*pats self on back* I finished another part! Yay! Okay, it's a bit shorter, but I like to think it's more wham to the word, ne? And at least this way I'm sticking to my (somewhat) usual update schedule. I don't like dragging things out... I'm very impatient... so I'd rather keep it shorter and more frequent. ^^v
On a good note, this fic isn't going to be as long as ~Hourglass~. As a matter of fact, it'll be drawing to a close soon. I'm not exactly sure how many chapters, and I know any prediction I make is going to be wrong- just /because/- so I won't make one, but at the absolute latest- accounting for incredible writers' block, evil muses, really, really bad problems and a complete shutdown of Internet access for two weeks- this baby will be done before I leave for college on August 30th. I'm shooting more for mid-August, but we'll see. It all depends on the reviews... how's that for a timetable, hmm? :p
Last note: the action's going to start coming a bit more closely together. We're in the end times now.
Not mine!
----------------
_In Dreams_
----------------
//////////
There's colors all around me, dancing through my line of sight. I spin to follow them but they've gone, replaced by sparkling diamonds against inky blackness and if I didn't know better I would think it's the sky. But of course it's not. How could it be, when I stand on nothingness, and suddenly the diamonds are sakura petals and one by one they fall from heaven.
I can feel myself falling, and the world rumbles around me, conflicting and tearing until it shakes itself apart and the pieces are falling with me, and they're all the memories of every soul that's ever been born and lived and loved and dreamed and died, light and dark, and despite my angel's wings we fall right into hell.
Wasn't that a song? On the radio, at the orphanage, long ago:
/We watched them as we grew up and watched them as they fell.../
/Some of them fell into heaven, some of them fell into hell.../
Matron's singing it now, I push open the door and go in and help her set the table because that's my job, and I don't use the napkins as coloring paper like Selphie or throw the knives like Squall or Seifer, and Irvine's bringing the cups behind me and I steal a sip from mine because I'm thirsty and we've got grape juice today. Then I'm supposed to go get Zell and Selphie to come in and bring out the plates, and they're watching TV, so I go in there but neither of them seems to have noticed that it's not cartoons on but some boring adult show, the kind that Matron never lets us watch, and it's not even interesting at all, just a bunch of people running and loud noises and an awful lot of cranberry juice.
Voices, dimly in the background. "Quistis!"
Someone wants me? I start moving through the house in search of the voice.
"Quistis!" I run, hurrying towards the voice. I don't even notice when my feet take me outside, over the cliff face of the lighthouse. I can feel myself falling, and the world rumbles around me.
"Quistis!"
And then all the colors were gone.
My eyes open slowly, light stabbing through them to reveal the infirmary, Dr. Kadowaki's face hovering over me. I groan involuntarily, then wince at the pain the attempt at breathing deeply brings.
"How do you feel?"
"Like I just fought Ultimecia." Sitting up was a worthless effort; I'd just be pushed back down, and not gently. Dr. Kadowaki was an excellent physician, and she mothered everyone impartially when they were healthy and just needed to talk, but when it came to the injured she had a bedside manner like an angry Sorceress. Heh. Kurse all rekkless SeeD kadets... I laugh breathlessly, but it's not worth it, pain shooting immediately up my sides. Kadowaki glares pointedly at me and I subside.
"What happened?" I ask, grateful that talking doesn't produce much more than a dull ache, at least as long as I keep my voice low and breaths shallow. The one deep inhalation attempted earlier was still lighting nerves on fire.
"Accident in the training center," she said shortly. "Cadet Inglai failed to summon his GF while under attack. You overloaded." Overloaded: an understatement if ever I heard one. I couldn't remember exactly what I'd done, but for me to be feeling this way it had to be the magical equivalent of lifting a mountain without a warmup. "Is he okay?"
"Minor lacerations, GF rejection trauma," Kadowaki said briskly, bringing over a tray loaded down with instruments I'd seen elsewhere only in Esthar. The good doctor had been thrilled at the chance to get her hands on that technology, and Quistis had to admit that sometimes the mechanical cures worked better than magical ones. The problem, of course, was that magical cures attempted to fix everything, whereas instruments could be directed at specific points. It was like curing cancer: better to wipe out only the infected cells then to simply wipe out everything you could and hope you got all the bad cells before all the good cells died. Esthar reportedly was close to figuring out a way to do that, too. It would make chemotherapy obsolete.
"Hold still," Kadowaki instructed, doing a number of incomprehensible things. "Unfortunately, Inglai's lost his water junction."
"Shit." I closed my eyes. I'd only given him Siren, a low-level, normally friendly GF, ideal for cadets just learning to cast. What could have gone wrong?
Kadowaki senses my need for more information. "It's no one's fault," she told me. "Siren conflicted. Inglai had very strong memories of water, and he got confused. Instead of merely summoning Siren, he ejected her, burning out his junction in the process."
I sighed. An accident. Yes, they happened; thankfully rarely, but never pleasant. "Her status?"
