PeRFecT
Story © Briar Eve K. Sheurman, 2003
Chapter 26
"Lieutenant Trepe. Hey- You alright?"
Quistis glanced up from her rummaging to meet her Headmaster's concerned gaze. She blinked.
". . .perfect."
She returned to her pack-loading post at the zeppelin. By means of her peripheral vision, she saw Martine scratch his head and frown.
"You sure?" He pressed. "I mean, you're quite flushed - look at your hands. They're shaking. . ."
"I'm fine, Martine. Just a little wind-burnt. Now. . .I'd like to finish up organizing the packs- honestly, whoever ordered Seifer to pack the airship is going to have to answer to me. . ."
". . . Sorry 'bout that." Martine muttered stiffly, helping her maneuver the last of their ammo into the relatively small hold. Quistis rolled her eyes.
'It would be him too. . .'
"So. . ."He lingered on the syllable as he slammed the portal door firmly. "You're sure you're alright. . ." Martine's train of thought cruised away with his attention. Quistis was thankful for the distraction, until she realized what it was.
Trudging through the snow came Seifer and Irvine, followed by Headmaster Rand and Cadet Tilmitt. Seifer, in a slightly more humane frame of mind than he had been in the previous night, was begrudgingly helping the Galbadian cadet through the knee deep snow. She couldn't help but stare, feeling the numbness of the weather and situation creeping into her soul. Her cadet. . .
He looked like death itself.
His usually-tawny skin was sallow and bruised, highlighted with a sickly green overtone. He unconsciously flicked his tongue over and over again along his cracked and swollen lips. The thick lustrous tresses that had caressed her skin just hours before hung limply from his lowered head and his eyes. . .the eyes that burned her, scorched her, a million times over in the last month held no fire. There was nothing but numbness and frailty. And that numbness and frailty had overtaken his body as well- Seifer was practically carrying Irvine.
Quistis lowered her head to hide her shameful tears.
"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Martine hollered, throwing his arms in the air. Quistis winced.
'Martine never swears. . .'
"He's sick." Seifer stated bluntly, stopping in his tracks.
"Sick? What do you mean- he was fine yesterday. . ."
"And I'm fine today. . ."Irvine's voice cracked, belying his heroic façade.
"Fuck-whatever." Seifer growled. "Martine- he can barely stand up. He was vomiting all over the lavatory and you should'a heard him screaming last night. I thought he was fucking dying in there. . ."
"Yeah, or something." Hunter and Astrid came up to join the throng. The stalwart swordsman raised an eyebrow.
". . .just a nightmare. No big. . ." Irvine doubled over, collapsing in the snow. Martine shook his head, utterly astonished.
"You never get sick. . ."
"I'm not sick!" Irvine hollered, grimacing. "I. . .I'm just tired."
"Yeah. . and lying." Selphie piped up. Headmaster Rand put a hand on her shoulder and glanced at Cid.
"Martine. . .I hope you're not thinking of still bringing the boy. I don't care how good he is- he's incapable of walking. . ."
"Just mix together a high potion and a remedy for him to down and we'll go." Martine announced. Quistis stared at him, dumbfounded. Martine shrugged.
"We need him. I don't care how expensive it is and I don't care how sick he is. He has to learn this the hard way. He's a soldier. Shit like this happens. Almasy, get him doped up and loaded onto the zeppelin. He'll have an hour or so to recover before we reach the base of the mountain." Quistis noticed that Martine was talking remarkably loud. . .even for Martine. She met Seifer's belligerent gaze and watched as it slowly turned from annoyed to full-out hostile. He wasn't looking at her, but behind her. Raising her head, she glanced back.
The Galbadian Gala- the presidential airship-thrust from the ground into the air, leaving it's cargo trudging through the snow.
"What the fuck is he doing here?" Seifer sneered, instantly taking up a martial stance.
"Who are those people?" Selphie hissed a little too loudly. Her headmaster bit his lip.
"President Deling- Vinzer Deling. Am I right Martine?"
