Chapter Forty: Hatred

There were no words to articulate how confused each felt, the three stared at the closet in complete shock. It wasn't as if they were insane, they had all been in that hallway…even Seifer and Squall had been within its depths. Maybe there was some elaborate holographic projector protecting the existence of the passage, one that had been damaged when the Estharian attack occurred. Maybe the illusion had something to do with the anti-magic field, although none had heard of such a thing, it wasn't an impossibility, right? Quistis held the doorknob tighter, her grasp increasing as more possible solutions ran through her mind.

The sound of a key being inserted into the far door made them temporarily forget about the question they couldn't answer. In unison, all jumped back into the closet, although each felt uncomfortable at doing so. When Zell first entered, his feet caught on a mop that was lying on the floor, which completely blew Quistis' projector theory. Whatever was in there was definitely solid objects, and not holographic projected ones.

Four soldiers entered the classroom, shutting the door behind them. Quistis could see through the keyhole just a bit, enough to tell that they were not in there on official business. One pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and then passed it around to the others. Three sat on the tabletops, and the fourth seemed to be acting as lookout to the main hallway door. It was obvious by their demeanor, they weren't supposed to be on this smoking break. If years of training had taught the young SeeD anything, it was that this time-off was certainly unauthorized. It had been an almost everyday occurrence being a teacher; whether it was students at Garden, or members of the Galbadian Army didn't seem to make much difference, basic human behavior was universal.

The three stood silent as the soldiers conversation seemed to echo through the vacant class. It wasn't as if they were speaking in a loud tone, their voices carried a great distance within the hollowness.

"This is just fucking unbelievable, first we spend two years looking for her, now we are taking orders from her?"

"You know, I heard rumors from some of Mitchell's personal guards that he's completely obsessed with her…in a downright freaky way."

"My brother works up in Alpha-Blue unit, and he said the creep even has some shrine to her or something…but it's supposed to be 'eyes only.' Even talking about it could get you shot."

"I heard about that once, figured it was another one of the baseless rumors around here."

"Oh, and what about that Almasy guy they're going to execute? Caleb, didn't you used to work for him?"

At the sounding of Seifer's name, Quistis tensed up as her heart momentarily stopped in mid-beat. It was only a split-second later that the word 'execute' registered, and suddenly her world sank. "No," was the only word that ran repeatedly through her mind. The closet they were standing in, unlike the hall, wasn't completely within the dark. Streams of light entered from around the doorframe, allowing their silhouettes to be seen to one another.

Quistis paused as she felt someone coming up next to her, and even more surprise when the figure placed an arm around. She could tell by the touch it was feminine, and was surprised as Alex crouched next to her offering silent emotional support. She truly had been Rinoa's only friend during the entire ordeal, and had no earthly reason to comfort her figurative enemy, but that's exactly what she did.

And in that moment, the instructor first noticed the similarities that Alexandra shared with an older sister she had never known. She wasn't the outspoken, sometimes coarse person who all but ignored Quistis the last few days. The human heart could only handle so much before it wanted to reach out, Ellone would have been proud. It is hard to think about losing someone you love, that language was universal, even to someone whose acquaintance goes no further than sharing oxygen hiding in a closet. Alex never said a word, or offered more than the comfort of letting Quistis know she wasn't alone…but it was enough. Fighting back the tears, she listened as the soldiers continued to speak to one another.

Her attention turned back toward the outward scene with a slight bit more urgency. She watched as the guard seemed to linger on his last drag of the cigarette before answering.

"Work for him? That's a far cry from reality; he was just some puppet on a string. That's when the last sorceress claimed power. I was first assigned security detail under Vinzer Deling, until Edea clipped his sorry ass. Don't you think these guys will ever learn…get in bed with a sorceress and you die? Ten bucks says this one does Mitchell in within twenty-four hours. Does history not teach these morons anything?"

"So Almasy was in bed with that other sorceress, huh? Kinda kinky."

"Don't know about that…hell, wouldn't even want to know about that! Just know that the guy came from nowhere acting as if he were Hyne himself…personally I was rooting for Leonhart at the parade. Shit, you know how long it took to put that one float together? It took us three goddamned weeks to build. One float…for an entire parade, you would think these guys would at least get a clue."

The guard at the door had remained quiet, but bringing up the subject of their former leader and knight, he couldn't help but add his two-cents worth.

"I worked with Almasy too, fought under him when Balamb attacked Galbadia, guy had me jumping a freakin motorcycle between two flying Gardens…idiot. I'm not upset to see him killed, he was a complete asshole. Hell, I'd actually pay to get a front row ticket…kinda going to miss that other chick though…she was a looker."