"He's still in contention with his fire junction, and we /think/ we can encourage an affinity for earth. It was a blip when we tested him; with conditioning he may be able to use it more strongly. Regardless, he can make SeeD on one junction. He wouldn't be the first." I smile, thinking of my lone wind affinity.
"At any rate," Kadowaki begins rearranging her instruments, "he's already back to classes, so I need you to focus on- what's this?" She frowned, tapping the LCD readout mounted on the tray, then running another instrument over me. "Just a second," she said comfortingly. "I must have forgotten to recalibrate this one." She takes it to a cabinet and exchanges it for an identical machine. "I need you to focus on rebuilding your mental pathways," she continues, pressing buttons and running the new dial over me, "you've buried a few of your lower junction slots over this, and- that's /impossible/!" she exclaimed, junction slots forgotten as she stared first at the display, then me. "You're- that just can't be." She sets the instrument down resolutely, then begins running a hand down my abdomen, pressing at places. It doesn't hurt, but she frowns anyway. "I don't understand it," she mutters, "I just don't... SCAN!"
Cool blue light runs over me, comforting and soothing the aches, but I'm more worried than before. Dr. Kadowaki /never/ doesn't understand something, and she's stopped using scans since the more specific, more reliable medical technology came along. Scans were primarily intended for battle, and so it wasn't ideal for her work...
"Kuso!" The blue light melts away and I stare, wide-eyed. That's the first time I've ever heard her curse. Then she turns accusing eyes on me. "Quistis," she said firmly. "I need you to answer me."
I blink, confused. "Yeah, whatever you need to know, Doc," I acquiesce.
She fixes me with her piercing stare. "I was under the impression that you did not regularly practice sexual activity. You do know that under Garden policy, you are entitled to a regular dispensation of birth control pills as well as intermittent morning after pulls and anonymity about their reception-"
"Yes, I know!" Am I really blushing? I thought I broke that habit. "I know. And I've never needed them. Your, ah, impression, is correct."
"Really?" she pressed.
"Yes, really!"
She sighed. "Your physical state abets that, but..."
"But?"
"Your hormone levels are consistent with that of a woman six months pregnant."
I sit bolt upright, and it's a measure of the seriousness of the situation that Dr. Kadowaki doesn't immediately push me back down. As it is I nearly black out and have to clutch the headboard for balance. "That's impossible!" I protest. "Wouldn't it show?"
"Yes, it would," she agreed. "Your physical appearance is normal. There is the noticeable absence of a fetus. I also cannot detect any of the common symptoms- you haven't been having morning sickness, dizziness, nausea...?"
"No! And I haven't slept with anyone either..." I really haven't, it's not the sort of thing that could happen without me knowing it, and it's not like I leave my body for long jaunts at a time; dreaming is always instantaneous...
Suspicious begins to dawn on me.
Before I have time to think it though, though, I make a fatal mistake.
I blink.
//////////
I've had practice, by now, in remembering things quickly. It's always harder on this end, but establishing my surroundings is a SeeD-taught function. Curtains, blankets, pillows. Bed. Enclosed. Empty.
And immediately I commit to memory where I was before I blinked, the words, the location, the conversation. I have to pick it up right the second I get back, and not make a single slip. It's getting easier. Too easy, as I learn to live in two minds at once.
But Quistis is being put on a shelf somewhere in my head, next to Instructor and SeeD and Off-Duty all the other personas I don't need at the moment. Naltaeri. She's the one I need.
Actually, no, she's not the one I need. What day is it? How long have I been out? What's going on? Where is my husband?
Husband. I shiver and am reminded of the fact anew when I try to stand up. I stumble and nearly fall, my entire center of balance shifted backwards to compensate for my extra weight. I run a hand down my front, unbelieving as flatness blossoms out to a gently rounded curve. I suspected this, predicted this, but wasn't nearly prepared. I'm... pregnant. It's odd. Immediately, instinctively, the trained part of my mind begins reassessing modes of physical combat, adjusting for this new, unexpected weak point, rearranging plans, reflexes, even instincts to compensate. Automatically, directed by that part of my mind, I reach to shift my whip a few inches forward in adjustment for reach before they brush empty air and I remember I'm in a loosened dress instead of combat garb.
Walking is easier with practice as I move out into the hallways. It's after midday, the candle in my room assured me; but I didn't need to know that to know where Syran would be. The war room, of course. I know the way.
Unfortunately the designer of the castle didn't take into account that the king might need to reach the war room quickly, and it's a goodly distance from my chambers. For my usual self it wouldn't be a problem; Hyne knew I'd run back and forth to various quarters the last night I'd been here. I shoved that memory away angrily, along with thoughts of my own weakness, and persevered; but this new way of walking was unusual and tiring, and I was forced to stop and lean against the wall, catching my breath, one hand unconsciously going to rub my stomach in silent reassurance to the child within. It amazed me, and I stood there longer than necessary, eyes going out of focus as I reached inside of me. I'd never expected to be a mother, not in the lifestyle I'd chosen. I still wouldn't, of course, but there was something... special... about it. A liability, to be sure; a nuisance, undoubtedly, at times; but strangely empowering, strangely comforting. It focused me, centered my in a way I'd never known.
