Meeting Love, Finding Despair
Chapter Ten
The Truth of it all
May all love
His unseen but felt o'er shadow thee
The love of all thy sons encompass thee
The love of all thy daughters cherish thee
The love of all thy people comfort thee
Til God's love set thee at his side again
Idylls of the King
-Alfred Lord Tennyson
She stood watching the sun fade into night, the sunset pure, like the water. It had been three days since she was released from hospital, the chemotherapy having gone ahead as planned. She had taken time off from work, needing it to rest.
As Seifer came and went, so did a steady stream of friends and visitors wishing her better health than what she had.
"Mummy?" Shira's voice broke into Quistis's reflections, as she tugged her hand for attention, "Mummy?"
Quistis turned, kneeling down to her daughter's level to speak to her. "Yes, Darling?" she asked softly, gathering her daughter into her arms, enveloping her in a hug.
"Where's Seifer?" she asked.
Quistis frowned. "He's away…He's gone away for a little while. He'll be home soon though."
She knew exactly where he was, but that knowledge did not ease her pain, nor did it make her happy to know he was on business.
~*~
Seifer Almasy frowned as he boarded the crowded train to head to the Dollet Dukedom. Irvine was to meet him there. As it was at least 20,000 kilometres to Dollet, Seifer had packed a rucksack with clothes and other necessary items.
As the scenery sped by on the intercontinental rail, Seifer thought about a lot of things.
I guess, in the end, it'll all depend on the people of Dollet, he thought, if they're willing to accept me, Seifer Lukyan Almasy, or if they'll clamour to have my head chopped off and placed on a pike for all of Dollet to see.
He shuddered at the mental image presented to him. Whatever he was, he did not want his head placed upon a pike. To him, that was crueller than what he had ever done, inhumane, unsanctioned. Even if he'd done and seen some pretty cruel things, that was the worst he could ever imagine.
While he was in prison, he'd had a long time to think. The life he'd led had been tough. As a child, he'd delighted in tormenting Zell and Squall, long before and after Ellone had come and gone, almost like the tempestuous storm that rages only temporarily.
He soon drifted off to sleep, dreams plaguing him.
Seifer stood in the middle of a desert, the hot sun beating down heavily upon his exposed neck and back as he shovelled a hole futilely. All he wanted to do was get out of the hot sun; into a refuge he built for himself.
The scene shifted, he was standing on a beach at midnight, tears streaming down his face as he cried out to the high heavens. He ran his hands through his hair, the waves crashing into his body, one after the other, over and over again.
The next thing he saw was a coffin being lowered into the grave, unadorned and mourners standing well away. He tried to move forward, observe those mourners, but they shifted out of shape, into a twisted and grotesque castle.
He saw himself as a knight once more, holding his Gunblade high in the air, upon a float not unlike the one so long ago. He saw, beside him, a woman with grey hair, at least twenty years younger than him.
Seifer awoke then. As his vision readjusted, he noted that the movement of the train had slowed to a halt. Stretching his arms as he stood up, he brushed passed an elderly woman, who, tugged at his sleeve.
"You are Seifer Almasy?" She asked, her voice rusty, like she had smoked for too long.
He frowned. Usually, he was known for his notoriety as the Sorceress's lapdog. If he was surprised when she knew his name, he was even more unprepared when she continued without waiting for an answer.
"I know what it is you seek, young man. And I can tell you, there will be great rejoicing and happiness to come in your life, but, also, a great sadness," the crone said knowingly.
Seifer was stunned. It took him a few minutes to find his voice. "How do you know this?" he asked.
She chuckled, "I know many things, Seifer," she said. "I am Conna, wise woman, if you wish."
It was then, for the first time, that Seifer took a closer look at the old crone. She was old, past any age that could be achieved from use of the GF, with jet black hair and eyes that shone like stars, undying and never aging.
He was frightened of her.
Slowly, he turned, away from the woman, and, without one backward glance, walked away into the metropolis that was Dollet.