"Heard she was doing it with the President's entire staff…guess that's why she is being executed first huh?"

"Kind of funny that they are going to be killed at the Palace jail in front of everyone. He probably pissed half of them off and she probably screwed the rest of them."

The door flew open as the position of lookout had been momentarily abandoned. All four jumped to attention tossing away evidence of their habit. It didn't work. They all received a severe reprimand, followed by a formal reciting of Galbadian rules of conduct for military personal. After what seemed like a hundred articles and sections were read, the superior handed them paper, informing each they were going to copy the rules verbatim onto paper.

It seemed like they were going to have their fate sealed in a closet, and Seifer in the prison cell.

"Damn it!" Zell's voice rose a little more than he meant to. He was going to be the last to admit it to anyone, but somehow the idea of Seifer being killed wasn't as enticing as it was four days ago.

"Hey that birdie-lighting guy in my head seems to be making a lot of noise all of a sudden." Alex grabbed her temples at the unfamiliar sensation, and the annoyance of the Guardian still speaking a foreign dialect.

"I don't feel anything different."

"Wait Zell, we've grown accustom to the feeling, maybe the anti-magic field is down again."

"So, why can't Ifrit just say that then?"

"They're here to support us on our journeys, not tell us everything. Some things we must still learn or discover on our own."

Back in the classroom, the four guards sat the table as they were going through the agony of copying the doctrine word-for-word. Not one heard the slight creak of the door, or the word "Sleep" until it was far too late…

If Selphie had one thing going for her, it was that her ideas were timeless…such as stealing three Galbadian uniforms. Unlike earlier when they turned the guards granite, this time they worked together keeping the men indisposed…and in no condition to retaliate. Now three of the four troops were wearing nothing more than t-shirts and boxer shorts…the fourth still kept his uniform, and his dignity, intact…sort of. All four bound and gagged, and then carefully placed in the supply closet. A final sleep spell was cast for good measure, and then the fake soldiers were free to walk blindly out into the hallway.

The trip to the cell could have taken ten minutes, but in their state of urgency they made the long trek in under three. Although the immediate threat of danger had receded for the moment, Deling officials seemed to be more cautious about a second wave of attacks from either Esthar or Balamb. So seeing scattered troops running down the corridors was commonplace, so their haste fit among the masses.


He never figured his final moments of life to come down to this…maybe something grander or at least not ending in a rat-filled prison. Seifer sat on the hard brick surface that was both a bench and a bed for most of the life-long prisoners. He had his share of cells, but this was by far the worst. Because it was hidden within the walls of the Palace, no civil liberties applied or were completely ignored, and it by any other standards was a no more than a medieval dungeon. It was the place that time forgot and in a few moments, he would be a memory contained within its walls.

He ran his hand through his hair, and then rested his head on the emptiness of the brick wall. Was his end really supposed to be like this? He promised himself one thing, he would not fight…if this was what fate decided, he would forever abide by it. He had given all he could in the last few days, more than he even knew ever lay in is cold-hearted exterior.

He wondered if Rinoa was safe, he wondered if Squall had reached her. Would they have the storybook ending she had often dreamed while spending their summer days sitting on the beach? Even if Seifer wasn't her soul mate, he was glad he had met her, he became a better person in just knowing her. Somehow he figured, whatever those two would have…would never be storybook, but something much more passionate with highest-highs, and deepest-lows, that would try the test of any human soul… Yet, they would make it down the road in the end…if the fates would allow.

He wondered about Alexandra, he wondered if Zell would ever be able to handle her strong mindset. He laughed inwardly when he realized that he and Alex almost shared the same sardonic humor, bet that would truly kill the martial artist to hear that comparison. Hell, the guy took a bullet for her the first day; it took him almost eighteen years to come to that point with anyone. He might have teased him a lot, but in the end, Seifer only had the greatest admiration for the man, and somehow wished he could have been more free-spirited like him…

He wondered about of all those left behind, not by choice, but by circumstance. Would Garden grant the pardon for both Fujin and Raijin? Even in his darkest hours, the former knight believed in Cid. As much as he and the headmaster had fought through the years, when it came down to it, he believed the man in his word. Maybe those two thought too much alike on some accounts, where rules held Cid back, compared to where Seifer walked boldly. He believed Cid and Edea would make it through these events, just as they always had…maybe not completely intact, but they were survivors.