Unfortunately, I also noticed a desire to sit and be coddled, comforted, and protected. While that may have been appropriate at one point in mankind's history- along with the pheromones I was no doubt producing, to induce males to offer said protection- right now it was damned inconvenient. Especially if Syran started wanting to "protect" me from information.
I started moving again, but had barely achieved the hallway at the end of which was the war room when I heard Lykouleon's voice, loud and angry. Startled, for it was as unlike Lykouleon to raise his voice as Squall, I stopped dead and listened closely. "Damn it, Syran, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
Shock rippled through me. Syran and Lykouleon were close, closer than brothers, at times, and it was beyond out-of-character for Lykouleon to say something of that caliber to Syran.
"I need the reports for the Third Division," Syran's voice was saying tightly, "and-"
"Fuck your reports!" Lykouleon again. He /never/ cursed. "Don't you care about anything else? I was talking with the doctor yesterday, and he said you hadn't seen him in four months!"
"I have more important things to be doing," he snapped.
Unable to move, she retained enough sense of self to cast scan through the door, trusting to Syran's dormant abilities and Lykouleon's agitation- and her own higher competence level- to conceal the move. Syran was bent over the main desk, seemingly completely focused on the papers and diagrams laying there, but his darting eyes revealed that more of his attention than he would have admitted was focused on his pacing brother. "More important?" he repeated incredulously. "I am sick and tired of your bullshit, Syran. And you'd better know I'm not the only one. Naltaeri was unconscious for three days and all you cared about was your Hyne damned reports! Don't you care if she miscarries?"
She froze, motionless no longer by choice, the horrible word echoing throughout her head. That was why she'd been in her bed after midday? Was she in that bad of shape? She didn't feel like it, but... she focused inwards, scanning herself now. Problems became clear the deeper she dove. Quistis was not a physician, and she's never dealt with pregnancy before. What she /had/ dealt with was magical backlash. She supposed it made sense, if Naltaeri's pregnancy could backlash to Quistis' hormone levels, that Quistis' junction damage could feedback to Naltaeri's internal regulation. That, she could fix, and fix it she did, applying spells quickly and carefully, masking them from the outside world. It was not an instantaneous process, but it could continue independently now. She turned her attention outwards. The war room faded in, and she wondered if she'd even missed anything. Syran still ignored Lykouleon, who still paced. He raked a hand through his hair angrily. "Syran, you're not making any sense!"
"I don't think I need to be for you to do your job," the king said shortly, not looking up from his maps and diagrams. Dozens of candles lit the room as brightly as day, in this windowless room.
Lykouleon stared. "Syran," he changed his tone. "I'm your brother, and I care about you. And maybe I don't know Naltaeri as well or as long as you, but I used to play with her too, and I'm telling you now that all she really wants is to be loved. And what I don't understand-" his voice rose again "is why you can't just give her that, especially since you feel exactly the same way!"
"There's no time," Syran snapped. "I'm busy."
"Oh, fuck that," Lykouleon snapped back. "You've seen the troops. You've seen the positions. Maybe everyone else has forgotten you used to beat me at strategy half-asleep but if I can figure it out you can too. It's /over/, Syran. We're done. Call it a year, maybe two, and the Lihallan Empire isn't going to exist anymore. All this-" he waved a hand "all these maps and charts and sleepless nights aren't going to do a damn thing to change that. And you know it." Silence from the other man. "Look," Lykouleon said tiredly, "it's laudable of you to try to drag it out as long as possible. You're going to lose most of the army doing it but the more people you get out of cities, out of the advance path, even into other countries, well, I don't know a man in my command wouldn't be willing to die if it meant getting his wife and kids out. But- oh God, Syran, you /knew/ marrying her was a death sentence!" His voice dropped painfully. "I just want you to be happy in the time you have left."
Syran finally looked up at him, and from where Naltaeri stood in shock they looked haunted. Questions began to rise before her. Why hadn't she questioned Syran's motives? Once Lykouleon had said it, it seemed so clear. Syran had to sleep anyway. He had to eat. He couldn't spend every waking hour of every day on the war, could he? Why couldn't he spend any time at all with her? Why was he so eager to separate himself from her so completely?
What had Lykouleon meant by a death sentence?
She leaned forward and had to catch herself on the wall, dizzy from the change of position. Blackness tickles the ends of my vision and I scarcely have time to realize it's not... just... dizziness...
My eyelids betrayed me, closing.
