I instinctively know the sun is setting on Esthar. There are no windows with a view in this cold metal room, but I know the sun will soon sink into a watery grave in the West and the moon shall rise as darkness engulfs us. This darkness brings the one I have been waiting for. She is close. Painfully close and we will soon meet face to face. Her arrival will bring completion. Her presence will restore my powers to their fullest. I can scarcely wait.
I have not been myself lately. I feel her so powerfully, taking over my mind and my actions. It's not so bad really, remembering what it was like to be a sweet young lady with a promising future ahead of her. I surrendered my sweetness for power, and as surely as Rinoa herself allowed me into her soul, she will soon do the same. What is the use of gentleness when it is surely crushed by those who wish to dominate and control? The kind ones are those first to break and always the first to run. But she's done well, this girl. I must give her credit. She has fought me every step of the way. She is strong, but I am stronger.
Odine enters, bearing a tray laden with bread and meat to quell my hunger. I accept it gratefully, even favoring him with a tender smile. He is my captor, yet I treat him as though he were a kind host, and this confuses him. The look on his face might be amusing if I were feeling myself.
As he turns to leave, I say, "Odine, come sit with me for a moment. There's something I need to know."
Suspicion clouds his face and he hovers near the door, undecided as to whether he should comply with my request or run for cover.
"I won't bite," I say and a girlish giggle bubbles from my throat. "I'm unarmed, as you can see, and I have no intention of harming you. Please." I indicate for him to sit, eager to pass the time until Rinoa arrives.
"Vat is it?" he asks, choosing to stand a few paces from the door.
"I was wondering," I say, pausing so that I can clearly think out what it is I wish to say, "whatever became of my daughter? Do you know where she is now?"
He pales before me, his pasty skin becoming positively snowy before my eyes. "Vy do you vant to know?"
"I labored for seventeen hours to bring that child into the world. You could at least be kind enough to tell me what happened to her."
"Vell," he says and scratches his head, unable to meet my gaze. "I did many tests on her, to determine if a child such as she, birthed by a sorceress, might have any traces of power vithin her. She did not, but I vas able to determine zat she is a good candidate to receive zose powers in ze future."
"Yes, but what happened to her after your tests?" I ask, pressing for more information. "Did she go to live with her father?"
Odine laughs and shakes his head. "No, no. Caraway vould not recognize that he'd even had intercourse vith you, and denied fathership. His own vife just had a child, our Sorceress Rinoa, and did not vant to complicate matters any more."
"That's just like him," I mutter. These words have come from Rinoa, I am certain. She is so close now. I can feel her every step reverberate in my bones. She will arrive soon. "Where did she go, then?"
"I found her a nice family here in Esthar. They moved to Trabia shortly after her placement. I can not remember their name."
"Please," I beg. "I must know where she went."
"Let me sink," he says, rubbing his chin in contemplation. "Ze name started with a T. Tim something. Something like zat."
"Tilmitt?" I ask and my blood runs cold. I am uncertain as to how I know this, but I feel this is the name he seeks.
"Yes!" He exclaims. "How do you know zis?"
"I don't know," I reply, feeling confused. Sophie Tilmitt. Sophie. Someone Rinoa knows has a name very similar to this. A young woman, a sprite of a thing, comes to mind. She's tiny in every way, perky and has a pair of striking, friendly green eyes. A little ball of energy.
I am flooded with memories of the girl, Rinoa's memories of her. There
are too many to even comprehend all at once. I can't get a fix on this
girl at all, but I feel strongly that she is my daughter. My long lost
child. Sophie Tilmitt.
No. Selphie. Selphie is her name now.
They're following Rinoa to Esthar. All of them. Even my daughter. Rinoa is trying to reach me before they do.
I shall meet my girl for the first time since she was just minutes old. What a joyous day this will turn out to be. My counterpart and my daughter.