In the heart of the city, where he had taken the fateful and last SeeD exam, Seifer saw a man in a tan leather military long-coat.
"Irvine!" Seifer called out, "Glad you could make it."
Irvine turned at the sound of Seifer's voice. "Hello Seifer," he said cordially, "I'm here, just as you requested. What's up?"
Seifer smirked. "Come out of the open, into a café, less people can hear us there," he said with a glance, "There's so much to tell, I don't know where to begin."
The two men walked towards the Nautilus, the inn that had sustained and remained through many varied occupations and attempted invasions of Dollet. It was as old as the city itself, dating back almost 500 years, to the first ruler of Dollet's expansive and vast empire.
Once inside, Irvine and Seifer sat down at a small table in a dingy room inside the Nautilus. It was furnished sparsely; with only a table, two chairs and a bench with a sink and a fridge. The blinds were closed and the light hung suspended from an unshaded cord fastened to the ceiling.
"I only recently heard the story from a merchant who I know well and trust," Seifer began, kicking his feet up onto the table, leaning his chair against the wall.
"Then tell it, Seifer," Irvine said, "I don't have all the time in the world. Selphie's baby is due any day now, and I'd like to be back in time for the birth of my fourth."
Seifer quirked his eyebrow slightly, hardly surprised at the news. "I see," he said, "Well, it's gonna take some time, and you probably won't believe half of it."
Seifer began to tell the story, telling what he knew from Giani, and also what he'd found out on the shadier parts of the media links. He handed a small sheaf of paper to Irvine.
Irvine took the sheets of paper, scanning them quickly. One of them was a record from the Registrar of Births, Marriages and Deaths, containing the names of Seifer's parents, their wedding date, a birth certificate registering Seifer as their son and a death certificate. The other documents were eyewitness accounts of Lukyan and Alyeena's murder, newspaper articles and a sepia photograph of Seifer's grandfather and grandmother.
Once Irvine had scanned the papers, he glanced up. "I see," he said finally, "So, you want me to kill the impostor, your uncle?"
Seifer nodded. "Exactly," he said, "Tonight, meet at the Communications Tower around 2100, we'll go from there."
Irvine smiled. "It's a pleasure doing business with you, Almasy," he said.
At 2100, Seifer and Irvine arrived at the Communications Tower. It was later said that the two had agreed to meet there to discuss the assassination. Then, the noise of gunfire rang out, a man came running out from behind the tower, blood soaking his white leather jacket.
Was it Seifer?
The answer to that is still unresolved. All the news links knew and had heard was the story of a man wielding an Exeter had shot Tarkin Almasy. However, there was later evidence that proved it was not the same bullets found in the gun that Irvine Kinneas was most famous for.
Seifer headed back to Esthar about two months after the assassination took place. He had to convince the parliament that he was Alyeena and Lukyan's son. He had the jewellery to prove it.
While all this was happening, Quistis gradually faded into feeling like he would never come back for her. Alone, unwanted, and unwell.
However, she knew deep in her heart he would return for her. If he didn't love her so much, she knew he wouldn't. Their love was the type that was sacred, rare, special. It wasn't an every day occurrence to have a man appear from the back of hell and beyond on the day you were least expecting it.
The day soon came when Seifer did arrive back home. "Seifer!" Quistis gasped, as she ran towards him, flinging her arms around his neck, not wanting to let go.
He pulled her close, kissing her on the lips softly as he spun her around. "Love you, Quistis," he said with a smile that was reserved only for her.
Love was good, life was beautiful. There was a calm repose, and a sweet serenity as Seifer knelt down on one knee.
"Quistis Gosia Trepe, will you do me the honour of being my wife?" Seifer asked in a voice that meant he'd go to the ends of the world for her.
She stood there for a moment. Thoughts whirring in her head as she considered it. Of course, the answer was simple.
Opening her mouth, she let out the fateful answer.
"Yes," she said.
A/N. This hasn't been updated for quite some time…Sorry about that…
To all my readers, thanks for the encouragement.
-Quis.