"This is the last song
My eyes are open wonder to this
As you hold the secrets
I count the minutes off so perfectly
The chards of broken glass
Sing the strains of a sad old tune..."
--The Smashing Pumpkins
For When You Return Part XVII
The messenger-boy was just that -- a child that was no older than fifteen. His cheeks were flushed as if he were a runner of ancient lore and not someone who had traveled effortlessly by train and by car. His shoulders huffed exhaustedly until he remembered where he was, but when he straightened them he looked just as anxious and terrified as before.
"Repeat it again," Quistis said. It was almost amazing, how quickly she had flipped from soft and comforting to firm and upright. Her demeanor was cold, calculating, and businesslike. Zell managed to meet the boy's eyes and offered him a tight-lipped little smile of reassurance. It didn't seem to help much, but the child did swallow a little and took a shaking breath to say once more,
"I-I'm an apprentice to an electrician in Esthar." Exhale, exhale. Selphie and Irvine exchanged a brief glance from where they were planted side by side on the wall in the headmaster's office, and Rinoa stood rigidly next to Xu and Nida. Cid had traveled out to the orphanage after the night of the party, but was in the process of returning to Garden due to the situation. It didn't matter, however -- Quistis was now headmaster, and acted accordingly. Arms crossed, she listened to the story that she had already heard once with the same amount of--if not more--attention.
"I was working on one of the transports underground -- the system isn't just above the surface, a lot of cables go down to use energy from the generators. A lot of them aren't in use now, since the visibility cloak has been disengaged. That causes a lot of problems, believe it or not. We just aren't made to work without them; they've always been there. Shutting them down affects other things sometimes."
Quistis was letting him talk, but it looked as if she were cutting close to urging him to go on. The boy swallowed again, and nervously went on.
"We were down there trying to patch that transport back into our energy source. There were about six of us -- not many. We were just wrapping it up when a soldier came down and asked us if we were finished yet. I thought it was strange that a guard from the street would come down to check on us, but I didn't think much more of it... I mean, he was a city officer. Why shouldn't anyone have trusted him, right?"
Zell's lips turned white, and he straightened a little from where he was leaning against the headmaster's desk. His blue eyes shifted from Rinoa to Irvine and Selphie, and then with a stiff little shift of his mouth he returned his gaze to the boy.
"When he opened fire, I didn't quite realize it for a moment. I thought it was one of the generators, maybe we had made a mistake and it was melting down. That wasn't the case, though -- we were being -shot- at. I saw three of us go down, and then Lue--my instructor-- was pushing me out of the way. We were trapped, but there was a ventilation grate set in the back to make the place less concentrated, just in case there's a fire or something down there. I managed to get back to the surface through it."
He took another shaky breath, as if talking had stolen it from him.
"Everything was fine on the surface, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Everyone milled about... but the guards. There were so many guards. I tried to get to the Palace and President Loire, but the soldier there wouldn't let me see him... There was something strange in how he was looking at me, and I started to panic. I didn't know what to do, or where to go... I mean, what if -all- of the guards were...? Or... And even if not, I didn't know how to pick one from another. I was afraid that the man who came down after us would be after me... so I left."
"And even -that- was hard. The soldier at the gate asked a lot of questions -- why was I leaving, who I was, what business I had. I knew that something was wrong with this... Eventually, I simply hid and waited for him to get distracted, and then snuck out."
"So I came here. I didn't know where else to go."
"You made the right decision," Xu said. The boy didn't look very relieved.
"And," Nida added, "There have been rumors of Galbadian forces gathering. This is the most that they've moved since the end of the war... and it looks as if they're heading towards Estar. It's clearly an attack..."
"But why?" Selphie asked. "I mean, they already screwed up royally with the whole sorceress thing? If I were them, I'd be hiding in a hole until the next century! They aren't dumb enough to do anything..." She squished up her face for a moment. "-Dumb- again... are they?"
"Attacking?" Rinoa said. Her voice shredded. "But Odine -- what about Odine? We need to see him, if something happens, then--" The breathiness that was eating at her words border-lined hysterics, although she twisted away when Xu offered a hand to her shoulder. "Then we can't do anything at all, Squall, he--"
"We shouldn't jump to any conclusions," Quistis started.
