Garden. And part of that resolve had been to keep everyone at arm's length, to make sure no one could get past his guard.

He had let his guard down once. When he was seventeen, he decided to return to Timber over the summer, and find his father. He still didn't know why. But when he got there, he had met a girl. A year younger than he and full of passion, she seemed intent on freeing the city from the Galbadians. Her enthusiasm had drawn him in, and before long he had forgotten his father entirely.

As much as he had loved the time spent with her that summer, once he was back in Garden, the experience had terrified him. He couldn't think of anything but what could have happened, how easily something could have slipped past his lowered defenses and destroyed everything he had worked so hard to become. He couldn't let anyone have that kind of power over him. When the summer was over, he had left Timber, resolving never to look back.

Funny, that if he hadn't broken that resolve and returned to Timber, none of this would have happened.

He drove his gublade into the rocky cliff. Thanks to Ultimecia, he had a whole flood of memories to deal with now. And without much exception, they were memories he'd just as soon stayed forgotten.

But now his present was an even worse mess, as he had cleverly managed to alienate everyone who had even tolerated him in the past, burning all his bridges out from under himself.

I can't stay here forever, he thought. Fujin and Raijin are waiting for me back in Winhill. I've gotta figure out where I go from here. Hell, where can I go? Everywhere —



He spun at the voice, instinctively grabbing at his gunblade — and failing, due to its position in the rock. Cursing, he yanked the weapon free,

And froze.

I'm sorry if I startled you, Edea said, a slight edge of wry humor in her voice.

Trying to regain some sense of dignity, Seifer casually holstered his gunblade. Not at all.

What are you doing here, Seifer? Edea asked.

How the hell should I know? He glared out across the ocean. It's not like I have many choices left.

I see. She stepped up beside him. Seifer, I want to apologize for the part I had in all this.

It wasn't your fault. I got myself into this.

She was shaking her head. Yes, it was. I made the choice to surrender to Ultimecia. I didn't see any other way...but I also didn't see how terribly things would turn out. I'm sorry.

Seifer didn't reply at first. She's sorry. And what does that change? I made a choice, too.

I know it won't be easy for you, she went on, but I want you to know...that I understand. Ultimecia manipulated you in the worst possible way, just like she did me. I know that...and I forgive you.

Seifer's eyes were stinging. As a child, he had seen her become a Sorceress — or at least inherit another Sorceress' power. From that point, he dreamed about growing up and becoming her knight, protecting her against a hoarde of imaginary evils. She had obviously known, and Ultimecia had used that knowledge...to destroy him.

At least there was one person in the world who understood.

NO! Angrily, he wiped the tears from his eyes, taking a few quick steps down the slope. Show no weakness. Keep ahold of yourself; it's all you've got left.

What are you doing here? he asked abruptly, seeking to change the subject.

Edea sighed. I can't go back yet. I tried, but I just...needed some more time to sort everything out. Away from people.

She's running away, too. That thought brought a sudden flash of anger. What does she have to run for?

You're a fool, he said tonelessly.



You've still got people who care about you, but you're out here instead of with them. You've got a choice, and you ran away. I —

His voice caught. He had been about to tell her everything. How, by the time he realized the truth of what he was doing, he had already given up everything; how he had pressed on, then, because there was nothing else left for him; nowhere to go if he gave up and left.

But in the end, he could not even bear to see the results of his efforts. When he had completed the Sorceress' last command, he had simply ran, not watching the ensuing battle, not caring who won. He just ran.

His eyes were stinging again. Half-heartedly, he told himself not to show any weakness, but he was now beyond caring. What difference would it make? Either way, he had lost everything.

Gently, Edea placed her hand on his shoulder. You'll find a way, Seifer, she said. Just don't give up hope.