Chapter Seven: First Blood

                "What—Did you say Quezacotl? Out there?" Seifer glanced from the desert storm to the brunet at his side. He didn't doubt Squall's words. Something in the others eyes, an eerie radiance that told Seifer of truth.

                Jade eyes fixated on the dark sands. There was a glowing spot out the horizon. Thin white lines whipped out from the area and lashed the earth and sky. Each connection caused Seifer's room to be flooded with light. "How do you know that.."

                Seifer turned to Squall, but as usual, the brunet was not listening. The blonde reached out to touch Squall's shoulder in order to gain his attention. As soon as his fingers connected with the other, a numbing pain ran up his arm. Seifer jerked away and retreated a few steps. He withdrew back into the shadows of the room, clutching his tingling arm tightly to his chest. It had happened so suddenly that Seifer was too shocked to cry out. Squall didn't even seem to notice. The man was continuing to stare out the window with a ghostly expression.

                It has to be that sorceress at work, Seifer slowly began to make sense of the strange storm. That jolt of energy from Squall seemed to have woken up his mind. It was logical; those cracks of lightning were in the direction of Aldazir. Rinoa was out in those sand dunes somewhere, headed in that direction. Seifer should have realized an 'incident' like this would have happened.

                He had been the one to make up the false message. Seifer had sent a servant to deliver it to one person, then to another, and then another until finally it was given to a messenger to deliver to Rinoa. Her father never really asked for her to return home. Seifer had just made that up to make her leave without questions asked. He had then asked Raijin to take a few personal guards and camp out in the sands, follow Rinoa's traveling group then slit that witch's throat during the night.

                It was a dirty thing to do, but to Seifer it was justifiable. This way the blood would not be on his hands and he would remain pure. Yet, after seeing that strange show of lightning out in the desert, Seifer realized that getting rid of the sorceress would not be so easy. It at least bought him time..

                Seifer's eyes lit up at the last thought. His gaze fell on Squall who was glowing in the moonlight—but wait, there was no moon in the sky tonight. What in Bahamut's name was going on? It was like Squall was responding to the electrical energy out in the desert.

                That's right, Seifer's eyes narrowed. He remembered now why Squall was here. The brunet had been tainted by Rinoa's touch. That witch had made Squall desirable, yet untouchable; and now the young man was responding to her energy. Seifer was supposed to break that perfection he saw—that was why he had sent Rinoa away. When that snake was around there was never a moment to carry out his plans without her interruption. But not tonight..

                The room filled with another flash of light. Something glinted ominously to Seifer's right. He glimpsed to see his discarded dagger on a chair. Another strike of lightning made the blade glow under Seifer's intense stare.

                Perfect..

                The room was dark, albeit the flickering red-tinted light that came from the low burning torch situated between two windows. Outside the sky was starless and robbed of the moon—then suddenly the darkness would be chased away by a single flash of lightning. The storm continued to rage out in the desert. Every burst of light silhouetted a figure in the window, and the other slinking slowly towards the chair.

                With every burst of light Seifer edged closer to the chair. He reached out and curled his fingers around the cold hilt of his curved dagger. Pulling it back, the blade slit through the chair cushion, spilling feathers over the marble floor. Seifer held the dagger low and close to his thigh. He slowly stalked up behind Squall; feathers swirled along the floor with his movements.

                Squall stood but a few feet in front of him now. Seifer hid the dagger behind his back. He drew closer to the brunet. There was no response; Squall simply stared out the window in a trance. Seifer lifted a hand to touch Squall's shoulder, but instead he let his fingers hover inches from the other's skin. The hairs on his arms rose; not in fear, but with some strange energy that radiated from Squall.

"She really did corrupt you," Seifer mused aloud yet received no reaction. "She's putting everything I hate into you, but she hides it behind this spell that has been cast on you.."

                Seifer's fingers tightened on the blade's hilt. His eyes were trained on the mass of dark brown hair that was the back of Squall's head. The blonde prince was waiting for some response, or a simple look of acknowledgement. When it appeared safe to continue, Seifer went on assuming Squall was not listening.

                "She made you an illusion; a nearly perfect image before my eyes. I know why she did this too," Seifer smoothly spoke the words and believed every one of them. He had thought long and hard on this subject before, "Rinoa wants to humiliate me in front of my father. I won't let her though, I will destroy anything she throws in my path."

                Seifer lowered the dagger to rest against his thigh. Beads of sweat began to form on his brow despite the cool night temperature. It was from the butterflies that were taking flight in his stomach. Seifer had always been a man that was quick to threaten, but when it came down to acting on his words, he had never truly carried out anything on his own. It had always been a servant, guard or hired knives that carried out his will.