"What? Are you saying that we should just -sit- back?!" Zell exclaimed. "That's insane!"
"This is coming from the guy who drags his team into A Pit of Doom for fun," Irvine said, his tone low and dry.
"That's -Instructor- Drags-His-Team-Into-A-Pit-of-Doom-For-Fun to you," Zell retorted snidely. Selphie's lips upturned a little at that, but it didn't help the fact that Zell was dampened. Stiffly, he shot a glare in Irvine's direction, crossed his arms, and set his back against the desk edge again with a stiff and quiet jaw.
Irvine returned his eyes to Quistis. They exchanged a glance, and then the blonde woman looked over at Nida, who straightened immediately.
"You've tried communicating directly with them?" she asked.
"I--" Nida started. "I'm not quite sure how I'd..."
"It's complicated," Xu added.
"You'd need a direct connection," The boy said. "The system is too new -- someone in Estar would have to match your frequency, and could only communicate in five minute increments. It takes a few hours to recharge."
"We don't need to -communicate-," Rinoa said sharply. "We need to -go- over there and -get- Odine as quickly as possible."
Quistis lifted a few fingers up to Rinoa, silently gesturing for the woman to be patient. Rinoa set her teeth and stood stiffly, although she silently listened to what the acting headmaster had to say.
"We don't know enough right now. And, even if we did, we are in no position to put up a defense, not yet. We need to understand what is going on, and we need to establish a connection. If Laguna is safe, we need to talk to him."
"And Odine," Selphie said for Rinoa's benefit.
Quistis nodded dismissively and went on. "I think that we should send out a small team of scouts. They can patch a connection and let us know what is going on in Esthar." She felt a sudden urge to bite at her longest fingernail; it took a great deal of effort to keep her arms down. She was a leader. She had to act like it... this wasn't a small decision. This wasn't a small affair.
And Squall...
"They will also fetch Odine and bring him back here." She said. "We need to also make contact with Laguna -- hopefully we will get the communication system in order so that we can do that... But I don't think we should do anything more beyond this, not yet. I think that this is a safe idea. I don't want to act any more until I'm sure of the situation."
Xu nodded her agreement.
"Okay then," Irvine said. "Who goes?"
"I want to--" Rinoa started, just as Quistis was replying, "You and Zell," Both women shifted, started, and exchanged glances behind Zell's disgusted blanch of horror under the prospect of working with Irvine. Rinoa was the first to recover, and she then said even more boldly:
"Let me go. I was just in Esthar. I've seen where the tower is."
"A tower isn't hard to spot," Xu said. She was met with a glare.
Quistis was going to say the same thing, but after noting the exchange she chose her words more carefully. "Rinoa, I think that you should stay here-- " Rinoa's eyes shot defiantly in her direction, but Quistis kept herself talking, smooth and steady. "I do not doubt your ability. You know that -- I've fought by your side. However, whatever happened with Squall happened -here.- I think, just in case something new comes up, that you shouldn't stray too far."
Rinoa set her jaw. It was obvious that she had no trust in Quistis' intentions.
Quistis saw this and shifted her lips a little in something between a purse and a frown. "If something happens with Squall, I think that you should be here."
"How?" Rinoa asked flatly. "How would that help?"
"Do you remember the Lunar Base?" Quistis asked.
This was supposed to be a rhetorical question. However, Quistis was surprised to see a strained, painful look shift on to Rinoa's face, and then a light mist of tears. That stony front had lifted a little, only to reveal a frightened and painfully mystified young woman.
"It's... It's foggy... Quistis... I..."
The Time of the Sixth World// Two Eternities Before Present Day
When Squall closed his eyes, he caught the fleeting image of a shooting star.
"The first thing you've gotta do is loose the threads, Scarface."
