Chapter Two:

It was certainly a refreshing treat, especially on a hot and humid afternoon. The sparkled beads rolled soothingly from his high chiseled cheekbones while some dripped at his lips and stubborn jaw as the rest made a wet trail along the sinewy length of his neck. As the droplets glistened on his sun-kissed skin, the breeze fanned against him, leaving a cool feeling. He dipped his hands under the running stream once again and splashed more water against his face. It was a face of which everyone would agree that resembled a demi-god. Although the water was a bit refreshing, it was almost as warm as the weather. The young man reached a hand to the side of his neck while he rubbed and rolled his head from side to side to ease the tension that has been forming from his nape. It was ineffective and so the stiffness remained. He slackenly sat on his haunches while his elbows rested atop his bent knees, letting his lengthy arms dangle. It sure is incredibly hot today.

A strong gust wafted by, causing the tree leaves above him to dance with the sunlight and the shadows to play across his features. The deep-set eyes of green jaded steel stared intently at the waters before him. Furrowed brows and unblinking, he slowly lifted his golden head and smiled at the skies. He does that often these days. He was either praying to the heavens above for answers or he was silently speaking to himself. It took him a while to rise to his full height of six feet two, and gathered his things. Seifer studied the play of sunlight on his gunblade, the ever trusty Hyperion, before sheathing it back to its scabbard. It has been too damn long since he had last drawn it. He resumed his trek towards the train station while cursing at the blasted heat and for the bloody railroads that should have been built a little closer.

While marching towards the station, he distracted himself into thinking that being nomadic had taken its toll. This time, realizing that he's not getting any younger, he decided to finally perch himself on staying at one place where he could see himself buried. Come to think of it, a man such as he would likely drive himself into an early grave that he shoveled for himself. He grinned at the thought of what his most probable cause of his demise. Boredom would kill him soon enough, if not this blasted heat. Even his Hyperion is rusting with boredom.

He had lived in many different places yet, he couldn't really name any of them as home. Although he must admit that Balamb held a sense of belonging, there really weren't anything there to amuse him. As soon as boredom struck him, he moved onto Dollet and settled there for at least a year. It was a nice place where he can gamble and fish at the same time, but as always, there were certain things he found to his distaste. The only females Dollet carried were either toothless or still in grade school. It had come at an inopportune time when he needed a satisfaction of a certain urge. So he upped and left for the next town where he believed held more verve and vivacity. So in Timber, where he gambled, he whored, and painted the town in the deepest shade of red he could imagine, and where he thought he could finally establish himself. But after three years, the fun later grew old and tiresome. The men at the poker table was no more of a challenge, the whore house carried the same harlots and all began to look alike, and the pub played the same music and served the same people. Inconstancy drove him on to Winhill, a place he didn't know existed before. He only knew about it from an old bugger that lived beside the train station, and he was right, the only way to get there was to walk. And so he did. It was long but he did walk to a new town where he hoped to find a nice quiet living. But he found it too damn quiet and he only lasted in Winhill for a year. The town nearly killed him with dullness It's a place where everybody knows everybody and the latest excitement they'd had was a newborn cow. A cow for god's sake!

Not so early this morning, he packed his meager belongings and left for a new living placement. Wherever might catch his fancy will do for now. What could possibly await him there, he's not sure, and damn it if he gives a rat's ass. He's running out of gil he'd recently won from the gaming tables and once consumed, soon, he'll be forced to steal or worse. He might have to sell Hyperion, which he had occasionally waged at the gambling table, but then a repulsive image of him flipping burgers came into view. He really had to shudder at that. Too proud and self-dignified to put himself in such a debasing subsistence, he snorted. Although a resume containing gun-blade expertise and mercenary experience would undoubtedly impress employers, if not frighten some, he still couldn't escape the criminal record that would simply deny him an opportunity.

The thin cotton shirt he wore clung to him as if it were a second skin. His sweat continuously drenched him from drastic heat. He should be near the stupid station by now given that he's been walking for hours. There should be a blasted pot of gold at that train station. Oh, what he wouldn't give for a cold beer right now. And probably a cold shower too. He cursed at the world why it had to choose today to be in its hottest day when he had to travel.

Just as he was beginning to lose hope for a station that wouldn't come into scene, he heard the unmistakable roar of an engine coming to a halt. He smiled as his luck would allow him that he chanced on a ready train and half ran to catch it before it departs to wherever it leads. His able legs stretched for the station while balancing his bag over his shoulders. This is a good exercise. I should have a nice tan by now.

