Author's ramblings: Thanks to those who left me reviews. I hope you enjoy the next chapter. It's a bit longer than the first. Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Squaresoft or anything that belongs to Squaresoft. But I wish I did. Or do.
Chapter 2
"Who sent this?"
"I don't know. I'm just the messenger. I've told you that before. You know these guys never leave names or nothing. They just come back for the answer."
"The answer is no."
"Gotcha."
Seifer Almasy stormed out of the crowded café, tearing up the envelope that held yet another offer in his hands. He tossed the tiny pieces onto the street. As he walked quickly towards his "place", he tried to cool off. He was sick and tired of people offering him this or that, taking advantage of him because they think the fallen knight would want a second chance. In truth, he didn't want a second chance. All he wanted to do was disappear and be forgotten. The last thing he wanted to do was burn out again. He was well aware of his past, the things he did, the lives he took. It haunted him. Every single day, Seifer thought on his actions and the emotions he felt during the days where his mind was poisoned with hate, selfishness, and the lust for power. Yes, the emotions were rooted within him, but it took only a moment of vulnerability, and one bitch of a sorceress, for them to spawn and take control. Once he was drowning in his own mix of emotions, there was no stopping himself.
Seifer shook the thoughts from his head and focused on finding the key to the door instead. Once found, he jabbed the key into the lock, entered his room, and slammed the door shut behind him. He removed his tattered gray trench coat and tossed it onto the rickety old couch that also served as his bed. Finding his way to the center of the room, which was only about two strides for him, Seifer turned on the only light in the room, a yellowing light bulb that hung from the ceiling. It always felt like night time in his room, probably because there were no windows in his basement room so he couldn't tell day from night if he didn't go out. Day and night didn't matter anyway. All the days were nearly the same. Every day the same old shit. He wondered why he stuck around anyway, what he waited for all this time. For four years he'd been rotting in this molding hell hole. He wondered how many more years he had to face.
***
Stella sat on a bench outside the famous shopping arcade of Deling City. She had had breakfast in the hotel and decided to explore the city while she tried to figure out where to begin. Over breakfast she had gone over Seifer's file to try to find some clue as to where to start, but she found no luck. She had to really think this one through. She knew she couldn't go around asking people about him because it could cause some real suspicion and even open old wounds. Exploring was the only way to go for the time being.
"Hi!" a little voice startled Stella from her thoughts.
"Hello there," Stella said to the little boy who had climbed onto the bench to say hello to her.
"Hi!" he chirped again. Stella guessed him to be no more the four years old. His face was round and flushed. The red in his cheeks was emphasized by his red sweater with a four leaf clover knit onto it, which Stella was particularly drawn to.
"Where's your mommy?" Stella asked him. At that moment, a worried and out of breath woman scooped up the boy.
"Gordan! Don't ever run off like that!" the little boy's mother scolded. "I'm sorry if he bothered you, Miss."
"Oh, no," Stella replied shaking her head. "He was no bother."
The woman smiled kindly and disappeared into the crowd with the boy. Stella sighed and checked her watch. It was nearing 8 am. She stood from the bench and walked slowly down the street, weaving in and out of the crowd and making note of all the stores, restaurants, and anything else about the streets she could place into her memory. She turned down a side street and found some clothing stores and fancy apartment complexes. She had found the wealthy neighborhood of Deling City. Stopping and frowning, Stella didn't think a man in hiding would find a place in the ritzy parts of the city. Turning around, Stella made her way back up the street.
Once on the main street again, she walked the opposite direction. If she knew city trends well enough, the wealthy neighborhood usually steered clear of the poorer sections of the city. She knew the main road was long, but she had all day to walk the length of it. As she walked, Stella glanced down the side streets, trying to find anything interesting worth noting. She noticed nothing more than a few small shops, a Laundromat, and an abandoned theater. Stella glanced down another side street which seemed to be mostly under construction. It looked like a broken water pipe was being fixed. She was about to continue down the street when she noticed a sign for a weapons shop. She had no need for new weapons, but she felt like she needed to go into the store.