//////////
"I've never seen this sort of result from a junction overload, but perhaps--"
"I have," I cut her off abruptly. "It was, ah, during the war." Of course I've never seen any such thing, but so many strange and unexplainable results of Time Compression and Sorceresses power abounded that it's my best chance for pulling this off. I shove anger and confusion down; cursing the whims of fate, bringing me back right then, could come later. "I mean, you know how it was," I continue, trying not to sound nervous, "We were getting bombarded with so much strange energy, we were taking junctions we'd never even heard of, casting spells no one's ever seen, new GFs, y'know, no one ever ran tests on any of those things... it was our lives, you understand, we didn't have time to research-" I'm still sitting up, I realize, and begin to swing my legs over the side, ignoring Kadowaki's abortive movements- "but we really put ourselves through it, half the time we were fighting with injuries severe enough to put a normal person into a coma--"
"I know your experiences were inhuman," the doctor acknowledged dubiously, "but I thought we'd flushed your system."
"We don't understand half the stuff we did to ourselves, doc, doubt anyone will for the next few centuries, there was so much magic going through, we were casting anything and everything and to hell with our affinities. We had just about every damn spell ever known knocking around in our heads and quite a few besides, that's bound to set off a few reactions to be dealt with." I'm vertical now. "Look, you said yourself there's no physical evidence, my hormone levels are just too high. It's a coincidence, okay? Probably something Alexander cooked up with his med level up stuff, we mixed up some pretty weird medical potions towards the end there and we were hyped on Curaga's 24-7. It's probably just a reaction to my injury, right? My body's not used to healing itself normally anymore, it's got to go to extremes."
Kadowaki looked skeptical as I gave her my most sincere look and balanced (albeit precariously) on my own two feet. "You may be right," she acknowledged. "Well, I don't know what the cause is anyway, so all I can do is treat the effects. This didn't show up on your physical last month, and you said yourself you haven't been feeling any ill effects... I'll just prescribe you some birth control pills. That should lower your hormone levels... two weeks' dosage, then, and we'll test you again..."
"Great," I said, grabbing the bottle. "I bet they'll go right down, doc. Thanks for everything. I'm going to go check in Inglia..."
"Wait just a second!" She sounds indignant. "I want to run a few more tests, and..." I'm already out the door.
I throw the pills out on my way back to my room and lock the door behind me, leaning heavily against it and breathing. There's nothing I can do on this end to help, and if Naltaeri's pregnancy is showing up in my body I don't want to risk taking those pills and hurting her baby. He or she is going to be a historical figure, and the ramifications of hurting or killing s/he are more than my aching head can deal with. In two weeks, either Naltaeri has delivered or not: that was pretty much going to determine my hormone levels.
I had more important fish to fry. Opening up my terminal, I start running searches for everything I can find on the Lihallan Empire. Lykouleon's words are still echoing through my head. Before, my idle flipping through history books had always had a languid air; I'd felt it hadn't really mattered and I didn't really want to know, anyway. But now things had changed. If things were really as bleak as the picture I'd been painted, I had to know. There was more at stake than idle curiosity, a perfectionist's desire to control the yet-to-come as well as the here-and-now. Now it was different. Knowing, or not knowing, could save far more important lives than mine.
Knowledge was the one currency whose value could be transported over lands and centuries.
I had so very little time in which to become rich.
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Hmmm, food for thought. What is going on in Syran's little mind? ^^ In time, all will be revealed... assuming, that is, that sufficient reviews are received. Ah, yes, time to bribe the author.
Speaking of which!
Tennyo Tears: Do I even have to say anything? *mucho hugs* love you much! Guess there's no preview screening on this one but I was too busy writing to even go online. I guess my muses really are back on the bandwagon- and I know who I have to thanks. *bows* arigatou gozaimasu!
Yuki: *ponders* it's not entirely accurate to say that /Seifer's/ having the dreams, as you'll find out. Can't say more yet ^_- but you'll find out in those updates you demanded... :)
CelesteSpring: *impressed* I have a trademark? Awesome! Quality pressure, here I come... heh, heh. It's really flattering to have someone /expect/ excellence. Makes me feel more like I have it in me.
Quistis88: Don't feel bad, that's my job! How about we both just feel good? I'm writing, you're reading, all is right for the world. Thanks for sticking around over my loooong hiatus- you're one of the only one of my former reviewers who did!
Pierson: Mwhahaha- a new inductee. ) No, just kidding! I'm glad you think there's something original in what I'm doing. That was my goal. Ne, while you're here, go read ~Hourglass~. Shameless plug, I know, but hey, an author can dream. (no pun intended!) At least stick around here! ^^v
Starwhisperer: wow... I... wow. What can I say to that? *cheers* Thanks! Don't give up hope- I absolutely hate leaving something unfinished *ducks at the thought of her year-long hiatus from DoC...* Yes, this is a Seiftis, though I don't mind admitting I've branched out in pairings more since I started writing this. As for Seifer and the real world... like I told Yuki, well, you'll see. You may have the wrong impression, though. Heh, heh.
