Chapter 4:
Fidelitas
Balamb Garden Headmaster, Cid Kramer sat in the noisy hold of the marine landing craft, leaning forward, chin resting on hands. Though he was happy with the results of the peace talks, and though he was looking forward to his return to the garden—to seeing Edea again—a frown creased his features. He resisted the urge to get up and pace about the small cabin. The edge of a wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He still felt it, felt the invisible touch of spider webs around his mind, tugging him back; back to the garden, back to her side. He had resisted the urge—as per his sorceress's orders—for so many years… but the feeling never lessened, one never became used to it. He imagined—had anyone been present—the same look he had seen in Squall's eyes—in his own eyes in the mirror—would be manifesting itself now. He sighed. I've learned to live with it, when will he?
He hadn't been surprised when he had heard the booted footfalls of the gunblade specialist and the knock at the door of his room in the Extrêmement Coûteux. He had known why Squall had come.
"Sir, the Timber delegation is back aboard their vessel. I believe my mission is complete." Squall had hardly even taken a breath before continuing. "Headmaster Kramer, I am requesting permission for a leave of absence from the garden."
Cid had, of course, understood why, even before Squall spoke. "Rinoa's not returning to Balamb." It had not been a question.
"No, Sir." Squall had said.
Perhaps it had been inevitable, Cid reflected. It had certainly seemed so at the time. "Squall, I'm afraid something has come up. I can't grant you a leave right now." Cid had said, following the script he knew had to be played out. "Permission denied. You and your squad are ordered to return to Balamb Garden as additional escort to our negotiations team."
Cid could've spoken the words with Squall. "Then…" Squall had sighed. "…I hereby resign my commission as a SeeD officer. You'll find all my accounts in order." Squall's hand had hesitated only a second before unfastening the badges of rank attached to his uniform. "…I'm sorry, Sir." He regretfully laid the pinnings down. "This is something I have to do." With one final salute, the knight had turned, without ceremony, and departed.
As Squall's hand touched the doorknob, Cid had tried one last ad-lib. "Squall, are you sure you are doing what's right?"
Squall had not turned. "No, I'm doing what I…"
"…want." Headmaster Kramer said, the word immediately muffled by the throbbing of the watercraft's engines that filled the compartment. Can it really be starting again so soon? Am I the one who will have to stop it this time?
A few minutes later, Quistis, Zell, Selphie, and Irvine climbed dutifully down the ladder leading to the vessel's troop compartment from the upper deck where they had waited the amount of time Cid had requested. Once all had filed into the, now somewhat cramped, hold, as one, they stiffened to attention and saluted the headmaster.
Quistis spoke for the group. "Requested SeeDs reporting as ordered, Sir."
Cid amicably waved them into the compartment's seats. "It's going to be a bit of ride back to the garden, so we can drop the formalities for now." He pasted a quick smile on his face while he surveyed the group. Quite a collection... Oh Edea, is this what we had in mind when we founded the Gardens? The smile became a bit more genuine. Well, they've certainly proved themselves. Anyway I'm not quite the dashing defender of the realm that I used to be… Cid knew what Edea's playful response to that would be.
Quistis cleared her throat, bringing the headmaster back to the room in a hurry. "Oh, excuse me. You'll have to forgive an old man's musings." He placed his hands on his hips. "Thank you all for waiting above while I collected my thoughts. Your outstanding service records aside, I'm sure you're all anxious to know why I requested all of you to return to the garden aboard this particular vessel." Receiving nods all around, Cid continued. "I've called you all here, because there have been developments in Esthar that you all should be made aware of. Before I continue, though, I must receive assurances from all of you, that you will keep the subject of this conversation in complete confidence."
Zell looked a bit confused, and the headmaster paused while Quistis leaned over and whispered "Secret."
Zell's—and the solemn nods of all those present met with the headmaster's approval, and he continued. "As you know, the Estharian researcher, Doctor Odine, is more or less responsible for the construction of the device which allowed sorceress Ultimecia to possess sorceresses living in our time." He paused to make sure everyone was with him. "After the recent disturbances in Esthar caused by forces under Ultimecia's control, Doctor Odine attempted to transmit—through his research—a modification to the device in the future. He succeeded. Essentially, as I understand, the modification has allowed the doctor to record the genetic makeup of any person who uses the device." Cid raised a hand. "Don't ask me to explain how it works, the Doctor went into some detail of the device's operations, but I couldn't understand a word of what he was saying." The group nodded at this, they had encountered similar troubles in their dealings with Odine. "The point is, we now know Ultimecia's genetics. After comparing Ultimecia's DNA with the Esthar population database, samples of his own, and samples I sent to him he has found two matches." Cid took a deep breath before continuing. "Doctor Odine has informed me that Squall and Rinoa's DNA sequences are present in Ultimecia's genetics… Ultimecia is a descendant of both Squall and Rinoa." Cid announced.
The thrumming of the vessel's engine seemed incredibly loud in the shocked silence.
Irvine was the first to speak. "Yee-haw!! Go Squall!!" He slapped his knee.
From her seat, Selphie somehow managed to kick the gangly sharpshooter. "Shut up! Don't you know what this means!?"
"Hell Yah, Darlin', I know what it means! Atta Boy, Squall!" Irvine retorted.
Zell slapped a gauntleted hand to his face, half in embarrassment, half to hide his amusement.
Instead of being annoyed, Cid grinned as well. So this is how they do it, this is how they take so much, and then keep coming back for more. Never underestimate the power of humor. "Well, I suppose that's one way to look at it, Irvine."
But Quistis was on her feet, one hand unconsciously at her mouth. "Headmaster, you don't… I mean…" She shook her head in disbelief. "We aren't going to be…"
Cid raised his hands, shaking his head. "No, no, I'm not going to order you to eliminate Squall or Rinoa." That sentence brought the rest of the group up short. "I've thought a lot about this, and there's no way we can justify that kind of action… it's just not… we created the garden to stop evil sorceresses, Rinoa and Squall are our friends and allies. There's no justification for that sort of action." Cid repeated. Or maybe I just don't want there to be…
"Whew! That's a relief!" Selphie said.
"Man, I see why you don't want us telling anyone." Zell spoke up.
"If anyone finds out…" Quistis trailed off.
Cid nodded. "All joking aside, I can't emphasize the sensitivity of this information. If this were to leak out… A lot of people died because of Ultimecia. That's—that's in the past and we can't change it," Are you so sure? "but some people might not see it that way." Cid spread his hands. "Doctor Odine has agreed that this information should be kept secret—he seems to think there could be some sort of time disaster if anyone in this period should try to change the future, and thus, affect the past." Cid shrugged. "It's enough to make this old man's head hurt just to start thinking in circles like that." He finished.
Quistis's brow furrowed. "Sir, I appreciate that you trust us enough to inform us of these things but…"
"But wouldn't it be safer if I hadn't told you all?" Cid sighed. "Yes, it would have been. But I believe it will assist you in your next mission if you know all the facts." He gestured to the group, palms outward. "You have all proven yourselves to be top-notch SeeD operatives, and I know you are all quite capable of operating in an information vacuum, but I thought you deserved to know." And I thought it might help, if this act plays out in the manner I fear it will.
"So we're heading out on assignment again?" Irvine leaned back, placing his feet on the low table bolted to the compartment's floor.
Cid nodded. "I'm sorry. No rest for the weary, I'm afraid. As you all know by now, Squall is not returning to the garden."
"He went to Galbadia with Rinoa, right?" Selphie leaned forward in her seat.
"Yes." Cid paused for a moment. "What you may not know, is that Squall has resigned his position as a SeeD operative."
"WHAT!!" Zell jumped to his feet. "Oh, no WAY!! Squall would never do that!" Realizing whom he was talking to, Zell added a belated, "Uh… Sir."
"Squall worked most of his life to be a SeeD—just like the rest of us—and he just threw that all away?" Selphie stood as well.
Quistis shook her head. "I can't believe that. It—It always seemed like being a SeeD was the only thing Squall ever cared about."