As she entered the shop, a small bell that hung from the door jingled, announcing her presence. A short man at the counter greeted her.
"Welcome to Sam's Weapons," the man said with a smile. "Can I help you with anything?"
Stella returned the man's friendly smile. "No. I'm just looking around, thanks."
"If you change your mind, just give a holler," the man said.
Stella nodded and turned her attention to the various items and weapons in the store. Swords, knives, and gunblades hung on the far wall. There was another wall displaying guns of all sorts and ammo. There were whips, chains, gloves, and everything and anything that had to do with weapons. Stella walked slowly through the store, fascinated by all the weaponry and saddened by the fact that they needed such weaponry. Stella made her way to the wall of swords, blades, knives, and gunblades. She examined the swords on display, the sword being her own weapon of choice. She examined the flawless craftsmanship of the blades, the polished steel gleaming in the dim light of the store. A flash of steel caught her eye, and she shifted to her right to examine the gunblades.
The gunblade always fascinated her. Not a sword and not a normal fire arm, it was a unique union of both, expertly crafted by only the most skilled weapon artisans. The wide blade had to be fashioned precisely or else it would not fit the barrel of the gun nor would the bullets fire correctly. The hilt is a craft on its own. It needs to be balanced perfectly with the large blade and fit to the mold of the hands. Wielding such a weapon was just as difficult as mastering the craft of making one. It required mush skill and patience, not to mention a lot of pure strength.
A pattern etched into one of the gunblades drew Stella's interest. Down the length of the blade a long cross was painstakingly carved in. The cross looked menacing and bold, though at the same time it looked as if the cross was melting or burning.
"You've been looking for almost an hour now," the man from the front counter said, drawing Stella's attention away from the blade.
"Oh…" Stella said, not aware of the time at all. "I'm sorry."
The man laughed and shook his head. "No, it's alright. I don't get many visitors here anymore. It's good to know a craftsman's work is appreciated."
"You made all these?" Stella asked in surprise.
"Yes, I did. Some of these pieces have been in this store for years. Others sell quickly. I like to think of my work as a real art form rather than weapon manufacturing."
"These are amazing," Stella complimented as she looked the blade up and down once more.
"Do you know what this is?" the man asked, pointing at the cross that Stella had been observing.
"No," Stella answered, looking at the man.
"This is the Fire Cross," the man told her. "Long ago at the dawn of sorcery and magic, there were a group of knights who swore oaths to protect their ladies and young sorceresses. They were valiant and brave. None ever broke the oath. They gladly died on them. The cross represents the union of the knights' most cherished virtues; truth, courage, trust, and honor. The cross is called the Fire Cross because when a knight fell, his body was burned on a pyre shaped in a cross. They said all the virtues of a knight of fire would burn and rise to the heavens to be returned to all of mankind. They also say that if a knight were to be disgraced for any reason, he would accept death by flames because to burn is the hardest pain and death to endure, and the knight chooses the cruelest death to appease his disgrace. The Knights of Fire are said to be the greatest of all kinds of knights in all of history because of their loyalty to their oaths."
"Do they still exist?" Stella asked.
The man shrugged. "Perhaps in the imagination of young men. I don't believe such true knights exist anymore. In the days of old, honor and duty meant everything. In the modern world, such values are rare."
"Only a fashionable symbol with fading meaning," Stella said.
"Yes, something to those likes," the man agreed with a nod.
"I'm sorry for hanging around so long," Stella apologized. "And thank you for that explanation and allowing me to look at such exquisite work."
"No need to apologize. I welcome visitors all the time, even if it is just to look. Now a days, it seems like this shop is more the like a museum than a shop," the man said.
"Well, if I ever need a new weapon, I know where to look," Stella said.
"Well, thank you young lady," the man said with a slight bow of his head. "I've never had a visitor so fascinated with my work. Please come again anytime."
"I will," Stella said. She inclined her head toward the man and made her way to the door.