Squall, torn back into reality, felt the insides of his mouth draw in tightly, and he tried to resist an angry grimace. As always, he was the picture of stoicism, a moving stone statue. However, something about the jouncing, happy-go lucky man at just a slight angle in front of him threw Squall off-guard. It wasn't that he didn't like the guy, it was more a matter of not being able to understand him. That was just as frustrating as it was annoying. Greiver? Was it a coincidence? And if it weren't, who in the hell was -this-? This was some lanky guy with a haphazard smile and the fleeting, absentminded nature of a rouge. There wasn't anything to him.
The forest was thick, and didn't seem to ever end. This was nothing like Squall had expereinced before -- it was too livid of a terrian to be anywhere -near- Balamb, Squall knew the area enough to know full well that this was nothing that he'd ever seen before. Foilage hung ominously overhead, making the late afternoon seem more like evening in its shadow. The branches and brambles that Greiver's shortsword's missed (and there were times when Squall wondered if this was fully intentional, for the man's amusement) tugged at Squall's ratty pleather jacket, and he could only push them aside as he plugged ahead and was scratched.
"Why?" He finally asked.
"Why find a change of clothes?" Greiver asked, setting his foot atop of a fallen log and posing there in a small dab of sunlight as if he were ready for a portrait. A hand went on his hip, and his sword glistened at his side. "Because you look you fell from a different world, that's why! Idiot! You know why those guys attacked you, don't you? It wasn't simply something you just -said- to offend them, although I can't exactly call you 'pleasant' in your defense, either."
Squall too stopped and stood at a short distance from the man, looking eye- to-eye and setting his own hands onto his hips, letting out a little huff that somehow managed to not change his expression. "Whatever." He said.
"Whatever," Greiver repeated, looking just as unphased, although that charming, casual sparkle didn't ever leave his face. He seemed amused. "You're quite a strange fellow, indeed," A little pause, for quirky drama and emphasis. "Indeed."
Squall was going to push out another one of his trademark one-word answers, despite the fact that he had been trying to wean himself from such behavior. However, as he glared at the strange long-haired man in front of him, he caught a glint on the man's chest. For a moment, his mind cleared, and he tipped his head a little in stony curiosity. It was a necklace, a simple tear-shaped stone, jagged and hued like a quartz crystal. It was set into a tiny column of stone, as if it had simply been chipped from a wall, and was bound to his neck by a thin leather cord. As a whole, the thing was about the width and half the length of a woman's smallest finger.
Griever followed the man's gaze and looked down. His fingertips touched the necklace for a moment, and then he was struck with the urge to pull his shirt flaps over it -- but he held himself back and simply asked, "Yes?"
"That necklace," Squall said slowly. There was something special about it, not in appearance, but something more. Something that he could feel. And Squall, without hardly even knowing it, felt his hands go onto the lion pendant that lie against his t-shirted chest. His body suddenly felt very quiet, and he stared wordlessly for a moment, until Greiver harshly broke it up.
"Oh, you have -got- to be kidding!" He exclaimed. "This?" He pointed a slender finger at his pendant, and then gestured toward Squall, and then threw his arms around his stomach in a doubled-over laugh. "Oh, heavens and stars, that is... Oh-ho! Hoo, let me breathe..."
"...You think," said Greiver when he sated. "That simply because -you've- got a necklace that you named Greiver--although why you'd even -name- something like that is beyond me!--I'm going to have, by puuure coincidence," He wriggled his fingers for emphasis there. "One named Scarface or something? Could you possibly be serious!"
"It's Squall." Squall corrected, feeling a little foolish and cold. "My -name- is Squall."
And then, suddenly, everything got quiet.
"Oh..." Greiver said, and he fell slowly into the hush. His eyes grew wide and then he narrowed them, peering at Squall with a slightly bewildered gaze. He clenched his necklace tightly in his fist, and with a peer he let out a long, shocked breath. "I... It doesn't make sense... Squall? Is that really your name... how did you know that I...."
Squall felt his heart stop, his breath suddenly went chilled. "You mean, you did--"
"No, you idiot!" Greiver snapped. "We don't name necklaces here! We don't name swords, we don't name armor, and we certianly don't go around acting like two guys that are both wearing things around their necks are soulmates!" He seemed very intense for a moment, and then let out an easing huff... although that firmness didn't remain. "Now, I suggest that you don't talk like that around here -- you're lucky that I'm not as superstitious as the rest. People who name things suggest people who believe that things have -souls-. They don't."