Cid spread his hands again. "I'm sorry, but it's true. After receiving the information about Ultimecia's genes from Odine, I felt I had to order him to return to the garden. For some reason, he decided he couldn't follow that order. He severed all his connections with the garden. I don't know what else to tell you." The beginnings of a long silence started to fall in the compartment.
Before the silence could solidify, Irvine spoke up. "So we'll be heading into Galbadia then?"
In an unconscious nervous gesture, Cid removed his glasses and began polishing them on his shirt. "Yes. You are the most experienced SeeDs I have right now. You've all had experience with infiltration into Galbadia. You will have a one night layover in the garden once we return, then you will depart for Balamb where you will meet three additional agents. They'll be non-SeeDs, but they have extensive knowledge of the Galbadian military and police structure, so you'll be under their command. Follow their orders unless you believe they are endangering the mission. In that case, you have permission to act autonomously. Your team will then take the underwater railway into Timber and on to Galbadia and Deling City. Once in Deling, you will meet up with another SeeD operative."
Quistis looked concerned. "What will our mission be once we reach Deling?"
Cid sighed. "You are to observe the sorceress Rinoa Heartilly and Squall Leonhart. Avoid contact at all costs. You will report back to the garden on a regular basis on the activities of the sorceress and Mr. Leonhart." Cid made an apologetic gesture. "I know it doesn't sound exciting, but I believe it is the only acceptable course of action. The garden's policy will be to stand by, until we can positively identify threats to the garden and the world." Cid paused for a moment and replaced his glasses. "This may end up as a long-term project. We don't know how many generations will pass before Ultimecia will come to power. It may be as few as one, it may be as many as ten, though the abilities of the sorceress Ellone—from which Odine's machine was designed, seem to point toward the near future as opposed to the far." Cid tried to wave away the concerned expressions on the SeeDs faces. "Don't worry. I'm not sending you off on a ten-year mission. You are simply going to observe the initial interactions between the sorceress Rinoa and the Galbadian government. Once things settle down, we'll bring you all back home." Cid's voice hardened just the tiniest fraction. "This garden will be vigilant, perhaps we can prevent the rise of Ultimecia, perhaps we cannot. We will remain on guard, but we will not be embarking on any cross-generational witch-hunts. You are SeeDs, you have been trained to defeat evil sorceresses, not to murder innocents." Please, dear God, let that be true. Cid looked the group over, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride at the stoic expressions that had fallen over their faces. These were the best fighters the garden had ever produced, they had been forged by the garden's rigorous training regimen, and tempered in the fires of battle. They would get the job done, no matter what. "I'm sure you all have questions, so let's get them cleared up." The headmaster nodded. "Yes, Zell?"
"Uh, I'm sure there's a really obvious reason why we don't do this, but why don't we just tell Squall and Rinoa what Odine found out?" Zell was still on his feet.
The headmaster gave a quick shake of his head. "We cannot tell them for two reasons. The first is Odine's fear of a time-disruption. If we change things now that affect our past, he thinks that there might be a big enough paradoxical disturbance in the time flow to destroy the world—maybe even the universe."
"Oh. Yeah, we probably want to avoid doing that." Zell interjected.
The headmaster continued. "And, secondly, can you imagine what living your life under that sort of stigma would be like? I'm not sure how Squall and Rinoa would react to knowing that they were destined to be the cause of so much pain and suffering, and I really don't care to find out."
The group nodded solemnly, satisfied with Cid's answer.
There was a slight pause before Quistis spoke up. "Headmaster, who are we going to be meeting in Balamb?"
Cid hesitated before speaking. "Uh, I think it would be best if we waited until you meet them for introductions." The SeeDs looked confused at this. Cid quickly changed the subject. "Quistis, you have seniority, so I'm putting you in charge of this mission. Once we reach Balamb Garden, I'll issue you a copy of your orders. They should answer any further questions you come up with. Feel free to call back to the garden if you need any further advice when you're on this assignment. We're not working for a client this time—this is solely a garden operation, so uh…" Cid looked embarrassed. "Um, what I mean to say is, well, try to keep your expenses down to a minimum." Because we really can't afford this mission. Cid grimaced inwardly.
"Understood, Sir."
"Very well. We've got some time before we reach the garden, so until then, you are dismissed." The conversation had removed his earlier comments about formality from everyone's mind, and, falling into familiar patterns, the five SeeDs saluted, and drifted off to various sections of the small, high-speed landing craft to reflect on the meeting.
Several hours later, the Headmaster and SeeDs were back aboard Balamb Garden. As per Quistis's orders, the squad had assembled in a smaller classroom for a private discussion of the upcoming mission.
Quistis was the last team member to arrive, and—seeing that everyone was present—she turned and locked to classroom door. Turning to face her charges, she took a deep breath. "Alright. You know the situation, you know the mission orders." Quistis spread her hands. "Questions, comments?"
Zell folded his arms across his chest, looking upset. "Yeah, I've got a question." He rotated in his perch atop one of the small room's desks to face the entire group. "On behalf of everyone here, I just wanna say: What the fuck?" He jumped down from the desk. "I mean, come on! We spend all this time fighting beside Squall and Rinoa, we saved the goddamn world together, man! And now we're supposed to go spy on them? Shit!" He slammed a fist down on the desktop. "If it wasn't for them, none of us would here, the planet wouldn't still be here!" He smacked his fist into his palm. "Now, because that fruity Odine says so, we're supposed to believe that those guys are the enemy? Hell, I say we forget this mission and go kick the snot outta that weirdo!"
To Quistis's consternation, both Selphie and Irvine nodded at this. "Yeah, why don't we just kill Odine, and bust up all his machines. Then we can prevent that whole Ultimecia thing from happening." Irvine, pushed himself away from the wall he had been leaning against.
"And blow up his lab too!" Selphie added.
Quistis shook her head. "Don't you think the headmaster's already thought of that? The entire Esthar government has probably already gone over this issue as well. We can't do it, and I'll tell you the reasons why." She paused a second to collect her thoughts. "First of all, if we kill Odine and prevent Ultimecia from traveling into the past to possess sorceresses, we create a paradox, because our motivation for attacking his lab stems from the Ultimecia's interference in the past. We might even accidentally create the same time compression that Ultimecia was attempting." The SeeDs paled at that remark. "Secondly, Odine is Esthar's top scientific mind, and Esthar is our ally. We can't just go running around assassinating their scientists and blowing up buildings in their capital." Quistis gestured to emphasize her next point. "And finally, we are SeeDs, we have our orders, and we are going to carry them out no matter what. It is our duty, so I don't want to hear any more about ignoring the mission and going off to do our own thing. The headmaster knows what he is doing." She leveled her gaze at each SeeD in the room. "The garden can't afford loose cannons right now. We are going to carry out our orders to the letter. The headmaster knows what he is doing." She repeated.
…
"Cid, are you sure you know what you are doing?" Edea turned from the large window where she had been watching the swirling ethereal patterns of luminescent plankton in the ghostly glow of the full moon as the waves swirled the tiny creatures around the lower decks of the garden—several stories below.
Cid shook his head as he joined his wife, his arm unconsciously slipping around her waist as he drew up beside her. "No, dear, it's been a very long time since I had any idea what I am doing, what I am supposed to do." He sighed sadly.
Edea's placed her own arm around the dejected headmaster's slumping shoulders. "It's ok, my love, no one really does." She favored him with a sad smile as he laid his head sideways onto her shoulder. "You've done well, my knight. You've saved the world, you've saved the garden, and you… you saved me."
Cid breathed in the familiar fragrance of Edea's long, dark hair as he sighed. "I wasn't the one who did it. They did, they saved us, they let us be together again."
Edea shook her head slightly. "No, Cid, it was you who saved me. You sent them, you knew exactly how to free me from Ultimecia, they were merely your tools.
The headmaster closed his eyes. "And now I have to turn them upon one another." He paused. "Edea, please, tell me there's some other way, something I've overlooked. They don't deserve this."