Martine nodded wordlessly and broke through the crowd to meet with the CEO of his allegiance. Bitterness and tension fell upon the group.
"Deling. . .Caraway. . .a couple of SeeDs. . .foot soldiers. . .what ARE they doing here?" Quistis mused aloud.
". . .realized the error of their ways and have come to offer their lives up so we can satisfy our need for justice." Everyone turned their gazes on Hunter as he unsheathed his gunblade. It sang with rage and impending massacre. "I'm going to scalp those ravenous gluttons like. . ."
"Shut up or they'll arrest you." Seifer growled, his eyes never leaving Deling's frame.
"No. .hey- look-" Irvine croaked, squirming on the ground. "He just turned his back on us. Quick, Seif- help me up. Let's pounce on. . ."
"Again- shut up cowboy." Seifer did help him to his feet, though Irvine's long legs wobbled awkwardly and the galbadian collapsed into his rival's arms. Seifer's eyes grew wide with anger and discomfort. Quistis couldn't stifle her giggle- they were just too cute. Seifer turned his angry gaze on her.
"Instructor. . ."
"Alright, alright, Almasy- Give him here- I realize that cuddling Irvine doesn't bode well for your souped up machismo-attitude. I'll make up that remedy/potion. .."
"'High' potion, instructor. . ."Irvine slurred. "I need to get high. ."
". . .concoction." She ignored him. "Everything's ready for departure, so go find the rest of our group and get yourselves aboard the zeppelin."
"What about. . ."Astrid thrust a nervous glance toward the beaurocratic assembly. Quistis sighed.
"Let Headmaster Martine deal with them. Watch yourselves, and please, for god sakes, don't stand here stewing over the tragedy. Go get yourselves ready."
The cadets saluted her half-heartedly and went about their duties. Seifer shoved Irvine into Quistis' more than capable arms and glared at him.
"He's in rough shape. It's a good thing you went to check on him this morning, or else, well. . .whatever." Seifer shrugged and strutted after Astrid and Hunter.
"No offense, but are you sure you can manage him on your own, Lieutenant-instructor Trepe?" Headmaster Rand questioned sincerely. "I mean- No one would want you to tire yourself before leaving for the expedition. . ."
With a manly grunt, Quistis put her arm around Irvine's waist and hoisted the majority of his weight onto her hip. She would've been the first to admit that it looked rather stupid, but it would've been worse had she thrown him over her shoulder. She nodded.
"I'll be fine, though. I'll just transport him into the zeppelin facilities. It would be great if someone could fetch me the drugs I need. . ."
"Oh! I can do that!" Selphie offered with a wide grin. Quistis wasn't even given a chance to protest- the girl was off in a whirlwind of purpose. Headmaster Rand offered his hand.
"Let me. . ."
"Headmaster Rand, please. . ."She started, casting a firm gaze on the Trabian. "I think it would be wise for you to join Martine and the beaurocrats as your position dictates. If you can find out what's going on, that would be a great assistance to us."
He fully understood her method and joined the flock. Quistis glanced down at her fading sun. She wordlessly carried him into the med-bay.
"Quisty?"
"Hmmm?" Quistis crushed the remedy pill into the high potion. He didn't answer, only stared. She began to murmur."Fire breath." She ended and boiled the vile concoction with her magic, hoping the heat from the flame would ease Irvine's pain as it emulsified the potion. Apparently it didn't, but it did leave him mesmerized and breathless. She stirred it quickly and surrounded the beaker with a clump of snow she'd snatched from the ground. Leaving it to cool, Quistis stretched out alongside the mattress and stroked Irvine's hair from his forehead. The thick film of perspiration that had beaded on his skin was now sticky and clammy and cool to the touch. He nuzzled into her hand and gazed up at her adoringly.
"Quisty." He murmured, dazed, reaching up to touch a loose gold tendril. She caught his hand and kissed it softly. Sooner than his eyes could crinkle in a smile, his brow furrowed and he leaned back against the clinical mattress, wheezing and groaning.
