Chapter Eight: A Dark Future

                The desert must have been filled with an uncountable number of sand grains. If the little specks represented anything at all, it was words; mountains of words that shifted against one another to make sentences. Everyone had access to the sands, to all the words. Just a handful of the diamond specks could make up a story.

                The sun had risen once again. Seifer was sure that everyone had a handful of the sand that told his story. It seemed that every man, woman, and child knew about what he had done to Squall. Every pair of eyes stared judgingly at him. They all saw his bloody hands—the red liquid had long been washed away, but it was still visible under the unblinking gaze of so many eyes.

                Seifer had to flee from them as well. It was a terrible shame that he forced himself to endure. He went to one of the only places where he could get away from them, yet still be there at the same time. He went to the river. A ferryboat of his father's would provide shelter from all the eyes.

                It turned out to not be as peaceful as previously thought. Seifer was now on this boat with his father. The Pharaoh had been delighted to see his son jogging down the dock to join him. To Seifer, it was nothing of importance; he just wanted to escape—it was a misfortune that his father happened to be at the river and then requested that the blonde ride with him.

                Seifer sat on the corner of the flat vessel. A dark silence had settled between him and everyone else. Seifer made sure to constantly kept his back to his father because he was afraid that the man would see the blood and then label him a failure.

                "The priests tell me that hard times are coming," Seifer's father spoke. The prince wasn't listening. He stared blankly down at the opaque water as the Pharaoh went on. "This I know. I can read the signs in the stars myself. The sky speaks of war, my son."

                Seifer's head lifted. He meekly glanced over his shoulder at his father. The man had actually called him 'my son'. It was comforting at the time; albeit a very small bit of affection, but Seifer took what he could get at the moment. "War?"

                "Yes, war," the man nodded from his chair. He crossed his arms and looked out towards Zamir. Seifer examined the stone hard expression on the man's face. The prince did not really look like him. The Pharaoh had dark brown hair, and a darker tone to his skin. Even his eyes were dark, looking more like chips of onyx. Seifer was just an even mix between this man and his fair skinned, light blonde haired, bright greened eyes mother.

                "The east has been rising in rebellion. Do you know why?" his father turned to look directly at him.

                "No," Seifer quietly answered and looked aside. He didn't know anything—he was convinced that he was just a simple fool; a mere child when compared to his father.

                "That is where my father fought a man that was also a pharaoh, a ruler of the eastern kingdoms. This other man hailed loyalty to Griever and would not yield to Bahamut. He was a fool, son. My father waged a great battle against him that took place in the city of Marr. The gods were on the Almasys side and we won by the third setting sun. My father's men tore down Griever's temple and slaughtered the priests the next morning. He threatened that if the people ever lifted praise to Griever that he would kill them all."

                "The Pharaoh that was defeated, what was his name?" Seifer curiously inquired.

                "It is forbidden to speak his name. His rule and existence ended the day his head was chopped off and presented to his people," the Pharaoh replied with a slight nod; even he must abide by the laws.

                "Oh," Seifer searched for a better response but nothing came. He didn't want to return to the tense silence though; not when his father and him seemed to be getting along like how things were meant to be. "But why is there threat of war? I thought grandfather had taken care of the rebels."

                "That was a long time ago. The people that remember that day are long dead as is my father. This new generation doesn't know the sharp edge of the taboo against Griever, so they praise him and rise against us." His father sighed. War was not something to look forward too.

                The words 'sharp edge' made Seifer wince. It made him think of how his curved dagger had slice through Squall's skin the night before. Then afterwards how the wound bled profusely. Seifer didn't know what happened to the brunet. When he dared to enter the room the next morning there was no trace of the other. The blood had been washed from the floor as well.

                "Father," Seifer closed his eyes and kept his face adverted from the pharaoh. He knew the man was paying attention. "What would you do if I did something…"

                Seifer stumbled for the right word. He didn't want to give away that he had done something to make his father angry. It was all too confusing at the moment. This war game with his cousin was going wild—and now his father was talking about a future wide-scaled war. That just meant that everything will just get worse as time went on; there was never a moment in war when a man had a chance to breath a sigh of relief or say that things were getting better. War was never good, no matter how it turned out.

                "What would I say if you did what?" His father questioned.

                "Nothing. I just think I did something wrong the other night.." Seifer mumbled quickly.

                "What did you do?" Another persistent question.

                Seifer smothered a growl in the back of his throat. He suddenly didn't feel like being in the company of his father. Quickly he summed up a half-truth, half-lie, "I did nothing last night that would have been wrong. I just had a troublesome dream and woke up to a raven quorking outside my window."

                "Oh. Ask the priests about your dream, I am sure that they can tell you what it means," His father replied, smoothly ending the subject.

