"Happiness ain't never how you think it should be so." - Duncan Shiek

Chapter 1: Dismal Shores

Quistis fell backward and landed hard on the ground. Reverberations ran up her spine, humming in her teeth and playing painful chords on the muscles in her arms. She groaned. And her eyes flashed open in time to catch a glint of metal. Gasping, she ducked and rolled to the side, tumbling awkwardly right into a thicket of thorns. They snared her shirt, her hair, and one grazed her cheek. Crying out, she backpedaled out of the bush, every nerve in her body alive and aching.

Not surprisingly, she backed right into her opponent.

"Getting rusty, Quistis," Seifer said as he offered her a hand.

She scowled up at him, not appreciating the grin that was threatening to split his face. Seifer was a formidable opponent to train against, exactly what she had been looking for that morning. His aggressive, up close style made him especially difficult to attack with a whip, so training against him forced her to use her wits which were dulling due to years of inaction.

Ultimecia was but a vision of the past, or, rather, the future. It had been a strange journey through time compression, and for nearly a year afterward, the world had been at peace. All of the accolades she and the others had received for defeating the sorceress were now mounted to her like a yoke, chaining her to Garden and keeping her from where she really wanted to be: the field. That wasn't the case for Seifer. He'd been left behind that long ago morning when she'd been dispatched to Timber. Though, being excluded from their celebrated adventure had done nothing to quell his arrogance.

"I'm not rusty," she finally bit out, taking his proffered hand. He pulled her to her feet.

Curling her lip in disgust, more at herself than at him, she attempted to smooth out her appearance. Chunks of hair were hanging in front of her flushed face, pulled loose by the thorns. She took her clip out and forked a hand through her hair, taming it once again. Her clothing, on the other hand, was beyond salvaging. The ensemble was reserved exclusively for training, a pair of old, army green pants and a black tank top. She'd had it in her wardrobe for years and it had accumulated more than its fair share of dirt and blood.

"Three years ago, you would have seen that attack coming," Seifer said as he watched her dust off.

Quistis could only frown, knowing he was right. She'd begun to atrophy.

"It's the same with Squall and everyone else," he continued. "Fought against him a week ago. And the guy is getting really slow. Rinoa's turning him soft."

"So, you're the one who gave him that black eye?" she asked.

Seifer smirked. "Yep."

It had taken Quistis a long time to get used to seeing Rinoa and Squall in their happy life together, and even longer to fully remove the mark of love she'd branded into her heart for her once-upon-a-time student. She didn't know how Seifer felt about it. His arch rival had stolen his girlfriend out from underneath his nose, and she knew that had to hurt. So she supposed that there was something more to the way he was smiling at her, thinking about splitting his knuckles on Squall's skull, than just pride.

She sighed and rubbed her hands across her bottom. "That's going to ache for a day or two."

"You didn't fall that hard." He rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah." She rolled her eyes right back at him. "I know. Just let me wallow in my self-pity for a minute."

He shrugged and lifted his gunblade up to prop it across his shoulders behind his head. "Mope all you want. But, just for the record, that's the second time this morning I've beaten you."

"The second?" She arched an eyebrow.

He nodded. "Once just now, and once when you first walked in."

Quistis groaned. "That doesn't count. I wasn't even in the sparring area yet."

Using some of the new funding generated by the Ultimecia affair, Garden had expanded the training center. There were now separate areas, each containing different specimens of monsters from around the world. However, Cid had never been able to acquire any Estharan monsters. Rather than waste money and space, he'd turned the rocky, scrubland they'd created into a sparring arena. Quistis had still been outside that area, on her way in through the Balamb portion, when Seifer had attacked out of nowhere, catching her completely off guard.

"You walk in here," he said, shrugging, "and you're prey."

"You're an idiot," she replied.

She gathered her whip, wrapping it around her hand before hooking it back on her belt. Seifer watched her closely, probably attempting to gauge how his remarks had affected her — he always liked to admire his own handiwork. But the things he tended to say now weren't quite as hurtful as they'd once been. Some of his aggression had toned down with age. And Quistis had become more impervious to his verbal assaults.

"Want to get lunch?" she asked, looking up at him. They'd been training all morning, at an impasse until he'd gotten the upper hand, and her stomach was rumbling.

"Sure."