But I must have patience. They will all be here in due time, and when
they arrive I will have all the power of Hyne within my soul, and may he
have mercy on the people of this world.
The road to Esthar is a treacherous one. Not only is the land harsh, but there are beasts that cast powerful magic here and I don't look forward to doing battle with them. We have walked this pathway before, under similar circumstances, but at that time we were six strong, even with Riona unconscious, because we were heavy one Sorceress Edea. Today, our party is light by three, heavy one Jilly Strife, whom I met for the first time only today. Zell couldn't say enough about the girl, and I think he's got a thing for her. And he's right. Jilly's one tough slice of pizza. Thus far, I've been quite impressed with her fighting skills, and I can see why Zell's got the hots for her. A few years ago, she might have been the kind of girl I'd chase, what with her looks and her attitude, but I've got all I need in Selphie.
It feels strange to now be the leader of the team, even with Quistis along, when that responsibility once fell to Squall. I never imagined he'd walk away from all this, no matter how hard things were for him. But, Rinoa is his whole world. He'd rather die than have to face her in combat.
The air is heavy and humid at the moment, which is unusual for a stretch of desert such as this one. The sun reflects pure white light from the salty rocks and dust, nearly blinding me as I lead the team through the flats. I'd give my best rifle to be in Esthar already. The bleakness of this salty desert is really starting to get to me. It's like walking through an unearthed graveyard, and it's really giving me the heebie-jeebies. These bones everywhere are pretty creepy.
As we walk, we're forced to make conversation, idle chatter, really, but we all feel we must try and comfort ourselves with it. It's easier to talk about things unimportant than to allow ourselves to face the real issues at hand, the issues we're afraid to discuss. We all fear bringing any of it up, terrified we might jinx our mission. Despite our cheerful talk, our concern for our friends still weighs heavy in the back of our minds and on our hearts. We might have to fight two of our dearest friends. Not something any of us want to ponder for any length of time.
Currently, the ladies are discussing some TV star, debating back and forth the stars' best feature. Quistis says it's his eyes, Selphie disagrees, claiming he has the best lips, and Jilly stubbornly insists it's his firm buttocks. I think he's gay but I don't say so. I made the mistake of putting down a TV idol once and Selphie proceeded to beat me with my own hat for about twenty minutes.
I roll my eyes at them, annoyed. As much as I love women, their need to constantly chatter on about movie stars and make up sometimes really gets to me. Especially when my nerves are on edge, as they are today.
I am thankfully given a reprieve from this silly conversation when Selphie spies something rather large lying in the pathway ahead. "What is that?" she asks, moving to the front and pointing her finger at the figure.
The form lays about twenty yards ahead, motionless and silent. It appears to be a tall man, dressed in gray and black, blending in with the landscape, and he has fallen across the road, his back to us. His coat flaps gently in the breeze.
"Is that a person or a monster?" Quistis asks, squinting. She steps forward to investigate, and we follow close behind. We crowd around the body, curious. The wind has blown a pile of dusty salt against his back and part of the coat obscures his face.
Two red crosses on the sleeves. Sandy blonde hair.
Seifer?
"Is he dead?" Jilly asks, poking at the figure with the toe of her boot. I find this a little morbid, but don't say anything.
"Jilly," Quistis admonishes. "Don't do that. It's disrespectful."
"Yeah, would you want someone poking at you if you died?" Selphie pipes up. "I mean, that's kind of rude."
Jilly shrugs. "Why should I care? I'm dead."
Wearily, I say, "Let's roll him over." This is the last thing I want to do. Of all things, we run across a body in the middle of a Hyne-forsaken salt desert such as this when we need to hurry along as quickly as we can.
Quistis gives me a hand in flipping the body over, both of us curious as to how he perished.
"Oh, Hyne," Quistis whispers upon seeing the man's bloody face. She reels back, landing on her backside with a hard thump and she presses her hands to her mouth to suppress a cry. I guess she didn't realize who the body belonged to.