                Seifer rolled his eyes at the suggestion. Sure his father was just trying to be helpful—but really, those silly priests of the temples were nothing but a joke. They would probably tell him something along the lines that mercury was in the dark, thus that meant he would not find happiness until he saw the light of the fifth day. Or that Cerberus was a hungry God and shall devour someone close to him. Stupid priests.

                "I wish to go to shore," Seifer stood abruptly. He continued to let his back face his father; let the proud man think what he wanted. Seifer had his reasons for treating the Pharaoh with gestures that seemed disrespectful; reasons that he couldn't even quite understand himself.

He couldn't see, but the prince knew his father had signaled to the servants to return to the harbor because the river ferry lurched to the side. Seifer jadedly watched as the shore approached. He had the faintest urge to go to the rock quarry. Although he would never admit to anyone that he wanted to see Squall. He just wanted to know if the brunet was alive and well.

"One more question," Seifer turned sideways to meet his father's gaze. "Can you tell me about Griever, or—" his father was already shaking his head. Seifer frowned and finished his sentence, "—or is it forbidden."

"To even mention that God's name is not allowed, remember this. Even we must respect the laws," the Pharaoh replied.

Seifer held back a disappointed sigh. He would have liked to hear about this foreign God, but it seemed that it was not meant to be. He didn't have a chance to question further because the ferry bumped into the dock. Seifer said his farewell and walked into the city of Zamir. Immediately he felt the eyes on him. It made his skin crawl. The prince let his jade eyes fall to the sandy path. Their piercing gazes were like needles, pricking here and there. It would not kill him, but the pain was sharp enough to cause Seifer's vision to blur with dry tears.

Just don't tell father. I beg of you..

The sullen prince drifted down the streets. Citizens of all sort moved out of his way. It seemed normal enough, but Seifer knew they were afraid. They no doubt thought of him as a monster.

I didn't kill him though. I'm not really blood stained—I swear..

A crack of a whip caused Seifer's head to snap upright. The sound was abnormally alarming. He hurried his pace through the city until the buildings became sparse. Seifer came upon a large flat, vacant space. A wide gully dropped down to his left; the rock quarry. He briskly walked over the hard packed earth. His ears were straining to hear the sound of a guard's whip. It was strange, but Seifer was afraid that maybe Squall was being whipped—the brunet didn't deserve any more scars or pain. Not from a lowly guard, not as a slave.

Slave. That word didn't seem to fit Squall anymore. There was something more to that man, but it was all secretly wrapped up in black ice. That very mysterious nature of Squall was what drew Seifer's attention; that and a few other curious aspects of the silent brunet.

The prince traveled the full length of the gully and back, yet he found no sign of Squall. It was a grievous thought to think the man dead. Arrogantly Seifer lifted his head and scanned the faces. He better not be dead. It was just a little scratch. I thought he'd be stronger than that.

Seifer's eyes roamed over the passing workers. One man marched by with a tangled mass of brown curls, and then another with a clean-shaven head. Squall had to be here somewhere, it was not as if a .. slave.. could take a day off. Seifer continued to watch each man that went by. One man that showed signs of balding followed closely by a short male with vibrant blonde hair that rose in a line of thick spikes; kind of like the crest of a rooster.

"You," Seifer called out while pointing an index finger at the blonde man. The prince had recognized the man to be the one present when Squall had been taken to the palace. The shorter looked up in question then glanced around to see if perhaps Seifer had meant someone else. "Yes you, with the blonde hair, the one with the chicken crown."

That seemed to catch the man's attention. The worker frowned then stepped out of line as Seifer approached. A guard saw what was happening and began to follow the prince, but Seifer waved him off then came to a halt a few feet in front of the shorter. "What's your name?"

The worker eyed Seifer suspiciously before glancing nervously at the retreating guard. It was an unusual situation, "Zell Dincht.. Prince Almasy."

Zell focused his eyes on the ground. Seifer noticed this and became aware of how sick he was of people treating him with such mannerisms. Ignoring the tension brewing in the air, Seifer went on with the hope this man would be helpful. "Where is Squall?"

Bright blue eyes looked disbelieving at the prince, but only for a second. Zell adverted his attention a second time and began to shift uneasily, "No—I mean I don't know.."

Seifer narrowed his eyes. He had watched plenty of men squirm under his gaze. He knew when they were nervous, afraid, or lying. This situation was no different. Seifer leaned in close, making a point to bend down to make eye contact. He spoke lowly, "Tell the truth, it'll do you good."

Zell bit his lip and offered no reply. Seifer growled but refrained from lashing out. If he acted violently then that would attract the guards attention and promptly interfere. "I don't mean whip lashes. I can do far worse than that."