Stepping out into the street, Stella became aware of the time. The sun was high over head, causing shadows to be cast shorter. It was nearly noon time. She also realized all the walking and exploring was making her hungry, so she decided to continue her walk until she found a place where she could grab a quick lunch. As she continued down the street, she noticed it was quieter and becoming less upscale. Fewer shops lined the streets. Instead, there were more aging apartment buildings and closed down places. Once passed the closed down shops, Stella entered an area full of restaurants, bars, and cafés, and she noticed many of them were crowded with people.
Stella was trying to decide which one to eat at when she noticed an old rotting wood sign swinging in the slight breeze above the entrance to the place. She squinted to try to make it out, and then walked closer to it. The name of the café was rotted out of the wood, but the pattern of the four leaf clover was unmistakable. Stella glanced up at the clover one more time before entering the small café with a strange feeling.
The café did not have many costumers. A few people sat scattered around the place. It was furnished in faded green chairs and table. The wallpaper had turned into a mossy green. A ceiling fan with one of the panels broken spun idly above the register. It was the only thing that stirred the quiet and stale air in the room. Low candles were lit on each worn table even though the sun lit the café through the dirty windows.
Stella took a seat in the corner of the café and waited for the server. A tall, slender, blond-haired woman came over with a menu.
"Welcome to the Clover. I'm Lana. Would you like any coffee?" the waitress Lana said quickly.
"Yes, please. Regular with cream and sugar," Stella answered.
"Okay. I'll be back with that," Lana said and hurried off.
Stella glanced around the room and noticed the stillness. She felt out of place and awkward being in the café, and the strange unsettling feeling that she felt when she entered the café still sat in her. She opened up the small menu and saw there wasn't much choice in food. She decided just to go with a salad.
"Here's your coffee," Lana announced as she placed the cup in front of Stella. "You set to order?"
"Um, yes. The salad please," Stella said.
"That it?"
"Yes," Stella replied.
"Alright," Lana said, taking the menu from Stella.
Stella placed her elbows on the table, rested her chin in her hands, and closed her eyes. The strange feeling she had earlier eased away, and suddenly, Stella felt familiarity and comfort replace the uneasiness she had felt earlier. She felt at home, not out of place like she had just a few minutes ago. She thought she even felt warmth…
Stella slowly opened her eyes. A man dressed in a dark suit entered the café. He crossed to the register and handed the man at the counter an envelope. The man at the counter sneered at the man in the suit, but he ignored it, exiting the café as quickly as he had entered it. But Stella had seen it all in slow motion, as if it was a dream. The next thing she knew, she saw Lana walking towards the table with her salad in hand. Stella shook her head slightly and withdrew herself from the strange state she had entered.
"Salad for you," Lana said as she placed the plate down on the table. "How's the coffee?"
Stella realized she did not taste it yet. "Uh, it's good."
"Need anything else?"
"No, thanks. I'm fine," Stella said. With that, Lana smiled and walked away.
Stella stabbed at her salad with her fork, eating tiny bites here and there. She actually tried the coffee and found it to be a decent cup of coffee. It was better than the stuff they served in Garden. She was in the middle stabbing a particularly stubborn piece of lettuce when she felt a strange stab of pain in her chest. It made her cough a bit, and Stella took a sip of coffee to wash out the pain. She looked across the café and saw a tall man at the register talking to the man at the counter. He wore a tattered gray trench coat, but even in the rags of the coat, Stella could make out the worn out red Fire Cross emblazoned on it. At that moment, she knew that Seifer Almasy was just across the room.
He was conversing with the man at the register and did not look very happy. She saw the man at the register hand Seifer an envelope. It was no doubt the one the man in the dark suit had come in with just moments earlier. Stella saw Seifer instantly crumple the envelope in his large hand. He spoke a few words to the other man, who then looked up and pointed across the room. Stella turned her attention away from the counter and back to her salad before she could see where the man pointed, but she was sure he pointed in her direction. She tried to act calm and casually eat her salad.
In mere seconds Seifer Almasy had slid into the seat across from her.
Stella raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"
"Yes, you can. You're in my seat," Seifer said. He was clearly annoyed.
"Excuse me?" Stella said.
"Are you deaf as well as blind?" Seifer asked, beginning to get angry. "This is my seat, my table. I sit here all the time. Anyone who comes in should know that."