The former sorceress turned to face her husband, she placed a hand on his shoulder. "No one does, dear. We didn't deserve it either. I wake up every morning and wonder why I have to face this, wonder why we always have to fight this thing… I don't think it will ever end, my love. All it takes for evil to triumph…"
"…is for good men to do nothing." Cid looked down. "I know, but someday, it would be nice to pass the baton to another…"
"But for now, you will do what is necessary, my knight." Edea guided his chin up until their eyes met. Though her abilities had been passed on to another, the spark of sorcery still lingered in Edea's eyes. "I command it." Edea drew him into a strong embrace. "For now, take comfort in this, in us. Together at last."
Closing his eyes to hold back the glistening moisture, Cid whispered into his wife's dark cascades of hair. "I hear, and obey, my love."
Had he cared enough, Seifer might have felt like kicking himself. However, the presence of his two companions, Rajin and Fujin, along with that of the headmaster of Balamb Garden would have caused him to restrain such emotions—had he been capable of them. He still had difficulty comprehending how he had acted down on the docks. He had come down to greet the delegation from the garden with good intentions. He had practiced what he would say, and what he would not say—he had thoroughly prepared himself to meet cordially with the headmaster, or whatever representative the garden sent. The appearance of Squall had swept all that away. For the first time in what seemed like ages, Seifer had felt his long-absent anger manifesting itself again; again he had ached at the absence of the gunblade from the holster at his side. And what do I do, the second the headmaster steps off the boat? Make a complete ass of myself. Seifer felt mildly relieved that the headmaster had asked for a private audience after the group had made its way up to the chateau that the Balamb City government had generously afforded Seifer and his companions upon their return from Galbadia.
Having waved off his cronies, Seifer turned to the headmaster, who was surveying the spartan furnishings of the main living space of the modest villa. He supposed he should at least make some gesture of cordiality to counter the rocky reunion that had occurred. "Sir, I should apologize for the way I acted down there." Seifer waved toward the oaken door, set several steps above the floor level of the room that lead to the street.
Headmaster Cid Kramer shook his head. "Quite all right. I understand why you acted the way you did."
You do? Then tell me. Seifer allowed the silence that fell after the headmaster finished speaking to take root. Finally, he broke it. "I imagine this isn't simply a social call."
Cid turned from the small window he had been facing. "No, it's not." He folded his arms in front of him. "I've come to ask a favor of you, Mr. Almasy."
Seifer raised an eyebrow. This was not what he had expected. He had been prepared for threats, admonishments, even arrest. For a moment, when the four disguised SeeDs had seized his group, he had believed that the headmaster planned to arrest him. It had not mattered. To Rajin or Fujin, it might have, but not to Seifer—nothing mattered anymore, not since—.
Cid continued. "I want you to return to the garden with me, Seifer. I want you to join SeeD."
Seifer actually laughed at this. "No, Headmaster Kramer, I don't think that's possible." He did not know why the headmaster wanted him back, but he did know all the reasons that prevented him from going. "First of all, I am nineteen now. It's too late for me to graduate, but that's the least of the problems." Seifer paused and turned to face the headmaster. "Those people hate me, and with good cause. I am the one responsible for so many of their friend's deaths. I was the one who directed the attack on Balamb Garden, and I alone bear the responsibility for all the results." He shook his head. "No, even if I wanted to, I could never go back."
Cid held out a hand. "You're wrong, Seifer. SeeD does not distinguish friend or foe that way. The garden has forgiven Edea, the garden can forgive you."
"That's different. Edea had no control over her actions. It wasn't even her, it was—" Seifer could not say the name.
"Ultimecia?" Cid watched Seifer flinch—as if from a physical blow as the name was uttered. "And you, you were different, you had control?"
Seifer's eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch.
Cid shook his head again. "No, Seifer. I know how it was for you. I know what you were thinking, I understand you."
In the blink of an eye, Seifer grabbed the collar of the headmaster's shirt, hauling the shorter man up so that their faces were inches apart. "You understand… nothing!" He hissed through teeth gritted in a feral snarl.
The headmaster was not cowed. "Oh no? You think I don't know that you never sleep? You think I don't know why? You think I don't know about the things that come in your dreams, and while you are awake?" Seifer's eyes widened in shock and he set the headmaster down, but Cid pressed forward, his own teeth bared. "You think I don't know about how you've never touched your gunblade since that day? You think I don't know how much you loved her, or how much you hate him?"
Seifer backed away, his hands pressed into his temples. The headmaster's words fell upon his ears like a rain of hammers, knocking away every board he had slapped across his memories. "You can't know what it's like!"
"No?" The headmaster took a step back, but did not stop speaking. "I do know, Seifer. I know how you served her. I know how you try to serve her still. I know why you can never forget. I know how you feel because…"
"Stop!" Seifer raised a hand.
"Because I know how…"
"Don't say it!" Seifer's palms were against his temples, his fingers dug into his scalp.
"I know how you failed her."
Forcing his head from side to side, Seifer sank to his knees. "No!" Blood seeped from under his fingers, where his nails dug into his skin. "No."
The headmaster was merciless. "You failed her, Seifer. She died because you could not protect her." He looked down at the folded form of the former knight on the floor before him. He waited until he was sure Seifer would hear his next words. "I know how much you despise yourself." Cid paused. "I know, because I failed as well."
From the floor, a whisper, a ghost of Seifer's voice. "But Edea lives."
"Yes, but not because of me, because of him." Cid's eyes narrowed.
Seifer slowly straightened. Eyes still downcast, he said "It doesn't matter, you can redeem yourself to her…" With painstaking deliberation, he rose to his feet again, ignoring the blood slowly dripping down the sides of his face. "I can not."
"Are you so sure?" The headmaster turned away from the former knight.
Ever so slowly, Seifer spoke as he turned toward Cid. "What do you mean?"
Facing away from Seifer, the slightest hint of a smile crept across Cid's features. "You know I'm here to ask a favor of you, Mr. Almasy, you don't know what I'm offering in return."
"If you know me so well, you know that there is nothing left that I care about." Seifer looked down.
"Not even… revenge?"
…
The book Zell held before his face was shaking. Seldom were the times that the martial arts expert felt any real fear, however, he was certainly feeling a bit of anxiety now. Again, he sneaked a glance over the hardbound novel with which he was pretending to be interested. There she was, Iris Deen, the most beautiful girl in the world. Today, she was on duty as one of the librarians in the garden's repository of printed documents. Knowing that he was allowing his gaze to linger on her much longer than was safe, he couldn't help but admire the way her student's uniform accented—Oh crap! Iris turned, and her eyes met squarely with Zell's.
Zell nearly gave himself whiplash as he attempted to dive, nose first, into the book he was holding. He stared at the centerline bindings studiously. Not one to be patient however, Zell remained this way only long enough for the flush to drain from his face before peeking again over the top of the thick novel. She was still there, and—to Zell's infinite dismay—she was staring directly at him, a small frown on her face. She began making her way across the library toward him.
Once again behind the relative safety of the hardback, Zell was panicky. She's coming over here! What do I do?! What do I say!? Before he could come up with the answers to the questions racing through his mind, a set of small, slender fingers appeared over the horizon of page 133, Zell looked up at them apprehensively. The fingers' grip tightened, and the novel was slowly drawn from Zell's grasp. As the novel was drawn away from him, Zell was confronted with the sight of an angel—the angel of death, for she was—oh dread—frowning. Preparing himself to be struck down where he stood, Zell opened his mouth to speak.
Iris beat him to it. "It works much better this way." Her frown transformed into a shy smile as she turned Keytones, Microphages, and Other Aspects of Cellular Microbiology right side up and handed the book back to Zell.
"I-I-I" Zell stammered.
"—am Zell Dincht?" Iris raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I know. I'm Iris Deen." She curtsied slightly. "Pleased to meet you Mr. Dincht."
"P-P-P" Zell began.
"Please call you Zell?" Iris flashed him a radiant smile. "Ok, I will. And you can call me Aye—all my friends do."
Zell was thunderstruck. Not only was Iris Deen smiling at him, but also had she just implied that he was her friend? He tried again to speak. "Aye-Aye-"
Iris giggled. "Zell, you're so silly. We may be on a boat, but you don't have to talk like you're a sailor!"
"Tha-tha" Zell's temporary speech impediment had not abated.