Seifer lay before us, covered in his own blood. There is a deep, gaping wound across his chest, a straight, even slash with a bullet hole at one end. The kind of mark made by a gunblade.
"Looks like Squall's been through here," I say, standing up and wiping my hands clean of the white powder that covers my hands.
"Is he . . . dead?" comes Selphie's soft voice from behind me.
I tilt my head to the side and secure my hat. The wind here threatens to knock it off with every turn. "If he's not, he will be soon," I say without emotion.
"He's alive," Quistis says. She is now kneeling beside Seifer's fallen figure, and she presses her hand to his throat. "I found a pulse. It's faint, but he's definitely alive."
"We have to help him," Selphie says. Her green eyes turn on me, pleading for me to help the fallen man. I can't resist her. "We can't just leave him here to die. I mean, he may be screwed up, but he's still human."
Quistis nods her agreement and waves her arm above the pathetic form on the ground before us. The brilliant, blue-white light of her cure spell surrounds Seifer's body, shimmering like faerie dust cast to the wind. Seifer's eyes open slowly and he gasps as if he's never gotten a breath of fresh air in his life. For a moment, he repeats this, sucking air into his lungs as if he might never breathe again. The color returns to his cheeks as the wound seals itself closed and the blood ceases to flow.
"What the . . ." he mumbles and sits up, weak and still very pale. He eyes us each in turn with suspicion and something on the verge of hatred.
"Are you all right?" Quistis asks, kneeling down beside him carefully.
"Just peachy," he growls. He shoves her away and gets to his feet. He turns away from us, his gunblade resting on his shoulder. He coughs in a manner, which coming from anyone else, would be cause for concern. I could care less.
When he faces us, I see his eyes are full of rage. I fear he might take it out on us and leave our bodies here to rot in this hell. Seifer . . . why are you like this? You're so propelled to do the wrong thing, so convinced of your means and your ideals, but you're capable of so much more.
I realize, now that Quistis has resurrected him, we will probably have to fight him somewhere down the road.
Instead he smiles the iciest smile I've ever seen on a human being. "See ya, losers," he says and dashes away, full of energy and life once more. I, for one, am glad he's gone, but I'm left with the most uncomfortable feeling of dread. I think we've just complicated matters by trying to do the right thing.
"Well, that was a waste of a cure spell," Jill remarks and kicks her toe in the dust. "He didn't even say thank you."
In the west, the sun is setting and darkness will cloak us in a matter of minutes. From somewhere in the not-so-far-off distance is a low, guttural rumble of thunder. Storm's a comin'. We may not make it to Esthar before it arrives. As it is, we'll be the last to arrive. Who knows what might happen between Rinoa's arrival and ours. I just hope we won't be too late.
"We don't have much time," I say to my troops in a grim voice. "Time to step the pace up a little."
Hope we make it before the storm reaches the city. And I hope we make
it in time to stop Rinoa from doing whatever it is that she came here to
do.
There is only one word for Esthar. Surreal. It's like a place I dreamed about once, but never believed in. Yet, it's here in the rearview mirror of my rental car, I can see it's outlines as clear as the sky above me. Even after several visits, I can still scarcely believe it actually exists in this world instead of only in my night scapes. No matter how many times I've seen it, I still have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not imagining it.
It has begun to rain. Hyne must be weeping above, sobbing his eyes out, for the rain comes in torrents so thick the headlights of my vehicle barely pierce the blackness in front of me. Steering this thing in soggy sand has become difficult, and I pray I won't have to abandon it should it become bogged down. I'd prefer not to walk the rest of the way in this weather. Even though visibility is poor inside the car, it would be even worse outside of it. And I'd have to deal with the monsters. I want to arrive in top form and have my wits about me when I face her.
Time is growing short.
She waits for me.