"Irvine. . .are you okay? Speak, please. . ." She asked anxiously, climbing to all fours. He cast a somnolent eye on her frowning face but replied with utmost seriousness and clarity.
"Quis. . .what's wrong with me? What's happenin'. . ." He groaned and clutched his stomach.
She froze.
"I. . .feel so strange. . ." All her words left her. "I. . .'m just so damned weak. It feels. . .like my insides are tearin' me apart. Like my organs just don't wanna work and my skeleton doesn't wanna support me anymore. It's like atrophy or somethin'. . .I feel like death."
'Oh Hyne, Irvine, I'm so sorry. . .so sorry. . .'
"I don't understand. . ."
'I. . .can't. no. . .I'm sorry again. I hate to see you like this but. . .'
"Well, you're sick. That's how some people feel when they're sick. I guess it's hard when you've never been sick before. . ."
"I've been sick before-when I first came to Galbadia. It was that Marlboro deathvirus. I almost died. I haven't been sick since then but. . .I'm surprised Martine didn't remember. I remember him freaking out about it. He wasn't very old and Garden was just getting built. . ." He sighed nostalgically. "But this. . .is even worse than that I think. . ."
"It's probably an exotic flu or something. Don't worry- I'm sure we'll all be joining you very quickly. . ."
'You're such a fucking liar, Trepe. You're disgusting. . .'
"God I hope not." Irvine muttered weakly. "No one deserves to feel like this. . .I've never felt like this. . .no wound has ever been this bad. . .and I've been shot at a lot." He chuckled then moaned. Quistis turned back to the medication, happy to remove herself from the ironic, guilt-inducing conversation. It had cooled considerably. She returned to him with it in hand.
"This is going to taste absolutely vile- I'm sorry."
"Hey hey- like it matters. I mean- it's not a curaga, but it's good stuff, eh?" Reaching his shuddering fingers toward the vial, he grasped it desperately and swallowed. She had to hand it to him- no rude noises, no exclamations, no contorted faces- he could take his medicine like a big boy.
"Wow."
"The worse it tastes the better it is for you. That's what Evana used to say. . .so, that stuff must be fuckin' god sent."
"Aren't you clever?" She teased caressing his cheek and nose. But the mirth died suddenly.
" Quisty. . .I'm sorry."
She blinked.
"Irvine-for what? You have nothing to be. . ."
"I. ..I don't know." He bit his lip. "I. . .I'm sorry about last night. I think. . .I don't know." He cocked his head as a wave of bewilderment washed over his features
'Last night. . .what does he remember and what doesn't he. . .'
"Irvine. . .last night was beautiful. I. . .can't believe you're apologizing for it." She wasn't exactly lying-most of it had been beautiful. . .
"Oh, it was. .. but. . .I'm sorry for fallin' asleep." He grinned sheepishly. In fact, he blushed. "I. . .don't usually do that. Maybe I was getting sick-or must've been real tired- but I'm sorry for falling asleep so quickly. Or collapsin'. . .I don't know. I. .. can't really remember, it's sort of hazy. . ."
"That's probably the medicine kicking in." She added, though she knew it was probably only a partial reason. "You'll fall asleep soon. But. . ." She kissed him chastely on the lips. Her magic sang in her head and ripped through her blood. The blue sorceress tried to suppress her new-found strength. "Last night was beautiful- thank you. I anxiously await our next romp. . ."She giggled at her choice of words. He smiled at her giggle as he began to doze off. Taking one last look at his peaceful face, Quistis left to finish the take-off preparations.
He wasn't sick.
She was.
She was disgusting- vile, perverse, loathsome. . .
Sick. . .and a liar.
And the situation was even worse. . .because she felt amazing.
Even as she sat in the hangar with her compatriots- save Martine who was preparing to pilot the ship- 'her' magic stoked her cells. Headmaster Rand had been concerned with her lifting the heavy cadet, yet, with her new strength she could've slung both Irvine and Seifer over her shoulders and still been mobile enough to play a game of basketball with the senior classmen.