"That wasn't what you were going to say?" Iris finished for him. "Oh, I know. But you seem a little tense, I was just trying to lighten the mood." Iris glanced around the library. "You know… we're not too busy right now. I think I might be able to take a little time off… would you like to go for a walk?"
Zell's heart flew up into his throat, where it immediately blocked any words attempting to make it past his esophagus. "Wi-wi-" He choked out.
"Of course with me!" She batted his shirt with the back of her hand. Zell immediately vowed never to wash the bit of clothing again. "Come on." She began walking toward the library's exit. Zell stuffed the book he had not been reading back onto the shelf and—though he was walking on air—managed to stumble over himself in his haste to catch up with Iris.
The main hall of the garden was an airy circular room, bounded by walls that soared up as they leaned inward, causing the entire room to be domed by an enormous paraboloid. The nighttime lights, set into the polished ceramic surface of the concourses ringing the giant room were off, as daylight still cascaded from giant banks of windows set high in the overhead dome. Below the walkways, clear water reflected the blue of the sky and the white and cream inner walls and ceiling of the hall. Brass lined glass railings ran along the edges of the walkways in order to prevent students from taking an accidental dip in the water that gushed from a ring of fountains, set around the central elevator pillar, and rushed quietly over waterfalls below the walkways around the edge of the room.
It was against such a railing that Iris leaned, looking down into the clear rushing water. "I've noticed you've been in the library a lot lately, Zell."
Zell's heart had dropped back into his stomach—where it belonged—but he was now feeling more than a bit queasy. Say something dashing, something totally debonair, something that will sweep her off her feet! "I-I-I" Was the best Zell could manage.
"You haven't been around much, I know, but when you have been here, you've come to the library every single day." Arms resting on the top of a brass rail, leaning forward, Iris twisted one foot back and forth. "You're always standing in that same corner, with some huge tome…" Iris shyly let her gaze travel down along the railing, and then slowly up to meet Zell's. "Sometimes, I think you might be… there just to see me." Zell blushed and turned away.
"Y-Y" Zell stomped a foot, and his inability to speak receded momentarily. "You… noticed me?" On pins and needles he hovered, as the pig-tailed angel considered his words.
This time, it was Iris who shyly looked away. "I-I" She put a hand to her mouth and started again. "Well… actually, I've kind of been… well, following your records, and reading, well, reading your reports."
Zell's heart soared. "Really!?" Not daring to breath, he tried to sidle just the slightest bit closer to Iris.
"Well…" Iris looked up, blushing slightly. "The truth is, um… I think you're, well… I kind of—"
"ZELL!! YO! ZELL!!" Both Zell and Iris turned to look across the hall to where Rowan King was sprinting hard toward the pair shouting at the top of his lungs. "OH MAN, ZELL, YOU'RE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS!!"
As Junior Classmen of Rowan's age had been in short supply when he had joined the garden, Zell had taken it upon himself to befriend the young SeeD candidate during his first days at Balamb Garden. Between classes, he had occasionally mentored the eager student in self-defense, and physical fitness. It was after Zell had told Rowan that running was a great way to improve one's combat endurance that the youngster had began making his constant daily circuits of the main hall. Since then, Running Rowan had become a permanent mobile fixture of the cavernous room. As Rowan King had made himself useful to those in such vaunted positions as cafeteria lady, the relationship had proved—on occasion—to be beneficial to Zell, as Rowan could often provide him with information on the arrival times of new shipments of The Glorious Hotdog and other insider information.
Now was decidedly not, however, one of the more beneficial times. Zell attempted to shoot the excited Junior Classmen a meaningful look. Being a protégé of Zell's, Rowan naturally missed the significance of the glare. Hopping about excitedly and panting a bit, Rowan addressed the pair. "Zell, man oh man oh man! You're not going to believe this! It's just so incredible! I mean, there's no way! It's just so—"
"Spit it out, Rowan!" And then GO AWAY! Zell interrupted the Junior Classman's exhortations of the significance of the news he carried.
"Hotdogs! Zell, Hotdogs!" Rowan waved his arms. "Not just your everyday generic hotdogs, but premium grade, ultrabrand, chili cheese hypermax superdogs! And there's no line!!"
Zell's eyes widened. "The grail!"
"The what?" Iris said from beside Zell.
"It's the holy grail of hotdog hunters around the garden!" Rowan looked at her incredulously. "You didn't know!?"
"Oh, I'm sorry." Iris put a hand to her chest. "I don't particularly like hotdogs myself."
Zell's mouth dropped open, he felt like he had taken a flying kick directly in the stomach. "Wha-what?" He stammered.
"Personally, I prefer lighter stuff." Iris smiled slightly. "You know, tofu, soups, and vegetables—especially brussel sprouts."
Rowan regarded Iris as he would an order of tofu. "Eww!" Then he shrugged and grabbed Zell's arm. "Well, to each her own, I guess. Come on Zell, we gotta go now if we're gonna get to them 'dogs!"
Zell allowed himself to be dragged a few steps toward the cafeteria by the excited cadet. Turning his head, he caught sight of the heartbreaking expression on Iris's face. Silently he appealed to the gods. Why must you always test me like this!? As expected, he received no reply. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. "Iris! Come with us! I'm sure there's plenty of Tofu or whatever available too."
Sadly, Iris shook her head. "I'm sorry Zell, I can't take time off for a full meal until my shift's over. Besides," The slightest look of pique crossed her features. "it's just a hotdog, come walk with me, we can eat later."
"Just a hotdog!" Rowan was thunderstruck. "'Just a hotdog' she says!" He hauled on Zell's arm with renewed vigor. "Come on man, let brussel-sprout girl go back to work and let's feast!"
Zell's mind was made up. Taking a fortifying breath, he squared his shoulders and turned to Iris…
Zell yawned gapingly, and the humid air of a Balamb seacoast summer morning whistled through his teeth as he stood on the observation deck of one of the garden's ferries that was carrying the SeeD squad toward Balamb City's harbor. He gazed wistfully down at the calm aqua-colored water through which the transport's prow clove. Lost in thoughts of things that might have been, Zell did not notice Selphie climbing onto the deck from the transport's hatchway.
"Hiya, Zell! Whatcha doin?" Selphie had to raise her voice to be heard over the noise of the vessel.
"Just thinking about things." Zell leaned over the rail, watching the way the watercraft's wake sparkled in the early morning sun.
"Woa! That's a change!" Suddenly a thought occurred to Selphie. "Is it about a giiirl?!" She said, emphasizing the noun.
"…."
Appearing behind the pair, Irvine draped his long arms over both Selphie and Zell's shoulders. "So, how are my most and least favorite SeeDs doin' this mornin'?"
"Grrrreat!" Selphie chirped. "Guess what! I know something about Zell-ll."
Zell Shrugged off Irvine's arm by way of reply.
"What? Did you eat so many of those chili cheese dogs that you blew chunks again, Zell?" Irvine chuckled.
Zell shook his head. "Nope… but I did have some pretty… … …uh… …tofuish tofu."
Irvine and Selphie were dumbfounded.
"It was… uh… good." Zell finished, and turned back to watching the water.
Selphie was the first to recover. "I KNEW IT!!" She hopped up and down clapping her hands. "Zell's got a GIRL-FRIEND! Zell's got a GIRL-FRIEND!" She chanted.
"Well, good for him, darlin'" Irvine caught hold of one of Selphie's arms. "Come on, let's go back down below."
Selphie tried to pull out of Irvine's grasp. "No, wait! I've gotta know who it is!!" The tiny energetic SeeD dragged the Galbadian sharpshooter away from the hatch and back toward Zell. "Come on, Zell! Tell me! Please! Pretty pretty please?! Tell meee!"
Irvine managed to get a more secure grip, and towed Selphie back toward the hatch. "C'mon babe, give the man some peace, huh?"
"No! Come on Zell! At least tell me what that is!" She tried to wriggle free, pointing with her free arm to a small silver circlet partially hidden beneath one of Zell's gloves.
As Irvine struggled to reel Selphie in, Zell fingered the thin engraved bracelet. "It's… better than hotdogs." He said, almost to himself.