He thought of Selphie, the little messenger girl he had hardly known in their latter years, and of Irvine, the Galbadian man who filled his place at Garden when the tides had turned. Those two had something special between them also, but their passions never seemed to be worn on their sleeves like him or Leonhart. They were more stable, but by no means less zealous than the others. He could understand why Squall trusted in them, if destiny was cruel and Allison was left an orphan.

Then he thought of the countless, nameless masses that he had encountered over the years…some he killed, some were spared, and some no more than specs in his memory. This was the legacy he left, the failure, the deceit, and the myriad of heartache.

He did everything…but think of her.

His eyes opened out of their weary state when a loud 'bang' thunder through the room. Two men stood at his cell door, opening the lock. They grasped him, knocking him down to the floor. The first man kicked his ribcage several times, as the other stood by door laughing. Finally they grabbed him, dragging him to his feet. In handcuffs, he was escorted into a central room in the upper regions of the prison. These cells seemed to be for holding, more than long term, as several men were jammed into each one.

He glanced down to the floor, noticing a drain where a river of scarlet blood ran through. He followed the flow with his eyes, until they landed upon the source. A female body was being dragged away, and the blood spilled freely from her temple. The head no longer identifiable, but the dress he had known to be as the woman upstairs with Mitchell. Is this how is life was to end, dragged away like yesterday's trash?

They bound his hands behind his back, not with cuffs this time, but with rope…rope that they pulled tight until it had fused within his skin. They took him to his knees and then blindfolded him, for what reason he didn't know...but maybe in the darkness he would find solitude.

But in the darkness he couldn't help but think of her.

His mind raced like a projector running the movie of his life. It was true what they said about your life passing before your very eyes, maybe that is done so your final moments you can truly know what kind of person you were…even if the answer isn't the one you want. But for all the evil, she would always remain the good. Her hair flowing in the sea-breeze in Balamb a week ago, their time aboard the boat, their endless conversations, the things they wouldn't dare speak to another, their heartbeats dancing together in Dollet, and nothing more memorable than the feeling of her skin upon his.

"Do you have any final requests?" The executioner asked, not that he cared about the answer, it didn't matter to him either way.

He wanted to come up with a witty retort, a snappy comeback, so they would always remember him…but he didn't. He shook his head once to signify 'no' and that was it… He wanted to leave this world in peaceful silence, thinking of the one good thing he found in it…Quistis.

"It's your dying right buddy, just don't make a huge mess of my floor, okay?" He heard the man take a few paces back, and then he heard the cock of the gun…

"Hold on!" Another voice called from behind him. "You're not going to believe this shit, Mitchell wants this guy back."

"What the hell? What's going through his fucking mind now? Hope he doesn't want his chick back either, but knowing that sicko, he wouldn't care if she wasn't breathing."

"Look, we just have orders to bring him back up…don't ask me. If we don't we'll be the next on Mitchell's ever-changing hit list."

Seifer felt someone pull him to his feet, yanking off the blindfold. Until that point, never had a jail cell looked like heaven. His mind raced, trying to comprehend all the events that transpired, but they were beyond comprehension…even he knew that. What had changed Mitchell's mind? What had Rinoa done? He hoped that whatever it was, would be forgiven by the others.

They led him just out of the confines of the prison area, and the guard yelled to three other soldiers passing by. "Hey you, I need you to escort this prisoner up to the President's office. Take the long way…he has other 'official business' he is seeing to right this second."

The men saluted as the transfer of the prisoner was made. Seifer saw this as his chance to escape, now the only thing bound were his wrists. As if the guard could sense his thoughts, he turned to the prisoner stating, "Don't be a freakin' chicken-wuss and try to escape."

No other time in his life had Zell's voice sounded so comforting, and judging by the size of the other two guards, he had a fairly good idea of their identities. They walked the distance of the corridor, heading up a flight of stairs, never breaking the illusion that all around believed. The four ducked into a vacant room, closing the door tightly behind them.

Quistis was the first to take off her helmet, sweaty hair matted to her face. It was as if she couldn't control her own actions as she threw down her helmet grabbing him tightly, bringing his body next to hers. Their lips met and the sensation of being alive ran throughout Seifer's entire being. When they parted, they just stared deeply into one another's eyes.

"Just so you know it, I've never kissed anyone in a Galbadian uniform before," Seifer smirked raising an eyebrow to her.

"I guess I should be happy about that," she whispered running her hand along his jawbone. "God I thought that…" her words trailed as she leaned her head against his chest.

"I know…me too." He wanted to hold her, to put his arms around her, but still they were still bound by the ropes. "Um, think one of you guys could untie me?"