Yes. . .she'd fed off him. Her cadet. She'd sucked Irvine dry of his power.
And her body was praising her for it.
What had the disembodied voice dubbed it?
'Black widow antics. . .' That was it. She'd fucked and fed off her mate simultaneously.
Her loss of control during the episode was hardly a comforting thought. It had been her intense emotional response to Irvine's words, then ministrations, that had led to her loss of control. In a sick and sordid way, the guilt could be traced back to him for seducing her so thoroughly.
But it was her fault. She'd almost killed him.
And what did she have to show for it?
Power. . .
. . . .his power.
Quistis checked her body and reveled in the intensity of the new magic. This had been inside Irvine's body. This glorious warmth that had witchdoctors and sorceress cults aiming for their scalpels and machine guns. The new magic coursed through her veins, intermingling with the dark power she'd stolen from Vigil. She finally understood what he was and what flowed in her veins.
Power over time. The power to change time. The power to make all time into one. To kompress it. . .
'kompress?'The accent was strange. Where had she heard it spoken in that particular way?
It didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was a goddess.
No. . .all that mattered was Irvine. . .dying in the other room because of her gluttony.
Dying she could remedy. . .she owned time.
She was immortal. . .
"Quistis?"
"Astrid?" The elfin girl's reedy voice reached her and yanked her from the confines of her micro-cosmos.
"What do you think about Deling sending his special forces along with us? They're so cocky-they hate us. I'm afraid they'll be mutinous with you. . .."
". . .Don't worry. He has his reasons, I'm sure. As for the soldiers. . nothing we can't handle."
And she was right.
If they interfered with her, she'd kill them-butcher them, torture them, rape them of breath and justice and life- and have no qualms about it.
After a surprisingly smooth take off, Quistis leaned her head against the wall and feigned sleep. In reality, she was furiously trying to rest her raging magic. It was a choir en masse of raging energy- a flourish of booming voices slurring up and down the grand staff that was her nervous system. Not one of Lukan's meditation exercises could conquer the major/minor beast.
In all truth, she should've been exhausted, since she hadn't slept in twenty four hours. But Irvine's glorious powers were more potent than a pot of coffee and a cold shower.
'Hyne, what a buzz. . .'
He collapsed in a state of mental shock, pinning her underneath his heavy musculature. She simply shoved him aside to revel in her new prowess. The blue sorceress took little notice of his weak pulse and shallow breath, for she was fixated on the surge of foreign memories that had been passed onto her from the dying cadet.
She watched images of war- people long dead from countries buried and forgotten. . .or perhaps pre-fetal. Images of new life and rebirth leaked through- the beauty of providence brought tears to her glazed eyes.
The power itself was beauty incarnate.
Hours she spent as a voyeur- pulling memory upon memory from her filled up brain so to digest the full scope of time's annals.
Of course. . .she consciously forgot the information quickly.
No matter how much power she had. .. she still didn't have Irvine's memory.
Quistis calmed considerably by dawn and went about her plan as though nothing had happened. She stole from Irvine's assigned room to her own. The bed sheets were untucked. Quistis turned the shower nozzle and washed herself thoroughly, suddenly aware of the unfamiliar sex smell emanating from her body.
Irvine. . .
After dressing and yanking a brush through her tousled tresses, Quistis eagerly flew to her lover's side, only to be stopped at the galbadian's door by a sleepy-eyed Seifer Almasy.
"Instructor. .. there's something going on with the cowboy. . he was screaming and he won't open the door and. . ."
"I'll see to it, Seifer. I'd really appreciate it if you would wake the other cadets and get yourselves prepared for the mission."
Irvine had only started to wake when she returned to him. Intoxicated by her magic and the sun caressed auburn hair, Quistis curled up in his arms and snoozed lightly.
She hadn't noticed the cool temperature of his skin. . .only the fact that she was able to touch it.
Quistis left him only moments later. . .unaware. . .and feeling guiltless.
"Instructor. . ."