"What?! What? I didn't hear! Irvine, let GO!" Selphie lunged forward.
"Eyouch!" Irvine shouted as his arm bent at a painful angle. Reaching forward with his left hand, he caught hold of Selphie's other arm. "Come on, Darlin, you'll have plenty of time to torment the poor jerk about it on the way to Deling."
"But I wanna know NOW!!" Selphie cried as she was pulled toward the hatch.
Irvine, his grip now secure, lifted Selphie off her feet, and carried her bodily over to the open hatchway and ladder. "Down you go, Darlin'."
Dangling over the open hatch, legs kicking wildly at the air—and Irvine—Selphie screamed. "Irvine! Don't you dare! Let me go, I've got important things to discuss with Zell."
"Bomb's away, babe." Irvine said, with a fatalistic grin, and Selphie fell—with an outraged squeal—down the hatch. He turned to Zell. "You owe me one, sparky." He grinned, and leapt down the ladder, slamming the hatchway behind him.
Had he been paying attention, Zell wouldn't have envied Irvine's position, but, as he idly fingered the silver bracelet—one of a set that had previously both adorned Iris's wrists—he thought of its twin—and the person who's arm it would be resting on.
…
Eyes narrowed against the rising sun of a different dawn, Seifer stood near the center of a circle of fallow, rocky ground. So, the bastard was in Timber now. No matter. Seifer bared his teeth in a vicious grin. He now had the advantage. I should have known this would happen. Seifer should have been able to guess why Cid had come to meet with him, but he had never really thought of the Balamb Garden headmaster as a true knight. Knights did not leave their sorceresses in the hands of others. Knights did not order their sorceresses assassinated. Knights did, however, seek vengeance for their sorceresses, no matter what the circumstances, and in that—at least—Seifer and Cid shared a common thread. Seifer thought of Cid's contract, signed, sealed, and locked safely away back in Balamb. "You should never have attacked Matron, Squall." Seifer neither noticed nor cared that his smile had turned into a feral snarl as he gazed west.
Along the line of coastal cliffs that stretched westward, to the tip of the Balamb Continent, and east, to Balamb City, vegetation was abundant. Thick green grasses and soft bluish purple moss coated the tops of the granite walls that rose hundreds of feet above the crashing surf. Only one spot was devoid of any flora—the spot where Seifer now stood. The circle of barren rock was nearly four meters in diameter, and at its center, a black gunblade had been driven deep into the solid stone. As he stood before the weapon, Seifer unconsciously flexed his right hand.
It had been here, a seeming lifetime—it couldn't have been more than a few months—ago that he had fallen. He had been here when he had failed.
After his defeat aboard the Lunatic Pandora some unknown force in his mind had driven him to return to Balamb. Those days had been an agony of waiting. His sorceress was already lost to him—who knew how many years in the future. Somehow those damned SeeDs had traveled to Ultimecia's time while he, her knight, had been left behind. Still, he had been certain she would return… yes, she would defeat SeeD, compress time, exist in the past as well as the future, and they would be together once again. Every morning, Seifer had come to this spot with his weapon. He had relived every battle a thousand times over. When his sorceress returned, he would be prepared, he had vowed never to fail her again.
But she had not returned. Instead, on that morning, he had fought phantoms. Squall, the Chicken-Wuss, the Cowboy, the one from Trabia, Instructor Trepe, and… Rinoa. He had felt them all before him, prepared for battle, but when he had struck at them, they evaporated, they passed around his blade, tormenting him with their laughter, with their self-assuredness. For hours he had chased the phantasms across the windswept cliffs, and then suddenly, it had all stopped. Ringing clear across time, like the voice of an angel, he had heard her calling him, heard her cry out in desperation, seeking his aid.
Seifer's eyes closed. There was a void in his soul, an icy emptiness where once his heart had responded, had called out to his sorceress—his love. That part of him had been scorched from existence. Burned by the same fire that parted the clouds and run down his sword into his arm. Transfixed in that beam of judgment, he had been found lacking. Seemingly of its own accord, his gunblade had clove deeply into the solid rocks, and the magical energy ripping through him had tossed Seifer aside like a broken toy. It was then that he had known the true agony of defeat. He bore the scars of that day, long branches of scorched flesh, crisscrossing his palm and wrapping up his arm—still fresh, as if it had happened just the night before. They never changed, neither living nor dead, the scarred tissue only existed, it served no real purpose. The slightest bit of a sardonic sneer curled Seifer's upper lip, he knew what that sort of living was like.
Seifer turned, and walked, for the thousandth time, to the weathered edge of the tall cliffs. Holding his arms out to his sides, he balanced the balls of his feet on the edge of the crumbling shale. As low, broken, purple-bellied clouds raced overhead—driven by a stiffening east wind—the former knight again placed his life in the hands of chance. One errant gust would send him plummeting to a watery grave. It would be a relief. For the hundredth time, fate proved far too cruel for any such gesture of mercy, and Seifer lowered his arms, slowly backing away from the precipice. He could not do it himself, he had tried many times. Somewhere, deep inside of him, something refused to believe she was gone. 'Wait' it said. 'Patience' it said. 'She is not truly gone, she will give you a purpose some day' it said. And always, he had no choice but to listen.
Returning to the weapon driven into the rock, Seifer regarded the gunblade. Is this my purpose? Am I to be the vessel of her vengeance? "Ultimecia." He whispered. The wind immediately whipped his words away, but Seifer was certain he felt the rocks tremble beneath his feet as the blade vibrated in sympathetic harmony to the name. He could speak it now. Was that a sign? You gave me your true name, but that is a secret not even these cold cliffs may hear. Seifer shook his head. I will never speak it to anyone but you… "…and I will speak it again." Seifer whispered.
Seifer did not wince as he wrapped his right hand around the familiar grip of the gunblade, he did not flinch at all as the rippling lines of magic flames again burnt their way up the channels of dead flesh lining his arm. Instead, he smiled at the pain the fire brought as it tore under his chest and into his heart. "I will find you, my love. Wherever you are, whenever you are, I will come for you." Seifer released his grip, and as the last few sparks of energy arced between his fingers and the gunblade, he seized the weapon in his left hand. "But first…" No magical energy burned into his flesh as he effortlessly drew the glinting weapon from the half-meter of stone into which it had been driven. "…first, I will kill Squall Leonhart."
Balamb's waterfront was just beginning to come alive as the SeeD transport tied up alongside one of the concrete piers jutting into the city's protected harbor. Without preamble, the headmaster and four SeeDs made their way up one of the winding cobbled streets leading to Balamb station.
Zell thought, for a moment, about requesting permission to visit his foster parents as the group passed the road that lead back to the only home he remembered. Zell was unsure, however, of what he would tell the people he still thought of as his true parents. Hi mom and dad, can't stay long, I'm off to spy on a friend. He thought better of it, and followed mutely at the rear of the small group of mercenaries.
Though it was early, Balamb City's railroad depot bustled with activity. Down the line leading to the switching yard, a long string of boxcars, flattops, and modularized cargo containers were being loaded by a swarm of laborers. Still-green lumber, sheets of shiny corrugated metal—fresh from the extrusion plant—iron girders, and box upon box of rivets, bolts, screws, nails and every kind of fastener imaginable were all being loaded onto the long freight section of the train. The heavy caterpillar treads of a self-mobile crane churned up the sandy soil, sending clouds of powdery dust into the air, as it rolled toward a large flatcar. Four of the line's heaviest locomotives were linked together, the exhaust from their idling engines made the roofline of the station shimmer and dance in the waves of heat. Obviously, Balamb's export business was not suffering from the reconstruction of Timber.
Passengers were by no means in short supply as well. Though most of the refugees from the fighting that had fled to Balamb had already returned to their homes, a large crowd milled about near ladders leading into the passenger coaches. Hopelessly overwhelmed conductors stood at the entrances of the half-dozen rusty coaches that had been dug up from some storage siding, doing their best to imitate the efficiency of the electronic ticket checkers aboard the more modern cars.