"Well, we don't know that..." Squall said.
"So, what, your great uncle's spirit is trapped in your boot, is it?" Griever retorted.
"No," Squall said. For a moment, he wasn't frustrated but scared yet again. What was this? What was this strange man getting at? Why, all of a sudden, did he seem so cold? "It's not like that -- it's magic, the guardian forces."
At Squall's words, Griever dropped his leg and stood straight. His chest and shoulders lowered as he breathed down, slow and steady, and set a firm gaze into the face of the man across from him. His voice became very, very flat. "Guardian forces. Like that Griever that you were getting all loop- dee-doo about."
"...Yes."
"Look at me, Scarface." Griever opened his arms a little. And, indeed, he didn't really need to say more, although he did. "Just look." His lanky frame, his pale skin, his slightly unraveling braid, his tattered clothes. This wasn't just a mere man -- this was almost the lowest that a man could get. "We're all like this here, and if you..."
"But I'm not talking about humans," Squall interupted. "Look, I'll show you- -"
"You listen!" Greiver exclaimed. There was a power so great in his voice that it almost seemed to slap Squall across the face. And, indeed, Squall fell back a little. The man had shedded all of his good cheer, and the amusement was gone from his eyes -- there was only intensity, anger, and... yes... a little fear.
"You listen," Griever hissed, "And you listen -good-. I don't know where -you- come from, but this is not a place where the supernatural is well accepted, you understand? Nobody, and I mean -nobody- has the patience that I'm foolishly giving you, and if you talk like that again, you will be killed. And there's nothing that I could do to save you."
Griever stepped back, and showed no empathy to Squall's shocked expression.
A breeze ruffled coldly in the foilage above, and the leaves crackled like whispering spirits. Suddenly, the approaching night seemed to make everything a little darker.
"They sometimes burn people that talk like you. Most of the time, though, they do a lot worse."
End Part 17/? To Be Continued.
My eyes are open wonder to this
As you hold the secrets
I count the minutes off so perfectly
The chards of broken glass
Sing the strains of a sad old tune..."
--The Smashing Pumpkins
For When You Return Part XVII
The messenger-boy was just that -- a child that was no older than fifteen. His cheeks were flushed as if he were a runner of ancient lore and not someone who had traveled effortlessly by train and by car. His shoulders huffed exhaustedly until he remembered where he was, but when he straightened them he looked just as anxious and terrified as before.
"Repeat it again," Quistis said. It was almost amazing, how quickly she had flipped from soft and comforting to firm and upright. Her demeanor was cold, calculating, and businesslike. Zell managed to meet the boy's eyes and offered him a tight-lipped little smile of reassurance. It didn't seem to help much, but the child did swallow a little and took a shaking breath to say once more,
"I-I'm an apprentice to an electrician in Esthar." Exhale, exhale. Selphie and Irvine exchanged a brief glance from where they were planted side by side on the wall in the headmaster's office, and Rinoa stood rigidly next to Xu and Nida. Cid had traveled out to the orphanage after the night of the party, but was in the process of returning to Garden due to the situation. It didn't matter, however -- Quistis was now headmaster, and acted accordingly. Arms crossed, she listened to the story that she had already heard once with the same amount of--if not more--attention.
"I was working on one of the transports underground -- the system isn't just above the surface, a lot of cables go down to use energy from the generators. A lot of them aren't in use now, since the visibility cloak has been disengaged. That causes a lot of problems, believe it or not. We just aren't made to work without them; they've always been there. Shutting them down affects other things sometimes."
Quistis was letting him talk, but it looked as if she were cutting close to urging him to go on. The boy swallowed again, and nervously went on.
"We were down there trying to patch that transport back into our energy source. There were about six of us -- not many. We were just wrapping it up when a soldier came down and asked us if we were finished yet. I thought it was strange that a guard from the street would come down to check on us, but I didn't think much more of it... I mean, he was a city officer. Why shouldn't anyone have trusted him, right?"