"I'm a murderer. . ." She whispered.
"Instructor!"
'. . .huh?' She glanced up at Seifer. "What?" Her voice was testy.
"We're here." He answered simply, with a pensive frown.
The path was treacherous, but she thought nothing of it.
Quistis walked alongside Astrid and Hunter, chatting merrily. Since the previous night, her senses had become hyper acute, so she quickly diagnosed each new area as they came upon it. No one knew the wiser- it was Instructor-lieutenant Trepe. Perfection was expected.
The blonde instructor and her pair of cadets led the way followed by a substantial SeeD faction consisting of Dunkan, Westmut, a palmful of Trabians and a an army of Galbadians hand picked by Vinzer Deling himself. Quistis glanced back to catch Dunkan's glance. He rolled his narrow gray eyes and shook his head.
Good ole Vinzer Deling had wanted his group to be adequately prepared.
Good ole Vinzer Deling had insisted that they be accompanied by his most trustworthy SeeDs and special forces.
Good ole Vinzer was an arrogant, misinformed fop who had nothing better to do than intrude on Garden business.
But the President had been adamant, seemingly concerned about the soceritologists. They had broken into his home and stolen something precious from the confines of his vault. The President was obviously harboring a bitter vendetta.
Whatever it was, Deling wasn't taking any chances. He'd sent half his personal army.
Behind the horde of SeeDs strode Martine and Rand. The hearty north man was managing well on the rugged terrain, despite his middle age. However, Martine's actions were. . .rather clumsy. Every patch of ice he encountered sent him to the ground. Certain instances lead to rather substantial airtime. Something about that didn't sit well with Quistis- Certainly Martine wasn't the most graceful man on the planet, but he wasn't a klutz physically. Everyone knew that Martine had a martial background, as the man was proficient in heavy arms, swordsmanship and in hand to hand combat. But now. . .it was as if Martine had never seen ice before.
Seifer and Irvine brought up the rear. Thankfully, neither were like Martine- not even Irvine in his inebriated state. However, Seifer was forced to guide Irvine along with physical interaction. The SeeDs took the opportunity to tease the boys about their 'intimacy'. Quistis felt bad for allowing it, but at the same time, Irvine wasn't aware of it and Seifer deserved it.
Suddenly she stopped.
"Quistis, what's going.. .?" Astrid asked anxiously. The accompanying troop stopped in tableaux. Quistis raised her head and listened. Silence- only the far-off sound of a ravenous caw. She glanced around. Nothing. Closing her eyes, she followed the movement of the breeze. It was unhindered, save for the troupe's obstruction. Frowning, she sniffed lightly.
That was it. Her eyes widened in terror. Nothing could oppress the conditioned terror.
"Dragon." She hollered, her cry superimposed on a wailing roar. A red dragon seemingly materialized from behind the precipice, its ragged maw gnashing. Deadly spittle sprung from the gaping orifice and corroded everything on contact. It's crimson skin was beautiful in the early morning glow, but, somehow, the putrefying flesh lodged between its fangs overshadowed the romantic perception.
Weapons were drawn and growls emitted. But even with her power boiling and busting inside, Quistis was still reminded of the last time. . .when she was young and green and powerless. Three had come upon her. Alone. . .she had been utterly alone save for the dragon's rancid breath and throaty screeches.
Alone. . .save for her powers.
Save Diadem.
Just like the time with Tiamat.
"I fucking hate dragons." Quistis murmured, unsheathing her whip and readying a spell. She was frightened, but she could take care of this. . .
"Trepe." Dunkan grabbed her arm. She threw him a careless glare. "Trepe- take the cadets, Martine and a handful of SeeDs up into the caves. Let us deal with this. . ." He continued through her protestations. "No- don't worry about it. Me and Westmut have killed dozens of these fuckers, and, with all this ruckus, someone's bound to find us out. Take your squad and infiltrate the commune before they seal all the entries and send out a swarm of these guys. Go- you have to, you're the only one that knows the way."
"But. . .I can. . ."