Into this scene of chaos, Cid forged intrepidly, followed closely by Quistis. Irvine—next in line—sauntered along at a measured pace. This, of course, drove Selphie up the wall, and she was obliged to help the Galbadian sharpshooter on his way with frequent energetic shoves.
Zell, unusually reserved, brought up the rear. Looking back, Quistis noted the pensive look on the SeeD's face. Undoubtedly, he was thinking about their orders; their mission. None of the mercenaries—though they all hid the fact—could escape the realization that they would soon be infiltrating hostile territory in search of their friends, but not on a rescue mission, not because they planned to render assistance, but rather to observe—and judge.
Quistis barely noticed the jostling of the crowd all around her as she followed Headmaster Kramer. Why send so many of us? Why send us at all? We have other agents who specialize in infiltration of unfriendly territory. The same questions had been running through her head for nearly a day now. The more Quistis thought about them, the less she like the conclusions she was force to draw. The headmaster wouldn't send such a large force unless he expected us to run into trouble… but if we're to avoid contact with the Galbadian authorities, what sort of trouble are we going to face? There was only one logical conclusion; the headmaster believed that SeeD might eventually be forced to fight the sorceress and former mercenary. Against such powerful enemies, who would stand a chance? No one but SeeDs top squad. That the squad members were all friends of the enemy was just details.
Quistis shook her head. The headmaster was not so callous as that. He had to realize the squad would never betray their leader—that Squall had resigned made no difference at all. I know I can't. Zell… not a chance. He wouldn't do it. Selphie and Irvine? I don't know, but it doesn't matter. Even united… Quistis shivered slightly. She had seen the reports from the Battle of Timber. As the sorceress's abilities evolved, Rinoa and Squall were becoming extraordinarily powerful. As she reached up to grab hold of the railing to the ladder leading into the interior of the coach that held the SeeD's cabin—still reserved solely for the Garden's mercenaries, as it had been since the inception of the gardens—Quistis shook her head again. No, even if the four SeeDs could be convinced to fight their friends, they were no longer a match for the sorceress and her knight. Quistis had learned to repress the tiny sad sigh that always tried to fight its way past her lips when she thought of them that way, as she did so, another thought forcibly substituted itself in her mind. Who would they meet on the train? Does the headmaster think that we will fight alongside total strangers? If so, does he really think these outsiders would make any difference at all? Quistis doubted there was anyone, anywhere who could hope to do so. Except… but no, Quistis blew out a small breath, that was impossible… the headmaster would never…
…
Rajin had never been so bored in his life. He sat, head propped on hands, not listening to the multitude of opinions being offered by concerned citizens on public blah, blah, blah. Initially, when he, Fujin and Seifer had returned to Balamb, his position on this particular—he couldn't even remember the name—advisory council had been one of high stature. He had been given the center seat at the long, curved table of city council members that listened to citizen's complaints and suggestions, then debated endlessly among themselves over what recommendations to make to the mayor concerning whatever today's topic happened to be. However, in the middle of one meeting, whilst a prominent member of the community had been making an extraordinarily lengthy speech, Rajin had fallen asleep. As the long-winded businessman had been jabbing the air excitedly with a finger—making his most important points—he had been interrupted by a loud thud as Rajin's head had hit the table. After that, the former SeeD cadet had been consigned to a side seat, where he could nap in peace—if he so chose. However, Such naps were hazardous business, as Rajin had found out. Fujin—sick of her own meetings—was often obliged to wander in to check on her comrade. If she found him asleep… Rajin shuddered and straightened slightly, pretending interest—it was best to stay awake.
Suddenly, Rajin yelped in surprise as a hand smacked him—none too gently—in the back of the head. As the yokel of a shopkeeper who had been speaking paused to glare at the interruption, Rajin turned with dread to face the familiar one-eyed countenance of Fujin. However, instead the usual annoyance, an excited look manifested itself in her single eye. "COME!" She gestured toward the nearest exit of the small meeting hall.
With a half-hearted apologetic shrug to the council, audience and speaker, Rajin complied.
The ride down to the villa afforded the group of former Galbadian officers by the city of Balamb proved to be as hair-raising as always. Rajin wished Fujin would let the one of them with actual depth-perception drive once in a while, but he had learned that stating his opinion would only result in a swift kick in the shins. Before the vehicle had even really stopped, Fujin had alighted, and proceeded to drag Rajin bodily out of the vehicle as well. "HURRY!"
Rajin managed to kick the parking brake in as he fell from the car. "Oof! Hey, relax, Fujin! You're gonna blow a gasket, ya know." He began pushing himself to his feet.
Fujin, not patient enough to wait, hauled Rajin to his feet by way of his ever-present vest and propelled him toward the gate to the chalet's small courtyard. "GO!"
Seifer drove forward and slashed blindly again. The tip of his gunblade sang through the air as he brought his left arm across his body and out, causing the weapon to describe a dark arc in the air. Again, he did not know whom he was fighting. Before, it had been easy, before, all he could think of was that hated face. Always, Squall had been the focus of his rage, of the hatred and loathing he had learned to channel into fighting prowess. Always. Even when he was a child he had been driven to goad the taciturn orphan into scuffles and brawls, and Squall had always risen to the challenge.
Seifer had never questioned his hatred of the boy. It had been one of the few constants in his life, to ask why he was compelled to fight Squall was to ask why he had to breath. But now... Now he knew why. He had realized it in that instant of incomprehensible failure, when he knew the SeeD had killed his sorceress, his one true love. Somehow, Seifer had known, even as a child, that his brown-haired, diminutive peer would one day take away the one he held most dear.
By all rights, this should have made his anger burn brighter than ever—and at first, it had. When he had learned of Cid's plan, of the possibility of revenge, he had sworn to kill the SeeD—but now… now the flare of anger was gone, and Seifer could feel himself slipping back into the deep despair that had gripped him for so long. As he paced the steps of the battle in his mind, he fought—not with the power of fury—but with the strength of desperation. This was all he had left. He had to defeat Squall Leonhart, there was nothing else left for him… was there?
Rajin and Fujin watched Seifer as he fought with the emptiness in his heart, but they did not see how his blade passed cleanly through it. They did not notice how desperate his blows were—as he tried to fend off the hopelessness that once again threatened to engulf him. Instead, they saw only what they wished to see; Seifer, their old friend, a blade once more in his hand, finally practicing again, driving back legions of foes with his vicious—if now left-handed—attacks. Fujin turned to Rajin with the widest smile he had ever seen her wear. "RESTORED!"
Rajin nodded. "Yeah. He's back, ya know." He grinned as Seifer drove his blade deep into the trunk of the large Oak near the center of the small courtyard. They would be a posse once more.
Panting, Seifer released his grip on the weapon. Slowly, he became aware that he was not alone. Looking to his left, he saw his two comrades peering over the low brick wall of the courtyard, both wearing ridiculous grins. He looked back to the gunblade buried in the tree. This was it, it was time to decide. Destroy one more life in the name of his love, or fade away into despair forever. Seifer stood, undecided. Slowly, slowly, he turned away from the weapon. There was no point anymore. She was gone. Killing Squall would not bring her back.
Closing his eyes, Seifer took one step away from the tree in which his gunblade was locked. He felt the slightest sensation of cobwebs brushing across the shattered black diamond that was his heart. Fight on, my knight. It might have been a memory, it might have been a dream, it might have been the wind in the leaves of the large Oak, but something stopped Seifer cold. In the blink of an eye, he had drawn the gunblade from its resting place, and, whirling, he swept it in a screaming arc edged by blue fire. The great tree, deprived of its support, fell with the groaning of wood grinding on wood as it rotated over its cleanly cut stump.
Fujin raised her eyebrow at the still-quivering branches of the fallen tree. "AMAZEMENT!"
"Wow!" Rajin was equally impressed. "So… Does this mean ya know what we're gonna do now?"
Seifer sheathed his weapon. "Now…" he nodded slowly. "Now we will fight."