Zell's hands tightened into fists that shook at his sides. A smirked automatically found its way onto Seifer's lips as a familiar arrogance came flooding back to him. The prince drew back and cocked his head to the side, "Did my words ruffle your feathers, chicken?"

Like a good slave, Zell didn't reply. He just kept his silence as it was the only thing he could truly own in this world. Seifer took a quick glance around the rock quarry as he mentally went through a few casual threats he could throw at the short blonde. Once decided, a feral grin appeared. "Instead of punishing you for your insolence, I think I shall have one of the guards find that skinny brown haired girl. What was her name again? Sel—"

"No! Leave her out of thi—" Zell outburst was cut off by his own hand clamping over his mouth. Panic filled his bright eyes.

"Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" Seifer mused while arching an eyebrow at the odd expression on the man's face. This situation felt strangely familiar, like Seifer had been through these words and retorts before. It was almost like the times when he tormented Squall—except at those times, there was an obvious tension, and every response the brunet made Seifer's temper flare. Here it was different. Seifer felt completely at ease while taunting Zell.

"I'm no one. I didn't mean it like that—please!" Zell clasped his hands together and held them in front of his face in a pleading gesture.

Seifer smirked. He knew how to play this game; he had done it countless times in the past. The words falling out of Zell's mouth were not sincere enough, and the shorter was bending his knees in a mock gesture of pray, but he was not on his knees, yet.

Seifer turned away and eyed the nearest guard who was watching. "You, come here. I need you to find something for me."

The guard began his way over to receive details. Seifer meanwhile flashed a wicked grin at the begging worker. Zell instantly drop the rest of the way to his knees. He held his hands over his head—Seifer noted how tight the other was gripping his fingers together, causing the knuckles to go white. "Please, my prince, I meant no disrespect—"

"Yes, Prince Seifer?" The guard ignorantly cut off Zell's words with a question of his own.

Seifer turned his impish gaze up to the guard, "I need you to find a girl for me."

Zell's shoulder shuddered with what Seifer guessed to be a repressed sob. Seifer raised a hand and held it horizontally a little below his shoulder. "She is about this tall—"

The blond prince cut off when Zell suddenly reached up and grabbed a fistful of his thin robe. Seifer took a moment to observe the man's behavior. It didn't seem that this action was done in order to grovel. In fact, by the way the short blonde pulled at the linen fabric with a clenched jaw, Seifer interpreted it to be a silent threat. He did not ignore this possible risk of bodily harm, even with a guard standing nearby. By mere looks Zell appeared to be well muscled, probably from the years he spent working in the quarry, and he could probably inflict real harm if he wanted.

The smirk never faded from his lips, even with the underlying threat. Seifer finished off his description, "She has white hair and red eyes. Find her for me."

The guard hurried off. Zell let go of the prince's garments and looked quizzically up at the man. Seifer dropped the smirk and glared daggers down at the worker. "Now tell me what I want to hear."

Blue eyes glared back for a split second before Zell remembered whom he was dealing with. He scooted back on his knees and dropped his hands to settle in his lap. He looked half determined to refuse the prince an answer, but slowly it came. "He's here.."

"Don't play games, I don't have the patience. Tell me where he is, now." Seifer hissed his annoyance at the other man.

Zell folded his hands together, once again gripping tightly in an effort to keep his tongue under control. "You have to promise something.."

"I told you that I do not want to play these games," Seifer had the right of mind to grab the blonde's throat and squeeze the answer out of him. It would make things a lot easier. And since when did he make promises to underlings? Never.

"Just don't hurt him.. he didn't do anything.." Zell's pleading ocean blue eyes sought out the prideful jade.

Seifer felt a coldness pass right through him. He pressed his lips together and said nothing. Those words smothered his fiery temper, and left an icy rage in its wake. At first Seifer wanted to deny he had ever hurt Squall, but he knew that everyone had their handfuls of sand; they knew the truth. He also wanted to say that he would do as he pleased, but he couldn't bring himself to spit out the words.

"Please. I will tell you were to find him, just don't hurt him anymore," Zell pleaded more; though his words smashed into the prince's mental wall made of a mix of fire and ice. "Don't take him to the palace again. He belongs down here with us—"

"Shut up," Seifer snapped, his voice drained of emotion. "I won't hurt the damn.. that.. slave anymore than I have harmed you. Tell where he is now, or I will make sure you never speak again."

"The other side of the gorge, on the northern end," Zell quickly sputtered.

If it were any other occasion, Seifer would have smiled at the victory. Instead he gave a cold glare and left the kneeling blonde in silence. Why did everyone have to shove that in his face? Squall had gotten what he deserved. He was a disobedient slave that had gone without punishment for far too long. Seifer was in the right! He was the prince, Squall just a servant—it shouldn't matter!