Zell's lips turned white, and he straightened a little from where he was leaning against the headmaster's desk. His blue eyes shifted from Rinoa to Irvine and Selphie, and then with a stiff little shift of his mouth he returned his gaze to the boy.
"When he opened fire, I didn't quite realize it for a moment. I thought it was one of the generators, maybe we had made a mistake and it was melting down. That wasn't the case, though -- we were being -shot- at. I saw three of us go down, and then Lue--my instructor-- was pushing me out of the way. We were trapped, but there was a ventilation grate set in the back to make the place less concentrated, just in case there's a fire or something down there. I managed to get back to the surface through it."
He took another shaky breath, as if talking had stolen it from him.
"Everything was fine on the surface, it was as if nothing had ever happened. Everyone milled about... but the guards. There were so many guards. I tried to get to the Palace and President Loire, but the soldier there wouldn't let me see him... There was something strange in how he was looking at me, and I started to panic. I didn't know what to do, or where to go... I mean, what if -all- of the guards were...? Or... And even if not, I didn't know how to pick one from another. I was afraid that the man who came down after us would be after me... so I left."
"And even -that- was hard. The soldier at the gate asked a lot of questions -- why was I leaving, who I was, what business I had. I knew that something was wrong with this... Eventually, I simply hid and waited for him to get distracted, and then snuck out."
"So I came here. I didn't know where else to go."
"You made the right decision," Xu said. The boy didn't look very relieved.
"And," Nida added, "There have been rumors of Galbadian forces gathering. This is the most that they've moved since the end of the war... and it looks as if they're heading towards Estar. It's clearly an attack..."
"But why?" Selphie asked. "I mean, they already screwed up royally with the whole sorceress thing? If I were them, I'd be hiding in a hole until the next century! They aren't dumb enough to do anything..." She squished up her face for a moment. "-Dumb- again... are they?"
"Attacking?" Rinoa said. Her voice shredded. "But Odine -- what about Odine? We need to see him, if something happens, then--" The breathiness that was eating at her words border-lined hysterics, although she twisted away when Xu offered a hand to her shoulder. "Then we can't do anything at all, Squall, he--"
"We shouldn't jump to any conclusions," Quistis started.
"What? Are you saying that we should just -sit- back?!" Zell exclaimed. "That's insane!"
"This is coming from the guy who drags his team into A Pit of Doom for fun," Irvine said, his tone low and dry.
"That's -Instructor- Drags-His-Team-Into-A-Pit-of-Doom-For-Fun to you," Zell retorted snidely. Selphie's lips upturned a little at that, but it didn't help the fact that Zell was dampened. Stiffly, he shot a glare in Irvine's direction, crossed his arms, and set his back against the desk edge again with a stiff and quiet jaw.
Irvine returned his eyes to Quistis. They exchanged a glance, and then the blonde woman looked over at Nida, who straightened immediately.
"You've tried communicating directly with them?" she asked.
"I--" Nida started. "I'm not quite sure how I'd..."
"It's complicated," Xu added.
"You'd need a direct connection," The boy said. "The system is too new -- someone in Estar would have to match your frequency, and could only communicate in five minute increments. It takes a few hours to recharge."
"We don't need to -communicate-," Rinoa said sharply. "We need to -go- over there and -get- Odine as quickly as possible."
Quistis lifted a few fingers up to Rinoa, silently gesturing for the woman to be patient. Rinoa set her teeth and stood stiffly, although she silently listened to what the acting headmaster had to say.
"We don't know enough right now. And, even if we did, we are in no position to put up a defense, not yet. We need to understand what is going on, and we need to establish a connection. If Laguna is safe, we need to talk to him."
"And Odine," Selphie said for Rinoa's benefit.
Quistis nodded dismissively and went on. "I think that we should send out a small team of scouts. They can patch a connection and let us know what is going on in Esthar." She felt a sudden urge to bite at her longest fingernail; it took a great deal of effort to keep her arms down. She was a leader. She had to act like it... this wasn't a small decision. This wasn't a small affair.
And Squall...