…
On the last step of the ladder leading into the passenger car, Quistis turned to Headmaster Kramer, standing below her on the station platform. "Good luck, Miss Trepe. Remember, I'm counting on you." Quistis saw the headmaster's lips move, but his words were lost in the clamor of the crowd and the throbbing of the locomotive's engines. She saluted, and stepped inside. Standing clear of the doorway, she waited for the remainder of her squad to assemble. He really is counting on me. Quistis frowned unhappily. But I don't know if I can do it. Holding this team together on a mission like this… I don't even know if I want to do this! You ask too much of us, headmaster.
The remaining three SeeDs boarded the car without incident and stood facing Quistis expectantly. She shrugged. "We might as well check in." Quistis blinked. "The headmaster has informed me that the non-SeeD operatives are already aboard, so we'll go in and make introductions before the train gets underway." Their minds already on the upcoming mission, the three SeeDs nodded silently, each with their own version of a pensive look on their face.
Not surprisingly, Selphie was the first to reach the door of the reserved cabin, Zell right behind her. Keying the door, she stepped inside. "Hi, I'm S—…"
Quistis reached the doorway just as Zell disappeared inside. She looked in. Three inches from the entrance, Zell had stopped dead in his tracks. Quistis couldn't see his face, but she was certain that he was wearing the same expression of horrified shock that was manifesting itself on Selphie's features and her own.
Quistis's first impulse was to reach for her weapon. Like Selphie, she managed to suppress the urge before actually unlimbering her whip. Zell showed a bit less restraint; drawing his fists up to striking position and dropping into a widened stance, ready to attack or retreat in a split second.
It seemed like they stood in that doorway, frozen in this manner for an eternity. "Introductions are unnecessary." Seifer said at last, breaking the spell.
Zell didn't say anything. He simply turned, shoved past Quistis and Irvine, and disappeared. I can't believe it! Headmaster, how could you do this to us!? Now Quistis knew why the headmaster had been so emphatic when he talked about controlling the squad. I'm supposed to be the one who convinces everyone to fight alongside Seifer!? I don't know if I can do it, headmaster! I sure as hell don't want to! Quistis looked again to the cabin's couch where Seifer sat, arms resting on the top of the backrest, wearing his usual expression of haughty superiority. The dark and muscular Rajin sat to his left while Fujin rested silently to his right. Quistis turned, Selphie, and even Irvine still wore shocked expressions, but she could see that the realization that these were to be their allies on the upcoming mission was beginning to dawn on the pair. Zell, however… Quistis sighed.
"You two stay right here, don't do anything until I get back." Quistis snapped out the order, then turned and made her way down the corridor toward the car's entrance. Shoving her way past the people trying to board, she could see Zell's retreating form making his way toward the station's exit.
"Zell! Wait!" She ran to catch up with the excitable blond SeeD. "Stop" Quistis placed a restraining hand on Zell's shoulder. He shrugged her off and continued on his way. Not to be put off her task easily, Quistis moved directly in front of the mercenary. "Get back on that train, mister. That's an order." She stood with her hands on her hips, blocking Zell's path.
Zell shook his head. "No way! There is no way in hell that I'm going to do this! No way I'm going work beside that bastard! Now get out of my way."
Quistis did no budge. "Yes you are. Those are our orders, and your going to carry them out whether you like them or not."
Zell stopped and regarded Quistis. "No. No way I'm gonna fight beside the son-of-a-bitch who attacked my garden, killed my friends, invaded my home town, and tried to kill us all a dozen times! And if you're going to, then you're completely crazy!"
Quistis's expression hardened. "You think I don't know what he's done? You think I didn't have friends who died in the attack? You think I don't see how much he hates Squall and the rest of us?" Quistis spoke in a low, hard voice. "I do know, and it tears at me more than I can say to run this mission."
Zell's belligerent tone softened a bit. "Well, if you feel the same way, why are you going along with this?"
Quistis looked back at the train, where a conductor was making last call. "Look, Zell, it's because I know how much Seifer hates Squall that I have to go. Who knows what Seifer will do if he gets the chance?" Who knows what he's been ordered to do? "If Seifer decides to ditch the mission and carry out his personal vendetta, what's going to happen to our friends?" Quistis shook her head. "As much as I hate it, I have to go now. Knowing that Seifer is going seals that. If—when—he moves against Squall and Rinoa, I'm going to stop him, the team is going to stop him." As the engines aboard the locomotives began to spool up, Quistis looked pleadingly to Zell. "We can't stop him without you, Zell. Please, we need your help. I know it's hard for you to be around him, but please, do it for Squall, do it for Rinoa, do it for us."
Zell's jaw tightened. He closed his eyes. "Alright." Was all he said.
Back aboard the train, Quistis breathed a sigh of relief, seeing that the remaining two squad members had followed her orders—retreating to the coach's entryway, but staying on board.
Selphie's eyes narrowed as she listened to Quistis—relating to her and Irvine a speech similar to the one she had made to Zell. The normally energetic SeeD's lips stretched into a thin white line. Seifer, you're the one responsible for Trabia, you're responsible for so much pain and suffering. Inwardly, she gritted her teeth. You'd better watch out, you bastard.
Had she been alone, Selphie would have bared her teeth in a feral grin of delight when Zell announced that he intended to go sit in the cabin reserved for the SeeDs—no matter what sort of vermin infestation it was plagued with. She desperately hoped Zell would start a fight, she wanted an excuse—any excuse to kill Seifer.
"Well, looks like you didn't run away after all, Chicken-Wuss." Seifer laughed joylessly as the four SeeDs filed into the cabin. His two cronies smiled.
Again, shaking off the restraining hand Quistis laid on his arm, Zell strode forward. Seifer did not move as the martial arts expert held one clawed fist inches from his face. "My name… Is Zell Dincht, and don't you forget it."
Quistis's prayers were answered when Seifer remained silent, and—after a moment—Zell stepped back and dropped onto the seat furthest from the former knight. Rajin and Fujin relaxed. Quistis steeled herself. "Seifer, I need to talk with you." She said in her sternest instructor's voice.
Seifer conspicuously avoided her gaze as he inspected the fingers of his right glove. "Hm… well, maybe after a bit. Me and my old buddy, Chicken…" He paused, and grinned maliciously. "…Zell have got so much to catch up on."
"Now." Quistis said in a voice that brooked no argument.
Seifer shrugged nonchalantly for the benefit of his compatriots and stood. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"
Trying to hide the relief she felt as Seifer backed down, Quistis stepped out into the hallway. Still, her brow furrowed as she walked toward the rear of the car. Why me, headmaster? I've lost as much as anyone because of him. Why do I have to be the one that links our two groups?
Seifer took up a relaxed stance in the doorway of the railroad car, looking out at the walls of the underwater tunnel rushing by as the train raced toward Timber.
"We don't need this, Seifer." Quistis began.
"Come on, Quis." Seifer mocked her with the familiarity in his voice. "I'm just talking to my old friends, you know, acting like things haven't changed." A sardonic smile crossed his face.
Quistis's eyes narrowed. "Look, Seifer. I don't know why you're here, or what you're planning to do, but I've got a mission to complete. Get in my way, and I'll kill you where you stand." she hissed.
Finally, Seifer did look at her. Quistis felt a shock travel through her. His eyes… Though Seifer's face was still locked into a haughty, demeaning expression, his eyes were… not angry, not superior, not confident, but haunted, empty, hollow. She had never seen him like this. "I'm sure you will."
Not 'you'll try' or 'you wish you could' but 'you will.' What happened to him? And suddenly, all of Quistis's preconceptions of Seifer fell away. For a moment, she forgot the evil wrappings with which her mind had swaddled her tall former student, and she saw him for what he really was—empty, burnt out, a ghost of his former self.
"Don't worry, instructor. I won't keep you from completing your precious mission." Seifer sneered, but his voice rang hollow. The way she's looking right through me… god, can she see what I've become? Seifer turned away a bit too quickly. "You may go now." He waved a hand dismissively.
Quistis remained stationary. A long silence fell over the small room, punctuated only by the clacking steel on steel of the coach's wheels. Turning away, she spoke, almost too quietly to hear. "Seifer, what happened to you?"
However, Seifer did hear. So she can see… I'll have to be careful around the others. He snorted at the question that had been asked without expecting an answer. As if I would tell you. And suddenly, he had to bite back a sigh. As if I could tell anyone. "Why don't you go back to making sure your boy scouts don't accidentally kill themselves with their Swiss Army Knives?"