"So can we. We're talented. . ." Dunkan grinned. "I was runner up for valedictorian, y'know? Damn Xu- But it doesn't mean that I can't be a damned dirty son of a bitch in a fight. So get going- we'll follow your trail when we finish with Mr. walking-stench."
Quistis didn't bother to argue with him- he was persuasive and stubborn. . .And a statutory rapist, but that was beside the point. Calling to her field group, she lead the way from the path to the unstable, rocky terrain.
"Get suited. . .keep walking, but get your gear on." She announced, fully functioning as a senior soldier. It didn't matter that her superior was shadowing her- he was not an official soldier, so, on the field, he was her underling.
The sounds of war diminished as they trudged through the wild, grappling at boulders and branches. Thankfully, the path wasn't especially treacherous.
She led them through the mountain terrain with her instincts leading her toward their goal. Somehow, she knew exactly where to go and exactly how to get there.
Her powers accompanied her like an operatic orchestra.
"Instructor. . .I hate to ask this, but can we stop for a damn minute?"
She whirled around to face her crew.
They were tired?
". . .pretty please?" Astrid squeaked , following up Seifer's demand. Seifer was still at the back struggling with lethargic Irvine. Quistis glanced to Martine, who seemed perfectly fine save the couple bruises he'd received from slipping on the ice. The galbadian SeeDs all seemed fine too. She had her answer.
"No- We're almost there." A groan burst from Seifer's mouth as he lost his hold on Irvine's form.
"Cadet Sargent- would you please take over Seifer's post as Irvine's babysit. . ."
"No- I'll help him." Martine interjected. He pulled Irvine from Seifer's fading grasp and hoisted him up. "With your permission of course, group leader." She nodded.
'That sounded so strange. . .never would've figured that Martine would ever address me as anything other than my name. . .not enough respect for protocol. . .'
"He also needs more medication. I suggest we spare an elixir. The soceritologists have snipers and we will probably need his expertise. . ." Martine added. Again, she nodded.
"Agreed. Headmaster Martine, would you please administer the treatment? Everyone- stay here for a moment. I want to scope out the surrounding area."
"I'll go with you." Hunter muttered gruffly.
Five minutes. That was all it took for Quistis and Hunter to find the entrance.
A high and narrow aperture in the mountainside, guarded by a towering oak door and four gray-clad personelle. Quistis would never forget that uniform. She now associated it with her own death.
"Shall I fetch the others?" Hunter murmured close to her ear. The bloodlust was audible. He was itching for a battle.
'He's such a gunbladesman. . .'
"Well. . .they'll all be dead by the time you get back. . ." She purred, teasing him lightly. He broke into a charming smile.
"Then shall we?" He drew his blade silently with one raised blond eyebrow. "I'll take the left side you take the right?"
"Sounds just about right. . ."She laughed at her own pathetic wordplay as they separated. The sorceress broke into a low run, flitting behind boulders and in shadows, working her way around the perimeter until she reached the guard station. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Hunter approaching, like a mirror image of herself.
The guards didn't have a prayer. The Sorceress and the Swordsman attacked simultaneously and ruthlessly. Even the second set didn't stand a chance, for they only realized that their comrades had been attacked as they themselves expired. All four slumped to the ground- stabbed, slashed and broken to a mass of bloodied flesh. After a little rummaging, Quistis produced a key. She wiped her hands in the snow and grass.
'So stained. . .'
"Degenerator." Quistis mumbled the final word of her readied spell and sent the evidence into oblivion.
". . .isn't that convenient?" Hunter chuckled. "Promise me now that, when I finally kill Almasy, you'll do the same for his rotting carcass. . ."
". . .there is very little that would please me more." She laughed. "Now. . .go get everyone else while I work on this lock. . ."
He ran off. . .but she didn't bother with the lock.
She wanted blood. She wanted carnage.
All she needed was her magic and her vengeance. And both were present and flourishing.
"Ray bomb"
She blew open the entrance and waltzed in.
(chapter continued. . .broken for file size issues)