"Oh Hyne Squall!" The words escaped her mouth, as she tried to push Mitchell off her. "No!"

She managed to snake out from underneath him, running toward the fallen knight. With immense force, she was quickly yanked back by the wrist. She felt a snap in her shoulder, but ignored the pain. Before the realization struck, Mitchell had placed one handcuff around her wrist. While she tried to physically fight him off, her magically abilities were once again dormant, and mental fatigue and exhaustion were taking their toll.

"Squall! I need you!"

"I thought you needed me? Damn you lying bitch…now what am I supposed to do?"

"Die," she gasped between tears, "just die."

He slapped her across the face, leaving a blemish that covered the entire side of her jaw. She didn't even wince in pain, nothing else registered at that moment but Squall. "Thanks to you the one person who could have handled your powers is now dead. What do you expect me to do? I have to find someone who will follow my command, someone these imbeciles will follow into power."

He looked at her as he forcefully locked the second cuff around her wrist. "You…it will be you. I can destroy you yet, I will kill everyone you love or have ever cared about one-by-one. Remember I know them all, from your Forest Owl friends to your daughter Rinoa…each will die until you serve me. You know me, you know what I am capable of…remember your joke of a husband I killed at Balamb Garden? I went about this the wrong way before…I will have you. You will be mine."

"I'm Rinoa, damn it!" Her words were more to reassure herself right now, afraid of losing her own reality. In between sobs she cried, "Julia was my mother, Allison is my daughter, and Squall is my…oh God…what have I done?"

At the words, he swung her around and tossed her onto his desk. Her head hit the hard surface with force, and she momentarily lost surroundings as her vision darkened from the blow. Mitchell grabbed her forearm tightly, leaving reddened bruises with every abrasive touch. This, this had happened before…too many times. She knew this, she knew what was about to happen. She lived it before, but not now. Her vision once again came into focus, and tried to turn her head from him, but he quickly grabbed her jaw making her look him in the eyes. With his other hand, he tore the thin strap, ripping the material completely off her shoulder. Finally he released the vigorous hold on her jaw, and used that hand to gather up the material from below, lifting it past her knees. She tried to kick, but it was no use, as he was more powerful and dominating in the situation. She turned her head away this time, without his objection, as he was worried about other things.

Then she saw them, the slight metallic reflection out of the corner of her eye. Her thoughts went back to Deling, to the corner drug store…to where she stole a pair of scissors. She had thought, at the time it was the closest thing to a weapon she could find, in a pinch they would work, and right now, they could be her only salvation. Her hands still remained handcuffed in front of her, but while he was busy ripping at her gown, she took that second to raise her arms over her head.

She tried to roll to her side, as they were just out of fingertips reach. Whether it was miracle or fate, would always elude her. Rinoa didn't know how, she managed to grab the circular handles. The tailor's scissors were far more dangerous than the ones she had taken, with a sharpness that could rival a knife. She closed her eyes, as she clasped the cool metal rings in her hand.

"Forgive me," she prayed to gods or anyone who would listen. Rinoa opened her eyes, jamming one knee into his groin. He gasped at the pain, liberating his restraint for just one moment. One moment is all she needed. She looked deep into his eyes, into his darkened soul. "I will never be yours!" With power unknown, she plunged the scissors into his chest. She felt the instruments dive deep into muscles and through his ribcage…and then she plunged them in deeper.

The crimson blood spilled out, leaving trails of her sin down her white robe.

She had killed, not as a sorceress, as any other mortal would. Their eyes never parted, and try as she might, she couldn't feel the slightest remorse. A shiver ran through her when she realized how indifferent she felt right now...how much hatred was clouding her very soul.

As Mitchell grabbed at the metal instrument protruding from his chest, the door was knocked with tremendous force. Rinoa turned from the dying man, as the blood was still covering her hands. Quistis was the first to walk in, followed by the other three. The two women momentary looked at one another spellbound, the evidence of guilt clearly shrouded on Rinoa's stained robes.

Turning her attention, Rinoa watched her victim as he struggled for his last standing breaths. Jefferson Mitchell collapsed to the ground, before his eyes slowly shut. She watched every second, every breath he took. It was a fascination from which she could not break, completely still, completely unmoved, and completely void of emotion.

"Hyne…" She heard Alex plea from amid the silence. "Squall… does anyone have some strong cure spells?"

The words brought Rinoa back into her surroundings. "Squall," she softly whispered, before calling it more frantically, "Squall?" She ran over to his side, falling onto her knees beside her knight. She gathered him into her arms, much in the same fashion she had done after time compression. The cuffs made it more difficult this time around, but she wouldn't let him go…not now, not ever.