^^v well, looks like that's it for this one! That's a wrap- see you soon!
(assuming, that is, you click the blue button.)
Raging Ego: "FEED ME!!!"
On a good note, this fic isn't going to be as long as ~Hourglass~. As a matter of fact, it'll be drawing to a close soon. I'm not exactly sure how many chapters, and I know any prediction I make is going to be wrong- just /because/- so I won't make one, but at the absolute latest- accounting for incredible writers' block, evil muses, really, really bad problems and a complete shutdown of Internet access for two weeks- this baby will be done before I leave for college on August 30th. I'm shooting more for mid-August, but we'll see. It all depends on the reviews... how's that for a timetable, hmm? :p
Last note: the action's going to start coming a bit more closely together. We're in the end times now.
Not mine!
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_In Dreams_
----------------
//////////
There's colors all around me, dancing through my line of sight. I spin to follow them but they've gone, replaced by sparkling diamonds against inky blackness and if I didn't know better I would think it's the sky. But of course it's not. How could it be, when I stand on nothingness, and suddenly the diamonds are sakura petals and one by one they fall from heaven.
I can feel myself falling, and the world rumbles around me, conflicting and tearing until it shakes itself apart and the pieces are falling with me, and they're all the memories of every soul that's ever been born and lived and loved and dreamed and died, light and dark, and despite my angel's wings we fall right into hell.
Wasn't that a song? On the radio, at the orphanage, long ago:
/We watched them as we grew up and watched them as they fell.../
/Some of them fell into heaven, some of them fell into hell.../
Matron's singing it now, I push open the door and go in and help her set the table because that's my job, and I don't use the napkins as coloring paper like Selphie or throw the knives like Squall or Seifer, and Irvine's bringing the cups behind me and I steal a sip from mine because I'm thirsty and we've got grape juice today. Then I'm supposed to go get Zell and Selphie to come in and bring out the plates, and they're watching TV, so I go in there but neither of them seems to have noticed that it's not cartoons on but some boring adult show, the kind that Matron never lets us watch, and it's not even interesting at all, just a bunch of people running and loud noises and an awful lot of cranberry juice.
Voices, dimly in the background. "Quistis!"
Someone wants me? I start moving through the house in search of the voice.
"Quistis!" I run, hurrying towards the voice. I don't even notice when my feet take me outside, over the cliff face of the lighthouse. I can feel myself falling, and the world rumbles around me.
"Quistis!"
And then all the colors were gone.
My eyes open slowly, light stabbing through them to reveal the infirmary, Dr. Kadowaki's face hovering over me. I groan involuntarily, then wince at the pain the attempt at breathing deeply brings.
"How do you feel?"
"Like I just fought Ultimecia." Sitting up was a worthless effort; I'd just be pushed back down, and not gently. Dr. Kadowaki was an excellent physician, and she mothered everyone impartially when they were healthy and just needed to talk, but when it came to the injured she had a bedside manner like an angry Sorceress. Heh. Kurse all rekkless SeeD kadets... I laugh breathlessly, but it's not worth it, pain shooting immediately up my sides. Kadowaki glares pointedly at me and I subside.
"What happened?" I ask, grateful that talking doesn't produce much more than a dull ache, at least as long as I keep my voice low and breaths shallow. The one deep inhalation attempted earlier was still lighting nerves on fire.
"Accident in the training center," she said shortly. "Cadet Inglai failed to summon his GF while under attack. You overloaded." Overloaded: an understatement if ever I heard one. I couldn't remember exactly what I'd done, but for me to be feeling this way it had to be the magical equivalent of lifting a mountain without a warmup. "Is he okay?"
"Minor lacerations, GF rejection trauma," Kadowaki said briskly, bringing over a tray loaded down with instruments I'd seen elsewhere only in Esthar. The good doctor had been thrilled at the chance to get her hands on that technology, and Quistis had to admit that sometimes the mechanical cures worked better than magical ones. The problem, of course, was that magical cures attempted to fix everything, whereas instruments could be directed at specific points. It was like curing cancer: better to wipe out only the infected cells then to simply wipe out everything you could and hope you got all the bad cells before all the good cells died. Esthar reportedly was close to figuring out a way to do that, too. It would make chemotherapy obsolete.
"Hold still," Kadowaki instructed, doing a number of incomprehensible things. "Unfortunately, Inglai's lost his water junction."
"Shit." I closed my eyes. I'd only given him Siren, a low-level, normally friendly GF, ideal for cadets just learning to cast. What could have gone wrong?
Kadowaki senses my need for more information. "It's no one's fault," she told me. "Siren conflicted. Inglai had very strong memories of water, and he got confused. Instead of merely summoning Siren, he ejected her, burning out his junction in the process."
I sighed. An accident. Yes, they happened; thankfully rarely, but never pleasant. "Her status?"