"They will also fetch Odine and bring him back here." She said. "We need to also make contact with Laguna -- hopefully we will get the communication system in order so that we can do that... But I don't think we should do anything more beyond this, not yet. I think that this is a safe idea. I don't want to act any more until I'm sure of the situation."
Xu nodded her agreement.
"Okay then," Irvine said. "Who goes?"
"I want to--" Rinoa started, just as Quistis was replying, "You and Zell," Both women shifted, started, and exchanged glances behind Zell's disgusted blanch of horror under the prospect of working with Irvine. Rinoa was the first to recover, and she then said even more boldly:
"Let me go. I was just in Esthar. I've seen where the tower is."
"A tower isn't hard to spot," Xu said. She was met with a glare.
Quistis was going to say the same thing, but after noting the exchange she chose her words more carefully. "Rinoa, I think that you should stay here-- " Rinoa's eyes shot defiantly in her direction, but Quistis kept herself talking, smooth and steady. "I do not doubt your ability. You know that -- I've fought by your side. However, whatever happened with Squall happened -here.- I think, just in case something new comes up, that you shouldn't stray too far."
Rinoa set her jaw. It was obvious that she had no trust in Quistis' intentions.
Quistis saw this and shifted her lips a little in something between a purse and a frown. "If something happens with Squall, I think that you should be here."
"How?" Rinoa asked flatly. "How would that help?"
"Do you remember the Lunar Base?" Quistis asked.
This was supposed to be a rhetorical question. However, Quistis was surprised to see a strained, painful look shift on to Rinoa's face, and then a light mist of tears. That stony front had lifted a little, only to reveal a frightened and painfully mystified young woman.
"It's... It's foggy... Quistis... I..."
The Time of the Sixth World// Two Eternities Before Present Day
When Squall closed his eyes, he caught the fleeting image of a shooting star.
"The first thing you've gotta do is loose the threads, Scarface."
Squall, torn back into reality, felt the insides of his mouth draw in tightly, and he tried to resist an angry grimace. As always, he was the picture of stoicism, a moving stone statue. However, something about the jouncing, happy-go lucky man at just a slight angle in front of him threw Squall off-guard. It wasn't that he didn't like the guy, it was more a matter of not being able to understand him. That was just as frustrating as it was annoying. Greiver? Was it a coincidence? And if it weren't, who in the hell was -this-? This was some lanky guy with a haphazard smile and the fleeting, absentminded nature of a rouge. There wasn't anything to him.
The forest was thick, and didn't seem to ever end. This was nothing like Squall had expereinced before -- it was too livid of a terrian to be anywhere -near- Balamb, Squall knew the area enough to know full well that this was nothing that he'd ever seen before. Foilage hung ominously overhead, making the late afternoon seem more like evening in its shadow. The branches and brambles that Greiver's shortsword's missed (and there were times when Squall wondered if this was fully intentional, for the man's amusement) tugged at Squall's ratty pleather jacket, and he could only push them aside as he plugged ahead and was scratched.
"Why?" He finally asked.
"Why find a change of clothes?" Greiver asked, setting his foot atop of a fallen log and posing there in a small dab of sunlight as if he were ready for a portrait. A hand went on his hip, and his sword glistened at his side. "Because you look you fell from a different world, that's why! Idiot! You know why those guys attacked you, don't you? It wasn't simply something you just -said- to offend them, although I can't exactly call you 'pleasant' in your defense, either."
Squall too stopped and stood at a short distance from the man, looking eye- to-eye and setting his own hands onto his hips, letting out a little huff that somehow managed to not change his expression. "Whatever." He said.
"Whatever," Greiver repeated, looking just as unphased, although that charming, casual sparkle didn't ever leave his face. He seemed amused. "You're quite a strange fellow, indeed," A little pause, for quirky drama and emphasis. "Indeed."
Squall was going to push out another one of his trademark one-word answers, despite the fact that he had been trying to wean himself from such behavior. However, as he glared at the strange long-haired man in front of him, he caught a glint on the man's chest. For a moment, his mind cleared, and he tipped his head a little in stony curiosity. It was a necklace, a simple tear-shaped stone, jagged and hued like a quartz crystal. It was set into a tiny column of stone, as if it had simply been chipped from a wall, and was bound to his neck by a thin leather cord. As a whole, the thing was about the width and half the length of a woman's smallest finger.