He sheathed Hyperion, the only sure sign to Quistis that their session was over. He was one of those rare people who genuinely loved his job. Being a mercenary was Seifer's life. SeeD had been the only life Quistis had ever known, but she didn't draw the same amount of pleasure from it that he seemed to.

In a companionable silence, they left the training center together and emerged out into the brightly lit Garden hallway. Students were milling about between classes. A tightly clustered group of girls paused to look at the tired, sweaty couple they presented. Seifer was still relatively popular among Garden's female population. But in this instance, he seemed unaware of their attention.

"You know what I think your problem is?" he said. "You're too cautious. You're so busy looking for the best hit that you miss the three okay ones that happen in between. And you forget that there are no rules to combat."

"Maybe. But there are rules to sparring," Quistis pointed out. "Besides, if we'd been using magic, I would have wiped the floor with you."

"You think so?" Seifer glanced at her. "Tomorrow then?"

"Tomorrow," she agreed. After being beaten by him — twice — she was itching to force a little humility into his demeanor.

Cid's voice interrupted them, booming from the ceiling over the Garden's intercom system. "Squall Leonheart, please report to the headmaster's office."


They both paused. The headmaster calling Squall usually meant that something was up, though usually it meant a diplomatic mission. Everyone on the planet knew who Squall Leonhart was, much to his own chagrin. But because he was still blanketly unsociable, Rinoa was almost always sent on non-violent missions with him. The simple fact that Cid hadn't paged Rinoa as well inclined Quistis to think that whatever was happening was something exciting…something she'd like a piece of.

"Damn." Seifer shook his head. "Wouldn't it be nice of a war broke out or something?"


"Might want to be careful what you wish for," Quistis advised. Seifer snarled but other than that offered no reply.

When they arrived together at the cafeteria, they received a number of curious glances from the spattering of students who were sitting around eating. Seifer and Quistis didn't spend much time together even though they were in overlapping social circles. Seifer spent almost all of his time with Fujin and Raijin, though he was occasionally seen with both Irvine and Squall, whereas Quistis spent the majority of her time with Selphie and Zell. They often found themselves standing in the same group of people, but they were rarely alone together.


The whisperers at the sight of them were heightened by the well-known fact that Quistis Trepe was a taken woman. She'd recently fallen into a relationship with a newly promoted instructor, Carson Brecht. He wasn't as handsome as men she'd dated in the past — just a little taller than her and mild mannered with light brown hair and pale blue eyes. But, as far as Quistis was concerned, he was a good complement to her straight-laced style. Plus, he adored her.

Seifer was completely oblivious to the stir their sudden companionship was creating and Quistis had to fight the urge to stop and explain to everyone exactly why she was with him. Really, he wasn't all that unpleasant to be around most of the time. Nevertheless, she didn't like the idea of rumors flying that there was something between them.

"Now I remember why I started eating out after becoming a SeeD," Seifer announced blandly as he looked over what food was remaining for lunch. There wasn't much left and with a displeased look he picked up a cold grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of soup. Quistis chose what she considered the lesser of two evils and went for the salad. Then they made their way to an empty table in the middle of the room that was sitting beside a large, fake fern. The faux plants were all over Garden and were supposed to make the school seem less sparse and homier, but most of the cadets abused the plants to the point where they looked more pathetic than comforting.

Quistis flicked open the clear plastic container holding her salad and was squeezing hefty amounts of dressing across the lettuce and vegetables when Seifer sent her a critical sneer.

"Don't you think that kind of defeats the whole purpose of getting a salad?" he asked.

"Not for me," she replied and speared some leafy greens with her fork.

His sneer broke into a small smile and he busied himself with his own lunch.

She was halfway finished with her salad when Cid's voice came on over the intercom again: "Rinoa Heartilly, please report to the headmaster's office."

"Diplomatic mission then," Seifer said and sighed. "They're probably off to lunch in Deling City with Rinoa's daddy or something."

"Probably," Qusitis agreed. In fact, it was likely the couple really would be headed off to visit Rinoa's father sometime soon. From what she heard, Squall was planning to propose. Although, any trip to Galbadia (always hostile territory in one sense or another) would require Squall to play diplomat at some point.

"I want a real, long term mission. Not another one of the two day things Cid always sends me on," Seifer said and dropped his half eaten sandwich back onto his plate.