"He's still in contention with his fire junction, and we /think/ we can encourage an affinity for earth. It was a blip when we tested him; with conditioning he may be able to use it more strongly. Regardless, he can make SeeD on one junction. He wouldn't be the first." I smile, thinking of my lone wind affinity.
"At any rate," Kadowaki begins rearranging her instruments, "he's already back to classes, so I need you to focus on- what's this?" She frowned, tapping the LCD readout mounted on the tray, then running another instrument over me. "Just a second," she said comfortingly. "I must have forgotten to recalibrate this one." She takes it to a cabinet and exchanges it for an identical machine. "I need you to focus on rebuilding your mental pathways," she continues, pressing buttons and running the new dial over me, "you've buried a few of your lower junction slots over this, and- that's /impossible/!" she exclaimed, junction slots forgotten as she stared first at the display, then me. "You're- that just can't be." She sets the instrument down resolutely, then begins running a hand down my abdomen, pressing at places. It doesn't hurt, but she frowns anyway. "I don't understand it," she mutters, "I just don't... SCAN!"
Cool blue light runs over me, comforting and soothing the aches, but I'm more worried than before. Dr. Kadowaki /never/ doesn't understand something, and she's stopped using scans since the more specific, more reliable medical technology came along. Scans were primarily intended for battle, and so it wasn't ideal for her work...
"Kuso!" The blue light melts away and I stare, wide-eyed. That's the first time I've ever heard her curse. Then she turns accusing eyes on me. "Quistis," she said firmly. "I need you to answer me."
I blink, confused. "Yeah, whatever you need to know, Doc," I acquiesce.
She fixes me with her piercing stare. "I was under the impression that you did not regularly practice sexual activity. You do know that under Garden policy, you are entitled to a regular dispensation of birth control pills as well as intermittent morning after pulls and anonymity about their reception-"
"Yes, I know!" Am I really blushing? I thought I broke that habit. "I know. And I've never needed them. Your, ah, impression, is correct."
"Really?" she pressed.
"Yes, really!"
She sighed. "Your physical state abets that, but..."
"But?"
"Your hormone levels are consistent with that of a woman six months pregnant."
I sit bolt upright, and it's a measure of the seriousness of the situation that Dr. Kadowaki doesn't immediately push me back down. As it is I nearly black out and have to clutch the headboard for balance. "That's impossible!" I protest. "Wouldn't it show?"
"Yes, it would," she agreed. "Your physical appearance is normal. There is the noticeable absence of a fetus. I also cannot detect any of the common symptoms- you haven't been having morning sickness, dizziness, nausea...?"
"No! And I haven't slept with anyone either..." I really haven't, it's not the sort of thing that could happen without me knowing it, and it's not like I leave my body for long jaunts at a time; dreaming is always instantaneous...
Suspicious begins to dawn on me.
Before I have time to think it though, though, I make a fatal mistake.
I blink.
//////////
I've had practice, by now, in remembering things quickly. It's always harder on this end, but establishing my surroundings is a SeeD-taught function. Curtains, blankets, pillows. Bed. Enclosed. Empty.
And immediately I commit to memory where I was before I blinked, the words, the location, the conversation. I have to pick it up right the second I get back, and not make a single slip. It's getting easier. Too easy, as I learn to live in two minds at once.
But Quistis is being put on a shelf somewhere in my head, next to Instructor and SeeD and Off-Duty all the other personas I don't need at the moment. Naltaeri. She's the one I need.
Actually, no, she's not the one I need. What day is it? How long have I been out? What's going on? Where is my husband?
Husband. I shiver and am reminded of the fact anew when I try to stand up. I stumble and nearly fall, my entire center of balance shifted backwards to compensate for my extra weight. I run a hand down my front, unbelieving as flatness blossoms out to a gently rounded curve. I suspected this, predicted this, but wasn't nearly prepared. I'm... pregnant. It's odd. Immediately, instinctively, the trained part of my mind begins reassessing modes of physical combat, adjusting for this new, unexpected weak point, rearranging plans, reflexes, even instincts to compensate. Automatically, directed by that part of my mind, I reach to shift my whip a few inches forward in adjustment for reach before they brush empty air and I remember I'm in a loosened dress instead of combat garb.
Walking is easier with practice as I move out into the hallways. It's after midday, the candle in my room assured me; but I didn't need to know that to know where Syran would be. The war room, of course. I know the way.
Unfortunately the designer of the castle didn't take into account that the king might need to reach the war room quickly, and it's a goodly distance from my chambers. For my usual self it wouldn't be a problem; Hyne knew I'd run back and forth to various quarters the last night I'd been here. I shoved that memory away angrily, along with thoughts of my own weakness, and persevered; but this new way of walking was unusual and tiring, and I was forced to stop and lean against the wall, catching my breath, one hand unconsciously going to rub my stomach in silent reassurance to the child within. It amazed me, and I stood there longer than necessary, eyes going out of focus as I reached inside of me. I'd never expected to be a mother, not in the lifestyle I'd chosen. I still wouldn't, of course, but there was something... special... about it. A liability, to be sure; a nuisance, undoubtedly, at times; but strangely empowering, strangely comforting. It focused me, centered my in a way I'd never known.