Griever followed the man's gaze and looked down. His fingertips touched the necklace for a moment, and then he was struck with the urge to pull his shirt flaps over it -- but he held himself back and simply asked, "Yes?"
"That necklace," Squall said slowly. There was something special about it, not in appearance, but something more. Something that he could feel. And Squall, without hardly even knowing it, felt his hands go onto the lion pendant that lie against his t-shirted chest. His body suddenly felt very quiet, and he stared wordlessly for a moment, until Greiver harshly broke it up.
"Oh, you have -got- to be kidding!" He exclaimed. "This?" He pointed a slender finger at his pendant, and then gestured toward Squall, and then threw his arms around his stomach in a doubled-over laugh. "Oh, heavens and stars, that is... Oh-ho! Hoo, let me breathe..."
"...You think," said Greiver when he sated. "That simply because -you've- got a necklace that you named Greiver--although why you'd even -name- something like that is beyond me!--I'm going to have, by puuure coincidence," He wriggled his fingers for emphasis there. "One named Scarface or something? Could you possibly be serious!"
"It's Squall." Squall corrected, feeling a little foolish and cold. "My -name- is Squall."
And then, suddenly, everything got quiet.
"Oh..." Greiver said, and he fell slowly into the hush. His eyes grew wide and then he narrowed them, peering at Squall with a slightly bewildered gaze. He clenched his necklace tightly in his fist, and with a peer he let out a long, shocked breath. "I... It doesn't make sense... Squall? Is that really your name... how did you know that I...."
Squall felt his heart stop, his breath suddenly went chilled. "You mean, you did--"
"No, you idiot!" Greiver snapped. "We don't name necklaces here! We don't name swords, we don't name armor, and we certianly don't go around acting like two guys that are both wearing things around their necks are soulmates!" He seemed very intense for a moment, and then let out an easing huff... although that firmness didn't remain. "Now, I suggest that you don't talk like that around here -- you're lucky that I'm not as superstitious as the rest. People who name things suggest people who believe that things have -souls-. They don't."
"Well, we don't know that..." Squall said.
"So, what, your great uncle's spirit is trapped in your boot, is it?" Griever retorted.
"No," Squall said. For a moment, he wasn't frustrated but scared yet again. What was this? What was this strange man getting at? Why, all of a sudden, did he seem so cold? "It's not like that -- it's magic, the guardian forces."
At Squall's words, Griever dropped his leg and stood straight. His chest and shoulders lowered as he breathed down, slow and steady, and set a firm gaze into the face of the man across from him. His voice became very, very flat. "Guardian forces. Like that Griever that you were getting all loop- dee-doo about."
"...Yes."
"Look at me, Scarface." Griever opened his arms a little. And, indeed, he didn't really need to say more, although he did. "Just look." His lanky frame, his pale skin, his slightly unraveling braid, his tattered clothes. This wasn't just a mere man -- this was almost the lowest that a man could get. "We're all like this here, and if you..."
"But I'm not talking about humans," Squall interupted. "Look, I'll show you- -"
"You listen!" Greiver exclaimed. There was a power so great in his voice that it almost seemed to slap Squall across the face. And, indeed, Squall fell back a little. The man had shedded all of his good cheer, and the amusement was gone from his eyes -- there was only intensity, anger, and... yes... a little fear.
"You listen," Griever hissed, "And you listen -good-. I don't know where -you- come from, but this is not a place where the supernatural is well accepted, you understand? Nobody, and I mean -nobody- has the patience that I'm foolishly giving you, and if you talk like that again, you will be killed. And there's nothing that I could do to save you."
Griever stepped back, and showed no empathy to Squall's shocked expression.
A breeze ruffled coldly in the foilage above, and the leaves crackled like whispering spirits. Suddenly, the approaching night seemed to make everything a little darker.
"They sometimes burn people that talk like you. Most of the time, though, they do a lot worse."
End Part 17/? To Be Continued.