Anxiety fills me as I draw nearer. I must find the strength to resist her but it's getting harder by the minute. Why did I decide to come on my own? By myself I am vulnerable, weak to her charms and promises. I already know that one of us will fall victim to betrayal and the other will stand victorious in the end. I know that one of us will live through this, but I'm beginning to doubt if it will be me. I've already lost part of myself to her. Will she take the rest of me too? I pray that won't be the case. In coming here, I hope to face her alone and stand against her.
As I drive, I can't help but think of Selphie. She's been on my mind since sundown. I don't think about anything in particular, just the way she looks and talks, her girlish mannerisms. Her name repeats over and over in my head.
Selphie. Selphie. Selphie . . .
She has nothing to do with any of this, so why can't I get her off my mind? Does Adel wish to do something with Selphie? Is she part of the plan?
In the distance, I see the lights of Dr. Odine's laboratory, Lunatic Pandora stands behind, illuminated by a strange glow of it's own that penetrates through the heavy rain. Finally. Within a few more minutes, I'll be there and maybe I will be complete again.
But the question is, will I be completely Adel, or completely me? Or, will I cease to be at all? My hands tremble on the steering wheel as I contemplate this. I don't want to lose myself to her, nor do I wish to become like her. I don't even want to be in this car, driving to what may be my death or something worse: my ascension into the ranks of intolerable, murderous sorceresses. Yet, I'm here, piloting this contraption towards a fate that can not be denied. I don't have the power to turn back now. It's all or nothing.
Relief floods through me as I pull into the lot before Odine's lab and park the car. I switch off the engine and sit back with my eyes closed.
Hyne, give me the strength to defy her. I want no part of these plans.
Armageddon. Doomsday. Ragnarok. Judgment Day. Day of Ascension. The Great Fall. Second Coming of Hyne. The End.
No matter what you call it, it still spells the end of life as we know it, and not a single soul will escape her control. Or my control. Hyne, I'm so confused. I don't know who I am anymore. Am I Rinoa or Adel?
I want no part of it.
But I am already so deeply imbedded in this scheme, I can not bring myself to start the engine of the rental car and turn back.
With great trepidation, I open the door and make a run for the long awning that leads inside. Around me, the rain sounds like a freight train as it pounds against the concrete lot and sidewalk. I am soaked to the bone from those few seconds of exposure to the torrent of water that weeps from the heavens.
Shivering, I open the door and step inside, not caring that my clothing make a puddle around my feet as water drips from me. I am drawn towards the set of doors before me. Slowly, I walk to them as my heart thunders heavily in my chest and my hands tremble at my sides.
She is waiting.
Tentatively, I push at the doors, not expecting them to open with such a gentle push, but they swing open so slowly, I have to wonder if they're electric.
I step inside. The walls are thick, made of some kind of metal, and the room is barren, save a chaise lounge, a straight backed chair and a small cocktail table between them.
I walk slowly inside, searching for the woman who has beckoned to me from so far away, but she is not here. I am alone in this chamber. Have I come all this way for nothing? No, she's here, somewhere, very close too. She's hiding from me, playing some kind of game with me. In time, I'm sure she'll reveal herself.
Have a seat.
Spinning on my heel, I search for the voice, but the room around me is empty.
Do not be afraid. I won't hurt you.
I know I won't find the speaker of these words, for she's inside my head. I can hear her so clearly, her voice almost echoes as it would inside this metal room.
"Where are you?" I ask the walls around me, still searching for her.
No need to speak. I can hear your thoughts.
"Please show yourself. I've been traveling for hours and I'm exhausted." I plead with her. In this room, my voice sounds much like a little girl, frightened and lost.
In due time, my dear.
"Please," I say, taking a seat in the chair. My whole body trembles, chilled from the rain.
My dear, are you cold? I shall have one of Odine's aides bring you something to change into.
"Thank you." I rub my arms to try and bring warmth back to my skin.
Only moments later, a young pimply-faced aide arrives with a thick bundle of clothing, apparently meant for me. I take it gratefully and begin to change as soon as he leaves.