                The wickedly curved dagger was raised into the air. Flashes of light made the scene perfectly visible, but it was all done in complete silence. The two shadows flickered on the wall, the very image of murder about to be played.

                The room once again went dark, even the light out on the horizon went out. The ethereal glow that had been clinging to Squall's skin lifted. The torch was the only source of light now. Seifer remained posed in the air, torn with indecision. But an Almasy had to do what needed to be done. An Almasy did not back down in fear!

Seifer closed his eyes and raised the dagger even higher, then brought it down towards Squall's neck—

                "Will you destroy me then?" Squall suddenly questioned as he came out of his daze.

                Seifer tensed his muscles, bringing the curved tip to stop centimeters away from breaking pale skin. He opened his eyes and studied his target. Squall still had his back to him and was probably unaware of what Seifer could have done if the voice had not shattered his concentration.

                I shall, it has to be done. I cannot back down. I will not be weak..

                He raised the dagger again, refusing to grace Squall with a response. The answer would be the sharp tip of this blade sinking deep into his flesh. Seifer kept his eyes opened this time and brought the dagger down..

                Squall didn't receive a quick response from the prince, which was unusual. He turned his head to the side to try and see where the other was. What he saw was shadows dancing on the wall, silhouettes that were made by the torch. One was standing, while the other was raising an object appearing to be a knife. The shadows were so close together. It was like a murder was—

                Seifer didn't hesitate, nor did he pull back. Just as the curved tip was about to meet skin, Squall spun around with shock etched on his face. This caught Seifer by surprise. He lurched backwards, jerking the blade back up before it sank into the brunet's chest.

                But it was too late to prevent harm. The curved blade slid up Squall's face, kissing his forehead with razor-sharp steel. Blood instantly sprang to life, pouring out over the cold metal. Seifer staggered backwards with eyes wide. He stared at Squall who had stumbled back into the wall. Both hands were covering his face, but it did not stop the blood that seeped through his fingers. Numerous rivets of red ran over his pale skin, then down his arm to finally drip off and create a small pool on the marble floor.

                Seifer's gaze lowered to the dagger he clutched tightly in his hand. Squall's dark blood was there as well. The hot liquid covered the full length of the curving blade. Seifer had held it upright, so the blood had flown over the small hilt and coated over his fingers. Instantly Seifer dropped the dagger and stared horrified at the dark blood that was not his own. The blade clattered in the darkness and flung flecks of blood over everything near; including Seifer's legs.

                The blonde prince vigorously rubbed his fingers over the front of his garments. It was no use; the blood seemed to stick to his flesh. Seifer couldn't take it—he was now unclean with the blood on his hands. It wasn't meant to happen like this.

                Squall slowly slid down the wall, still clutching his hands over the gash on his face. He didn't make a sound; only twisted in pain. Seifer saw the movement of Squall's legs curling up to his chest. The prince was aghast at what he saw. Blood was all over the brunet. It tainted Squall's hands and stained the front of his tunic. The floor was even painted in the dark color.

                Seifer felt the impulse to go to Squall, to help him. He wanted to curl his arms around the other and apologize profusely for spilling his life's blood out over the cold marble.

                But.. he had done it. Seifer had broken the perfection. His intent had been to kill Squall, but this would suffice. If the man didn't bleed to death, then it was certain that a scar would form. Squall would no longer be flawless to the eyes. It was over, yet Seifer did not feel satisfied with what he had done. Instead he felt a heaviness settle itself over his heart.

                Almasys are not weak, they do not regret!

                Seifer held his head high even though his body was screaming to run away. The prince had to hold up the arrogant pride of his family name. If he ran, it would shame his father.

                "You are no longer to work in the palace. We have no place here for unsightly scarred servants. You will return to the rock quarry from which you came from. You will do this by sunrise or I shall have you dragged out and slain in front of the people you call family and friends." Seifer curled his fingers into fists to keep from shaking. He had done what he had planned, or as close to it that he could muster. Now that the words and threats were out, Seifer began to back away. His eyes once again fixated on his red tinted fingers. It gave him all the more reason to flee.

                The victory was hollow. It felt more like a loss. Perhaps it was another trick of sorcery? It could be possible..

                "Squall.." Seifer called out before he could choke the works in his throat. The brunet stirred and began to remove his bloodied hands from his face. Seifer didn't want to see anymore. He whipped around and did the only thing he knew how to do well.

                He ran.

End Chapter.