Quistis couldn't have agreed more, but she didn't say so. After all, going on a mission would mean leaving Carson behind, and she knew that would stress him out. He didn't like Quistis taking dangerous missions. She appreciated that he cared about her well being, but at the same time, she sometimes felt like she'd gained an over-protective parent with him rather than a boyfriend.

"Something will come along eventually," she said and shrugged.

0 0 0

Edea Kramer gripped the phone, listening to line ring on the other end. When her husband's secretary didn't pick up, she stubbornly dialed his extension. She didn't want to leave a message; she wanted to talk to him directly. A large fishing boat, the Lucky Lady was docked near her lighthouse and all of the children were frightened. She wanted the situation dealt with.

"Hello?" Cid's weary voice finally came on the line.

"It's me," she said.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Yes. Of course something's wrong. I wouldn't interrupt you otherwise." She was being rude, but the events of the past hour had her on edge.

"What happened?"

He was concerned now. They had a strange marriage in that they saw one another so infrequently. Cid had his job in Garden, and she had her orphanage. Both loved what they did, and that fact alone kept them physically apart. But Cid was on the verge of retirement now. And Edea was looking forward to the day when she would finally be able to share life's more mundane moments with her husband again.

"A fishing ship came in this morning," she told him. "They were netting just off the coast. And sometime early this morning, they caught a body."

"A body?" Cid asked. "You mean, a human body?"

"Yes." Edea had seen it for herself and now doubted she'd ever scour the image from her mind.

"Has this person been dead very long?" he asked.

"I don't know." The body had been terribly bloated, almost unrecognizable. "I think something terrible happened to this person, Cid. He's been nearly ripped in half."

"Ripped in half?" Cid sounded weary again. "Edea…it's possible he died on a ship and the sharks got to his body after it was thrown overboard."

"Cid." She put cold steel into her voice. "This man hasn't been touched by the sharks. And no one throws dead people off the side of ships anymore."

He sighed on the other end of the line.

"You have to send someone down here," she insisted. "His body was found in Centran waters. Garden is the only institution that can claim any amount of authority down here. We've got to at least investigate this a little. People don't just wash up every day. We need to find out who he is and return him to his family."

"What do the sailors think?" Cid asked.

"What?" Edea was surprised by his question.

"The sailors," he repeated. "What do they think of the body?"

"They're spooked."

Every man on the Lucky Lady had gotten off the ship after dropping anchor. From what she'd been able to gather, they usually fished the warmer waters between Centra and Fisherman's Horizon but had traveled further south to explore the unknown bounty of the southern sea. They had a ship heavy with fish, so their trip had proven profitable if not lucky. But they were preparing to dump their entire cargo once the body was disposed of.

"They don't think it could have been sharks?" he asked persistently.

Edea groaned. "No. They don't." Sometimes it was impossible to get a point across to this man. He just didn't listen.

"All right," he said. "I'll send someone."'


"Thank you. Try to get them here as soon as possible. We have it on ice at the moment but…I want this thing away from my children."

"I sent Rinoa and Squall to Esthar already," Cid said, thinking aloud. "But Seifer might enjoy this sort of investigation. I'll send him along with Quistis to keep him out of trouble and an officer from forensics. Quistis and Seifer have both been bugging me lately for a mission."

"Just get them here soon," Edea said, repeating herself as she gazed out her window at the high sails of the Lucky Lady. Never before had she looked out to sea and felt such unease. All of the children were crowded inside, grasping the window panes and peering out at the sailors mulling about the beach.

She blinked, still trying to work the dead man's image from her mind. Try as she might, she couldn't remove the gruesome picture.

"I'll page them as soon as I hang up and get them on their way," Cid promised. "Talk to you later. Love you."

She hung up and turned around in time to see the Lucky Lady's captain walk into her kitchen.

"Are they coming?" he asked hopefully.

Edea nodded. "They're sending someone right now."

Involuntarily, she shuddered. Whatever fate the poor man had met, she dreaded that it might spread across the water to her home. This orphanage was supposed to be a safe haven in an uncertain world. Now it had been invaded by the terrible visage of death. Each wave that washed over the shore did so with a new, ominous roar.

A dark feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that this one dead man was just a dismal beginning to something much more insidious.