Chapter 9

"What did you say to her?!" The old mage shoved Clyde, who fell back onto the chair he had gotten up from.

"I told her the truth." He responded. Edgar watched empathetically in the background. Locke's eyes were fastened on Clyde, almost with a sick fascination, and Celes sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap. Setzer looked tired. Sabin sat quietly with his brother. Terra was not there, having led the sobbing Relm away soothingly while casting dark glances at Clyde and Strago.

"You don't have any right to tell her anything, you cold—sick—bastard!"

"I am her father."

"I am her 'grandfather'." Strago sneered. "And I have much more claim to that title than you to yours!" He regarded him coldly. "Relm—that girl has become my granddaughter. But you are no longer—and I say you never were—her father." Clyde flinched again. Celes twisted with her hands in agony, fingering the wedding ring from Locke that she had not removed from her hand.

"Siglia would have never left her like that… hidden the truth… Siglia never deserved you, and neither did Relm!" The old man stood defiantly before him. Clyde's mouth curved upwards painfully.

"Don't bring Siglia into it."

"God, don't you ever hurt Relm like that again." Strago whispered. "That girl is like a daughter to me…"

"Look," Clyde said, weakening at last, "I'm sorry. There was nothing I could say to her to… help anything. All I did was tell her the truth. And I know it's a damn hard truth to accept." He looked exhausted. "I should have never told her anything. But—"

"But what?"

"But Siglia would have wanted her to know." He said softly.

***

"I hate him." The seething calm in her voice frightened Terra. She would never accept him as her father as it was now.

"Relm," Terra said hopelessly. "I know you're angry. I know you dislike—hate him. But… you don't understand!" She took a lock of Relm's pale brown hair and pushed it behind her ear. "He's… he's so weak an insecure, some problems with Locke… and other things drove him to do what he did… to forget all morals and virtue and responsibility…" she ran her fingers through her own wavy green hair, like a comb. "He's… he is sorry for what he's done but he can't fix it now. He can only try to… make it up to you, and all of us." She sighed.

"I've—we've all been tolerating him far too long!" The twelve-year-old snarled. "He's killed his emotions, remember?" Terra's hair fell at the sides of her face. He's claimed he'd killed his emotions… but…

"No… I don't think he has. He only wants to pretend he has, so he can protect himself. But he hasn't really. You just have to… dig there. Please, Relm." The older woman sat beside the young artist. "He's not that bad. Just… give him a chance."

"Like everyone else gave him a chance." She muttered. "Grandpa, Locke, my mother Siglia… all of us!" Her voice rose. "Don't you see how… undependable he is? He's got nothing there. We might give him a chance, but we'll have to give him infinite chances before he ever succeeds at… anything!"

"He has." Terra said quietly. "He told me not to kill my emotions, as he has. I may as well have done so after General Leo died. Everything seemed so… after he's said so much to me, and I wanted to learn so much… so much human things from him… and he died, and it was just all gone." She blew a strand of hair away from her face. "If I'd killed my emotions, I wouldn't have been here… I would have died like all the other espers, the human part of me too weak to hold onto this world…"

"I don't want to trust him…"

"Relm… just a chance. Please? He's your father. He's got nothing left but you. Interceptor's dead. He has no family, no friends, except for you, and maybe some of us are still his… 'friends'."

"I…" Relm closed her eyes and opened them in weariness, tired of arguing, of fighting. She was not antagonistic. "I'll wait for him to make the first move. But I won't reject him with such hostility. I'll do my best."

"Thank you, Relm." Terra found the girl's hand, and as she squeezed it, she fingered the memento ring on Relm's index finger.