Quistis sighed. "You know, you and Squall have a lot in common."
Seifer's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Careful, instructor." In an earlier time, Seifer might have killed her for saying that, but... Seifer regarded the SeeD. Is that really so untrue? Would he have done what I've done were our roles reversed? Would anyone else follow this path I've chosen? He did want to tell her. It was almost painful how much he wanted to tell this person—his enemy—the deepest secrets of his soul. But I'm not going to. You'll never know… I know what you think of me. I know how all of you see me, how all of you despise me. And you're all right. I am a monster; evil, twisted, and inhuman.
Seifer turned so as not to face the blond former instructor. Who knows what else one can read in the windows to the soul? I never wanted this. I dreamed—just like everyone does—of being the hero, the knight in shining armor. I didn't want to be the bad guy… But I gave it all up for her. I turned my heart to stone and murdered the innocent for her. All the world turned against her, and—because I was her knight—against me as well, but I was her knight, and she was worth it all. Seifer desperately wished Quistis would leave. He tried unsuccessfully to stem the flow of betraying thoughts, as if the SeeD might somehow snatch them from his mind and hold them up for all to see. Gritting his teeth, he stared hard, looking out to the concrete and steel rushing by the coach without seeing a thing. But she's gone, and now I'm nothing. When I was with her, I was her guardian, her right hand, I shared her soul, and I was her vessel. I knew I could do anything. Now I'm nothing, nothing but the husk of what I once was—an evil, cruel, empty shell of a man. I know the path I have to walk now. You know it too. Accept what must be.
Seifer's eyes had closed. Reject me, hate me, loath me… but please… …please don't try to understand me.
When Seifer opened his eyes again, he breathed the slightest sigh of relief, Quistis was gone.
The rest of the trip to Timber passed in an uneasy but uneventful silence. To Quistis's relief, Seifer did not seem inclined to provoke any of her charges into action, choosing instead to maintain his mask of cold superiority through silence and demeaning glances.
After a few jostling bumps as cars and engines were switched in Timber, the coach in which the party rode began its trip to Deling.
"Alright SeeDs," Quistis began, at last breaking the leaden silence, "time to go incognito." She stood. As the three other SeeDs followed her lead, Quistis doled out the undercover kits the party had been issued upon leaving the garden. "You can draw a single disguising spell from this thing." She indicated her small-makeup-kit-sized black case. "Hopefully you all remember your training with these. The spells are pretty rare, so I don't have many extras." She regarded the small party. "If you remember, these things last until you get hit with a dispel magic, so we should be ok." She snapped the case open. "There's also some makeup, hair-dye, and plastiskin in here, but the makeup and plastiskin aren't waterproof, so try to get your disguise magic to work right."
Zell was eyeing his kit distastefully. He opened his mouth to speak.
Quistis beat him to it. "Yes, Zell, you have to put this stuff on." She sighed. "We're all famous now."
One side of Irvine's mouth quirked up in an ironic smile. "Yup, we couldn't go thirty seconds in Galbadia afore the aw-thoraties would git us." One brow lowered. "But I never got training on these things."
"Oh, don't worry, Kinne-poo, I'll help you out." Selphie grinned maliciously.
Irvine realized he was trapped. "Uh, ok, darlin'."
"Try to keep it simple. We definitely don't want to draw attention to ourselves." Quistis frowned. "You've all been issued some normal street clothes too. Use the lavatories at the end of the coach to get into disguise. Come back here when you're finished."
Selphie grabbed Irvine's arm. "Come on, Irvy. We'll go first. This is gonna be FUN!"
As he was dragged down the hall, Irvine's voice could be heard floating back to the cabin. "Now, darlin' about droppin' you down that hatch this mornin', you know I…"
Returning to her seat to await her turn, Quistis turned her head toward Seifer. "I trust you have adequate disguises for the mission?"
Seifer leaned back where he sat. "But of course, Miss Trepe." He grinned falsely, "But what about …Zell?" He turned toward the combative SeeD. "Are you sure you've got enough yellow feathers in that little box to cover yourself?" Seifer paused for a second. "Oh, but then you wouldn't be out-of-character now would you?"
Zell stood and turned toward Seifer.
"Zell, please." Quistis stood as well, trying to place herself between the agitated SeeD and the former knight.
It was then that the door to the cabin opened to admit two women; one short, sprightly girl with shoulder-length straight blonde hair and brown eyes, and one tall, gangly brunette with blue eyes. The brunette looked positively miserable, and moved in a decidedly mannish manner.
Distracted, Zell turned away from his antagonist. "Irvine?"
The brunette nodded unhappily.
Quistis had to cover her mouth to keep from exploding with laughter at the disguise of the Galbadian sharpshooter.
"You look terrible." Zell said in shock, Seifer momentarily forgotten.
Rajin's laughter shook the cabin. "Oh man! He's not the man he used to be, ya know?"
"I know." The spell caused the sharpshooter's voice to emerge as a screechingly high falsetto, which fit neither the 'old' Irvine nor his new appearance.
"Ridiculous." Observed Fujin with a broad grin.
Quistis shook with the effort of restraining her mirth.
The remainder of the group managed to apply their disguises without incident, Seifer, Rajin, and Fujin producing their own undercover kits when queried by Quistis. Zell—with some help from Quistis—transfigured into a black-haired rather stout fellow who's beakish nose and wrinkle lines gave him the appearance of being in his late thirties. Quistis donned a pair of hazel contacts, changed her hair to a dark brown hue, and made subtle alterations to her facial features. Fujin proved herself quite proficient at the disguising spell, as a bit of complex casting made her eye-patch disappear and her hair, skin color, and facial features transformed into a distinctly oriental appearance. She also assisted Rajin in transfiguring into a blue-eyed, fair-skinned Norwegian with orange hair and a matching orange mustache, which he was forever scratching. Meanwhile, Seifer erased his scar, darkened his hair a shade, and changed his facial features enough not to be recognizable.
Once all disguises were donned, Quistis stood, and walked across the vibrating carpeted floor of the cabin and leaned against the bunked beds set against one wall. Seeing that she had everyone's attention, she cleared her throat and addressed the group. "Obviously we'll be arriving in Deling within the next few hours." She began.
"Obviously." Seifer repeated with a sneer.
Quistis favored him with an acidic glare and continued. "Our first priority is to set up a base of operations from which we can rotate shifts keeping the targets under surveillance." The SeeDs squirmed uncomfortably upon hearing their friends referred to as targets. Quistis shrugged inwardly. They'll just have to get used to it. "Once we've begun the mission, I've been informed that our contact in Deling will be joining us."
The portly black-haired man that was Zell raised a hand.
Quistis nodded. "Yes, Zell?"
Zell lowered his arm. "Uh, who is our contact in Deling?"
Quistis frowned. "I'm sorry, the headmaster didn't inform me. I guess we'll be find out when we get there."
"…Again." Selphie muttered darkly, narrowing her eyes and staring over to where Seifer sat.
"Watch, it'll probably be that Biggs guy or somebody." Irvine growled—as well as he could under the influence of his disguising magic.
Quistis ignored their comments and continued. "There's a few items we need to address before we arrive." She paused for a moment to organize her thoughts. "First off, everybody needs to choose a name to fit their disguise. Once you've decided on yours, let everyone know what it is. We won't be practicing among ourselves; everyone will go by their real names when we're together, otherwise things might get confusing if we run into any trouble. You've all taken classes in this sort of thing, so I'm counting on the fact that everyone can handle this sort of thing and not give themselves, or anyone else, away." She waited until each of the SeeDs had nodded to show they understood. "Also, we haven't been given enough gil..." Quistis paused, unsure of how to continue. "…well, if the mission runs… that is, we may find ourselves a bit short on funds… so during surveillance rotations, those not on duty will need to find some sort of part time work so we don't get, uh, evicted from our base."
The eyebrows of the three disguised seeds shot up. Rajin chuckled, Fujin scowled. Seifer rolled his eyes. "Oh, I can see that a great deal of planning went into this mission."