"I killed him, I killed him." She rocked back and forth cradling his body chanting the manta aloud.

"No," Seifer said placing his forefinger to the commander's throat. "Looks like you knocked him out a little…or a lot…but he'll be okay. Just give him a moment. Do you know if the magic barrier is up again?"

"No…it's down," she said as tears fell onto his face, tracing a path on his skin. The excess blood that once covered her body was now soaking into the dark uniform jacket Squall had been wearing. Seifer reached down, casting a Curaga spell, slowly it radiated out of his hands with vibrant hues of lavender.

"Give him a minute." Seifer looked at Rinoa, tucking some stray hair behind her ears. "How, how did you get Mitchell to stop my execution…one more second and I would be…" The words trailed off as he had a hard time accepting them, or maybe the consequences that led to his release.

"I did what I had to do," she whispered. He remained silent accepting her words. He knew that whatever she had done almost cost Squall his life.

"We have the audio-tape of Kimberley and Mitchell hopefully there will be enough evidence on here," offered Quistis. She had gone to Seifer's coat, picked it up, and pulled out the recorder. Hitting the stop button, she walked back, handing the coat back to its rightful owner.

Alex kneeled down and placed her arm around Rinoa trying to offer whatever comfort she could. Silently, the younger girl laid her head upon her friends shoulder, accepting the gesture for all it was worth.

"Rinoa there is a press conference in about thirty minutes, and thanks to Seifer's contacts, they will have a new top story. By morning, the entire world will know of his plan concerning your power, and what he did to you…and to your father, maybe then there can be some closure, and Galbadia can start the process of moving on."

"Hey you." Rinoa looked down in shock to the now conscious person in her arms. "That wasn't very nice…" He managed an uncharacteristic grin, one only meant for her. He brought one hand to his face and rubbed his eyes. "Next time I use Quezacotl, I'll think twice."

"You're welcome to have the Guardian back…he's driving me insane," quipped Alexandra looking down at the SeeD Commander. "Glad to have you among the conscious, Squall."

"Don't you know it," added Zell, bending down contributing his opinion. Squall waved his hand, acknowledging the statement before looking back at the person holding him securely.

"Love you," he whispered. Then for the first time he tried to stare into Rinoa's eyes, but she turned and the realization hit. "You….you killed him." She bit her bottom lip, as she nodded her head, shamefully hiding her face from his. He reached up, trying to wipe some blood from her face, but only managing to spread it around her cheek. "It's okay…you did what you had to do."

She snickered at the irony of the same words she just told Seifer, thinking she thought the same phrase two years ago when she ran. She did what she had to do, she always did what she had to do… For a minute, she was glad that Squall never witnessed the bloody sin, or the hideous act that almost transpired leading up to it. He may never have forgiven himself if he knew the whole truth, but then again, maybe he did know…

"Rinoa, look at me," he pleaded with such sincerity she couldn't refuse him. "It doesn't matter to me. I would have done the same…anything done is forgiven. I love you." He moved his hand through her hair, pulling her down to his lips. She took comfort in the embrace and the emotion that passed between them, something unknown to most. He felt her cringe as he ran his fingers over her arm. "You're hurt." He pulled away slightly tracing the bruises on her jaw.

"I'll be alright, it will heal."

"May I?" The words…everything…just like their first encounter in the cabin days ago, when he had asked to cure her broken rib. Everything seemed to be repeating itself in some strange ironic circle. And again, just like that snow-filled night they shared, she gave him permission. He laid his hands upon her and softly uttered the words to heal her…but nothing happened.

She tilted her head slightly shocked that he was unable to use a simple cure spell. "Squall, are you sure you're feeling all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He couldn't figure out why the spell wasn't working or his sudden inability to cast magic.

If for one second, any of them had put the pieces together. If for one second, they would have logically thought about magical backfire. If for one second, they had not let their emotions control their actions. If for one second, they had thought that someone had re-activated the anti-magic barrier, from within that very room. But in their haste, they forgot the most basic of battle objectives…

Make sure your enemy is truly down.

In all their warnings, all their visions, everything leading up to this day…they already knew the outcome. Fate cannot be changed, only the clues leading up to it could be discovered. The answer always remained the same, no matter how many times they had dreamed it to be different.

If for one second, any of them had seen Mitchell holding up the replica of Lionheart, before he used his last breaths of life…

If for one second, they could have warned Rinoa…

If for just one second…