Unfortunately, I also noticed a desire to sit and be coddled, comforted, and protected. While that may have been appropriate at one point in mankind's history- along with the pheromones I was no doubt producing, to induce males to offer said protection- right now it was damned inconvenient. Especially if Syran started wanting to "protect" me from information.
I started moving again, but had barely achieved the hallway at the end of which was the war room when I heard Lykouleon's voice, loud and angry. Startled, for it was as unlike Lykouleon to raise his voice as Squall, I stopped dead and listened closely. "Damn it, Syran, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
Shock rippled through me. Syran and Lykouleon were close, closer than brothers, at times, and it was beyond out-of-character for Lykouleon to say something of that caliber to Syran.
"I need the reports for the Third Division," Syran's voice was saying tightly, "and-"
"Fuck your reports!" Lykouleon again. He /never/ cursed. "Don't you care about anything else? I was talking with the doctor yesterday, and he said you hadn't seen him in four months!"
"I have more important things to be doing," he snapped.
Unable to move, she retained enough sense of self to cast scan through the door, trusting to Syran's dormant abilities and Lykouleon's agitation- and her own higher competence level- to conceal the move. Syran was bent over the main desk, seemingly completely focused on the papers and diagrams laying there, but his darting eyes revealed that more of his attention than he would have admitted was focused on his pacing brother. "More important?" he repeated incredulously. "I am sick and tired of your bullshit, Syran. And you'd better know I'm not the only one. Naltaeri was unconscious for three days and all you cared about was your Hyne damned reports! Don't you care if she miscarries?"
She froze, motionless no longer by choice, the horrible word echoing throughout her head. That was why she'd been in her bed after midday? Was she in that bad of shape? She didn't feel like it, but... she focused inwards, scanning herself now. Problems became clear the deeper she dove. Quistis was not a physician, and she's never dealt with pregnancy before. What she /had/ dealt with was magical backlash. She supposed it made sense, if Naltaeri's pregnancy could backlash to Quistis' hormone levels, that Quistis' junction damage could feedback to Naltaeri's internal regulation. That, she could fix, and fix it she did, applying spells quickly and carefully, masking them from the outside world. It was not an instantaneous process, but it could continue independently now. She turned her attention outwards. The war room faded in, and she wondered if she'd even missed anything. Syran still ignored Lykouleon, who still paced. He raked a hand through his hair angrily. "Syran, you're not making any sense!"
"I don't think I need to be for you to do your job," the king said shortly, not looking up from his maps and diagrams. Dozens of candles lit the room as brightly as day, in this windowless room.
Lykouleon stared. "Syran," he changed his tone. "I'm your brother, and I care about you. And maybe I don't know Naltaeri as well or as long as you, but I used to play with her too, and I'm telling you now that all she really wants is to be loved. And what I don't understand-" his voice rose again "is why you can't just give her that, especially since you feel exactly the same way!"
"There's no time," Syran snapped. "I'm busy."
"Oh, fuck that," Lykouleon snapped back. "You've seen the troops. You've seen the positions. Maybe everyone else has forgotten you used to beat me at strategy half-asleep but if I can figure it out you can too. It's /over/, Syran. We're done. Call it a year, maybe two, and the Lihallan Empire isn't going to exist anymore. All this-" he waved a hand "all these maps and charts and sleepless nights aren't going to do a damn thing to change that. And you know it." Silence from the other man. "Look," Lykouleon said tiredly, "it's laudable of you to try to drag it out as long as possible. You're going to lose most of the army doing it but the more people you get out of cities, out of the advance path, even into other countries, well, I don't know a man in my command wouldn't be willing to die if it meant getting his wife and kids out. But- oh God, Syran, you /knew/ marrying her was a death sentence!" His voice dropped painfully. "I just want you to be happy in the time you have left."
Syran finally looked up at him, and from where Naltaeri stood in shock they looked haunted. Questions began to rise before her. Why hadn't she questioned Syran's motives? Once Lykouleon had said it, it seemed so clear. Syran had to sleep anyway. He had to eat. He couldn't spend every waking hour of every day on the war, could he? Why couldn't he spend any time at all with her? Why was he so eager to separate himself from her so completely?
What had Lykouleon meant by a death sentence?
She leaned forward and had to catch herself on the wall, dizzy from the change of position. Blackness tickles the ends of my vision and I scarcely have time to realize it's not... just... dizziness...
My eyelids betrayed me, closing.