"Well, I'm sorry. It's my first time here, and I was not informed that this table belonged to anyone," Stella said feigning an apologetic tone.
"Now you know," Seifer said, glaring at her. "It would be nice if you moved."
"What? I apologize, but I am enjoying a nice lunch in this spot," Stella said.
"Look, it's been a real shitty day for me, and all I wanted was a nice lunch in this spot. It's normally a reliable picker-upper for shitty days, but this must be the shittiest out of the shittiest of days because not even the reliable is at work," Seifer said exasperated.
"You know, maybe if you had told me that when you first came over here and asked nicely for me to move, I might have considered it," Stella said.
"Please move?" Seifer said angrily, grabbing Stella's wrist.
A wave of pain surged in her veins and her chest tightened at Seifer's touch. She must have gasped in pain because Seifer released her immediately, and an expression of apology replaced the angry wrinkles in his face.
"You must be so angry," Stella gasped as she gripped her chest. The intense pain was slowly beginning to subside.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," Seifer apologized. "I didn't mean to…"
"In here," Stella continued. She tapped her chest with two fingers of her free hand.
Seifer subconsciously rubbed his chest with one hand. "I…"
"I'm okay," Stella said, slowly removing her hand from her chest. "I'll move." Stella stood and began to pick up her salad and coffee, but Seifer motioned for her to sit.
"No, sit," Seifer said. "I didn't mean to blow up on you like that. Bad day…"
Stella slowly sank back into her seat and stretched a hand across the table. "I'm Stella."
Seifer just looked at the hand at first, but then straightened in his seat and shook it. "Seifer."
"Nice to meet you, Seifer," Stella said with a warm smile. He didn't smile back, but she wasn't expecting one. She noticed he was a lot friendlier than she expected despite the initial encounter. He had slightly longer hair than in the photos in the file, but the face was nearly the same, scar and all.
"What brings you to this part of Deling, Stella?" Seifer asked.
Stella shrugged. "Took a walk in the wrong direction I guess, but I like to see all parts of a city anyway. There's always enough glamour to see in any city."
"So why the Clover?" Seifer asked.
"I don't know. Something drew me in," Stella answered honestly.
"Where are you from?"
"Balamb City," Stella answered. "It's a small town so I decided to visit somewhere bigger on vacation. You live here?"
"Yes, I do," Seifer answered. "For a while now. That's why it's strange to encounter new people that take your usual seat."
"Shit happens," Stella said with a slight smile.
"Indeed it does," Seifer agreed with a nod.
Lana appeared once more at the table, setting down a cup of coffee and a plate of food in front of Seifer. To Stella she asked, "How's the salad?"
"It's good, thanks," Stella replied.
"The world must have flipped upside-down or something, eh? Seifer Almasy sitting with anyone but himself?" Lana teased.
Seifer looked up at Lana. "Put a cap in it, will you?"
Lana gave him a dirty look in response and quickly stalked off.
"Old girlfriend or something?" Stella asked.
"Or something," Seifer replied shaking his head. "She'll get over herself."
Stella nodded and stood up, pulling enough gil out of her pocket to cover both meals and a generous tip for Lana. "I think I've pissed off enough people today. I hope you enjoy your meal, and I'll remember the table for next time."
"Leaving so soon?" Seifer said after a sip of his coffee.
"Yeah. I have to find my way back to the city center," Stella said. "It was nice talking to you."
"Well, since you were so kind to treat me to lunch, the least I can do is show you a short cut back to the city center," Seifer said.
"No, no. The lunch is to make up for taking your table and pissing you off so that won't be necessary."
"Like you said before, you didn't know the table was mine, and I was a jerk to be so rude about it," Seifer said. "I'll even throw in a free tour of the major attractions of the city."
"Hmm… major attractions. Sounds tempting," Stella said sarcastically.
"Come on. No one comes to Deling City without seeing the Presidential Residence or the fabulous Caraway Mansion," Seifer advertised mockingly.
Stella laughed. "Alright, alright. You got me there."