No sooner he arrived at the ticket booth and discovered that the assumed train was bound for Deling City. Now there's a place with changing faces of urban society. A metropolitan atmosphere has absolutely no comparison to measly confining gutter-towns he had been. Why, he just might find himself a nice, wealthy heiress he can marry while he's down there. A terribly easy way of becoming rich simply because of a face both wanted and envied by any art masterpiece. In a world such as this, it is better to be beautiful than to be good, but if one is already cursed with an ugly stick, being good makes up for the tragedy. He chuckled at his silent mirth.

After the tickets have been paid for, he led himself to a seat beside the window. Thankfully, there weren't many passengers and he was free to put his feet up or sprawl about in the seat if he wanted to. The engine began minutes later and the train had finally set into motion over the tracks. It proved to be a long and aching railroad trip, but he was at least thankful for the shade it offered from the furious sun and what little rest he could get. Seifer succumbed to the heat and fatigue as his lids slowly covered his eyes. He let sleep take over and soon, he was dreaming about things he could have been and still could be.

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There really was no end to this horrible job. Official procedures they say, ha! Stacks after stacks of SeeD evaluation papers, lesson and field exam plans, research projects, followed by new student transfer records seemed to pile up every five minutes. Don't they have computers to do these things? Looking at the cluttered desk, obviously not. The gods must posses a very dry, if not sick humor to have her desk bound. Besides the fact that it was extremely hot today, her air conditioner in her room chose the perfect time to malfunction and drove her to work in the library. If she could list her complaints of what has gone wrong today, she could write a sonnet, but if she has to begin since her birth, it would be her autobiography. Submitting herself in defeat against the mind-numbing paperwork, she threw a pen across the room in frustration. Making sure there were not anyone around to witness that display of irritation, she made a furtive glance around the room before yielding to the urge to curse at her distress.

"Somebody up there is certainly mad at me." She was either referring to the gods' heavens or to the administrators' offices just a floor above hers. There was no way she can make it to the deadline then teach the next day without passing out. The field exams are all happening at the same time, SeeD graduates are determined every hour, and she's getting paper-cuts all over her hands, and she could imagine her eyeball must be the only place without a paper-cut.

Might as well extend the deadline and resume some other time. She cleared the table of her mess and neatly filed them in order. Then a squared envelope slipped between the folders, which caught her attention. The wedding invitation plainly rubs her unattached state into her face. It's as if it pops into view just to remind her she's single, with no date and wouldn't likely to find one to marry. So everyone's getting married these days, big deal! In ten years time, she'll be a bookbinding spinster. Dismissing the depressing horrible prediction, she leaned down plucking the envelope off the carpet and withdrew the well-crafted card, to once again absorb the wonderful news.

Two hearts, one love

Two minds, one soul

Ellone Loire

And

Vedic Caraway

Request the honor of your presence

On Saturday, the twenty-seventh of August

At three-o'clock in the afternoon in

Deling City Mansion, which will be graciously hosted by

General Caraway and President Laguna Loire

She had never expected a match between dear Sis and Rinoa's cousin, but she was glad nonetheless for Ellone to find herself a worthy partner. As unexpected comes, she glanced back at the said date. She had to gasp. Twenty-seventh of August? Today is the twenty-seventh of August! Today is the wedding! What was she thinking? No doubt that this will go down on her complaint list.

"Holy crap! Today is the wedding!" Her exclamation reverberated within the library, which caused a few heads to snap up. She scrambled to collect her things while furiously chastising herself for being such an absentminded nimrod. Having no idea why she still bothers to collect the wretched paperwork, it should all be burned for causing her to neglect an important event. Before she could exit the library, a frantic, yet glamorously dressed Selphie met her and carrying what appeared to be the dress Quistis is supposed to wear for the occasion.

"I found her!" Selphie yelled behind her shoulders, apparently to her fellow searchers whom she could only guess were dressed and ready too. "Quistis! We're leaving for Deling in five minutes!"

"But, I'm not ready." She rummaged through her brain for any excuses she might pull so she won't have to attend the ceremony. Besides, single women tend to get depressed on weddings. "You all should go on ahead, I don't want to hold anybody up."

"Oh no! You are coming even if I have to do your hair and make-up here in the library." Selphie advanced on her with a mission in mind.

With a defeated groan, she was now sure that somebody up there is absolutely against her.

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AN: I'm sorry I had to redo this part. I didn't like how I had written Seifer before because I thought he was too melodramatic for his character. Maybe I thought I could re-write him, just as Square had really wanted to show him as; volatile and irrepressible. Quistis on the other hand, I wanted to present with a "cool exterior" when she'd spoken to Ty, "difficulty coping with frustration", when overloaded with work, and "depressed over trivial matters" whenlater on at the wedding. So stay tuned. Feel free to flame.