//////////
"I've never seen this sort of result from a junction overload, but perhaps--"
"I have," I cut her off abruptly. "It was, ah, during the war." Of course I've never seen any such thing, but so many strange and unexplainable results of Time Compression and Sorceresses power abounded that it's my best chance for pulling this off. I shove anger and confusion down; cursing the whims of fate, bringing me back right then, could come later. "I mean, you know how it was," I continue, trying not to sound nervous, "We were getting bombarded with so much strange energy, we were taking junctions we'd never even heard of, casting spells no one's ever seen, new GFs, y'know, no one ever ran tests on any of those things... it was our lives, you understand, we didn't have time to research-" I'm still sitting up, I realize, and begin to swing my legs over the side, ignoring Kadowaki's abortive movements- "but we really put ourselves through it, half the time we were fighting with injuries severe enough to put a normal person into a coma--"
"I know your experiences were inhuman," the doctor acknowledged dubiously, "but I thought we'd flushed your system."
"We don't understand half the stuff we did to ourselves, doc, doubt anyone will for the next few centuries, there was so much magic going through, we were casting anything and everything and to hell with our affinities. We had just about every damn spell ever known knocking around in our heads and quite a few besides, that's bound to set off a few reactions to be dealt with." I'm vertical now. "Look, you said yourself there's no physical evidence, my hormone levels are just too high. It's a coincidence, okay? Probably something Alexander cooked up with his med level up stuff, we mixed up some pretty weird medical potions towards the end there and we were hyped on Curaga's 24-7. It's probably just a reaction to my injury, right? My body's not used to healing itself normally anymore, it's got to go to extremes."
Kadowaki looked skeptical as I gave her my most sincere look and balanced (albeit precariously) on my own two feet. "You may be right," she acknowledged. "Well, I don't know what the cause is anyway, so all I can do is treat the effects. This didn't show up on your physical last month, and you said yourself you haven't been feeling any ill effects... I'll just prescribe you some birth control pills. That should lower your hormone levels... two weeks' dosage, then, and we'll test you again..."
"Great," I said, grabbing the bottle. "I bet they'll go right down, doc. Thanks for everything. I'm going to go check in Inglia..."
"Wait just a second!" She sounds indignant. "I want to run a few more tests, and..." I'm already out the door.
I throw the pills out on my way back to my room and lock the door behind me, leaning heavily against it and breathing. There's nothing I can do on this end to help, and if Naltaeri's pregnancy is showing up in my body I don't want to risk taking those pills and hurting her baby. He or she is going to be a historical figure, and the ramifications of hurting or killing s/he are more than my aching head can deal with. In two weeks, either Naltaeri has delivered or not: that was pretty much going to determine my hormone levels.
I had more important fish to fry. Opening up my terminal, I start running searches for everything I can find on the Lihallan Empire. Lykouleon's words are still echoing through my head. Before, my idle flipping through history books had always had a languid air; I'd felt it hadn't really mattered and I didn't really want to know, anyway. But now things had changed. If things were really as bleak as the picture I'd been painted, I had to know. There was more at stake than idle curiosity, a perfectionist's desire to control the yet-to-come as well as the here-and-now. Now it was different. Knowing, or not knowing, could save far more important lives than mine.
Knowledge was the one currency whose value could be transported over lands and centuries.
I had so very little time in which to become rich.
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Hmmm, food for thought. What is going on in Syran's little mind? ^^ In time, all will be revealed... assuming, that is, that sufficient reviews are received. Ah, yes, time to bribe the author.
Speaking of which!
Tennyo Tears: Do I even have to say anything? *mucho hugs* love you much! Guess there's no preview screening on this one but I was too busy writing to even go online. I guess my muses really are back on the bandwagon- and I know who I have to thanks. *bows* arigatou gozaimasu!
Yuki: *ponders* it's not entirely accurate to say that /Seifer's/ having the dreams, as you'll find out. Can't say more yet ^_- but you'll find out in those updates you demanded... :)
CelesteSpring: *impressed* I have a trademark? Awesome! Quality pressure, here I come... heh, heh. It's really flattering to have someone /expect/ excellence. Makes me feel more like I have it in me.
Quistis88: Don't feel bad, that's my job! How about we both just feel good? I'm writing, you're reading, all is right for the world. Thanks for sticking around over my loooong hiatus- you're one of the only one of my former reviewers who did!
Pierson: Mwhahaha- a new inductee. ) No, just kidding! I'm glad you think there's something original in what I'm doing. That was my goal. Ne, while you're here, go read ~Hourglass~. Shameless plug, I know, but hey, an author can dream. (no pun intended!) At least stick around here! ^^v
Starwhisperer: wow... I... wow. What can I say to that? *cheers* Thanks! Don't give up hope- I absolutely hate leaving something unfinished *ducks at the thought of her year-long hiatus from DoC...* Yes, this is a Seiftis, though I don't mind admitting I've branched out in pairings more since I started writing this. As for Seifer and the real world... like I told Yuki, well, you'll see. You may have the wrong impression, though. Heh, heh.
^^v well, looks like that's it for this one! That's a wrap- see you soon!
(assuming, that is, you click the blue button.)
Raging Ego: "FEED ME!!!"