The outfit was obviously chosen for me in the colors I most prefer, though in a style I am not familiar with. It is a perfect fit, though and rather pretty if not somewhat odd.
The top is of a sheer blue material with wide bell sleeves. Over this, I wear a black corset that laces up the back and cinches my waist to emphasize a long ballroom skirt in the same shade as the top, though made of a thicker, heavier material that shimmers a little in the pale light. I should feel confined in this contraption, but I don't. It's like a skin I never knew I had. I feel elegant, beautiful and most of all, powerful.
Shall I draw your laces?
"Would you?" I ask, a haughty tone in my voice I've never heard before.
Seconds later, I feel hands at my back, pulling tightly at the corset strings, vicious yanks that squeeze the breath out of me. My posture straightens as the hands pull the strings tighter and tighter, and my bosom spills generously over the top of the corset, revealing more of me than I would generally feel comfortable with. But I'm not myself anymore. Part of me is now her and what's left of me is under her control. I struggle to keep her at bay, to retain my presence of mind, but being so close to her makes it all the more difficult to hold her off. Hyne help us if I can't keep her away.
"All done. Are you ready to face me?" Her voice is warm, gentle, yet there's an underlying note of danger to it. She's behind me and I can feel her breath on my skin, so close, so real and so very evil.
"More than ready," I breathe, closing my eyes as her hands caress my rain soaked hair.
"Then turn around."
The part of me that is still Rinoa screams for me to run. Run far. Run fast. Still, I turn and face her, Adel the Great and Powerful, Almighty Descendent of Hyne.
As our eyes meet, I see into her soul, which is now the same as mine. We are two of a kind, distinguishable only by our outward appearance. Two of a kind, one in two bodies. Our personalities are equal, one in the same. My body drains of fear, my hands cease to tremble. I am Sorceress Rinoa Heartilly, Daughter of Hyne, Angel of the Damned.
She has her claim on me now. Funny, I didn't expect it to be so easy for her to take me. I thought there'd at lest be a fight, either internally or one of the physical kind, but she has reached in and grabbed hold. Terror fills my mind as I try to release myself from hers, but she's so strong. I can't make her let me go. A fool I was to think I could stand against her.
"We shall be unstoppable."
I smile at her and take her large, muscular hand as she leads me to the wall. She places her hand flat against the dull steel, her nails clicking against it like the snare on the bottom of a soldier's drum. Slowly, the metal becomes molten, swirling and boiling around her fingertips until a large mirror emerges where there was once nothing but wall.
You and I are linked and bound for eternity. We shall be as sisters, you and I. All that you wish for will be ours.
Her words echo in the room, though she has not spoken a single one aloud.
Behold your power, Rinoa
A pair of glorious black wings, identical to those in my dreams, unfurl upon my back, shimmering with multi-faceted light in every color and charged with electricity. The lights pulse with my very own heartbeat, the colors ever changing, swirling in every direction. The black, glossy feathers burn with every color imaginable, and they are the most stunning thing I have ever seen.
I can feel the air in the room stir around me as they bat gently at the air. I can feel their weight on my back, heavy but not a burden. .
I have become.
"You like what you see, young Sorceress?" Adel lays a hand upon my shoulder as I stare at my reflection and I am ripped from my own body. A cold darkness surrounds me. I don't know where I am, but I know I can not see the room around me any more.
"Yes," my voice comes in a whisper, ragged and dry. I hear myself speak from miles away. Exhaustion over comes me and I begin to drift. Sleep will come soon. I'm grateful. I don't want to be there when I face Squall and I don't want to hear the things I might say to him. I hope he knows I love him.
Rinoa, the one I used to be, is no more. She does not exist in this body any longer. She's a thing of the past. I am now what she never could have been by herself.
I am Sorceress Rinoa Heartilly, Angel of the Damned.