"Stop looking at me!" Seifer suddenly nipped at a passing guard who had indeed been watching. He quickened his pace to tread down the path leading into the gully. Sounds of metal picks clicked continuously as workers chipped at the solid walls. Every now and then Seifer would catch the sound of a whip cracking; it sent a shiver down his spine. He quickly walked up the opposing path to flattop; this side seemed to be up higher than the one he had just been on.

Seifer moved along the marching lines, seeking out a familiar face. The back of his mind was already working out different methods of torture in case Zell had sent him on a wild goose chase; the method that stuck out most was tar and feathers. Seifer managed a soft chuckle as he moved through the workers. He moved away from the lines and stood where he could see them all without having to walk through them. Jade eyes scrambled over the faces.

Why do I feel so desperate to find him..

The prince remembered well that Squall could 'disappear' when around other people. It was a mystery to how Rinoa had spotted the man in the first place. Perhaps it had been the absence of scars when all the other bodies were littered with whip marks? Jade eyes began to seek out a new detail. It didn't help. A lot of the men had only a few scars along their arms or back.

What is it that Rinoa had pointed out—his eyes? But I'll never find them. He would never look at me again.

Seifer was slowly coming to the point where he would give up his search. It would probably do him some good never to see that brunet again. Sighing, Seifer looked one last time over the slaves. He imagined how Squall's eyes would appear if they ever crossed. They would be full of silent anger that was trapped in a storm of blue and gray. His eyes would probably even show Seifer how much loathing the brunet had for him. It would never show the faint gaze of questioning like that man's eyes..

Shattering back to reality, Seifer stared back at the blue gray eyes that regarded him in question. The prince looked over the rest of the man, making sure to see dark hair and pale skin—and one crimson scar slashing diagonally between those eyes. Seifer grimaced and shifted his gaze to the ground as guilt washed over him. He knew that mark was created by his own hands; he accepted that truth.

Seifer had done it in order to break the spell that Rinoa had cast on Squall, yet it seemed there had been no such thing. Squall had been the perfect being, but of course Seifer had to go and ruin it all.

It's not so bad..

He lifted his head to look at the scar again, but Squall had become invisible once again. Instead of vainly searching by looks, Seifer took a different approach to find the other, "Squall!"

A man stopped in the line. Seifer fixed his jade eyes onto the individual—finding that it was the owner of the name. He frowned and slowly began to trek over to the brunet. He kept his eyes glued on Squall, determined not to lose him to the crowd a second time. Another worker in the line bumped into Squall, catching the brunet off guard. Stumbling forward, Squall ran into the worker in front of him and proceeded to knock the other over. White rocks spilled out over the ground.

Squall extended a hand to help the other up when suddenly a hand seized his shoulder and flung him around. Seifer blinked then shifted his gaze to the new figure; a burly guard whose attention had been drawn by the sound of falling stones. "Are you causing trouble boy?"

Squall didn't respond, naturally. He turned his head aside, sparing a glance to Seifer. The prince saw that the brunet was currently blaming him for this incident. Seifer snorted—it was not his fault.

"I said are you causing trouble?" The guard barked while reaching for the whip at his waist.

"Stop it," Seifer called out, expecting the scene to end at once—but this time his words went unheard.

"Do you need to be taught a lesson?" the guard roughly shook Squall's shoulder with one hand, as the other raised the short whip. Squall didn't respond still. Every slave knew that no matter how much you apologized, pleaded, or explained; it never stopped the whip from biting into flesh.

"I said stop!" Seifer shouted as he began to approach the two. A fire was building in his vibrant green eyes as he watched the guard continue to assault Squall. The armed man pushed Squall's shoulder, making the brunet turn around so bare back was visible. The whip was raised higher and Squall tensed for the coming blow.

"You idiot, I said stop!" Seifer bellowed as he rushed up to the pair. He seized the guard's upraised arm in a loose grip. "Leave him alone."

The guard must have been either deaf or blind—perhaps both, because he turned on Seifer while tearing his arm out of the blonde's grasp. He wore an expression that the prince recognized to be the very same one he would wear whenever an underling mistreated him. "You mangy slave, how dare you touch me!"

Seifer was not prepared to be attacked by the guard. He suddenly found his head jerking to the side with a hard blow from the large man. Seifer stepped back, stunned at what the other had done. No one hit him, no one! Growling madly at this newfound anger, Seifer flung himself at the man with a rage he never knew he possessed.

The guard had been raising the whip to lash Seifer like he would any other troublesome slave, but was slightly surprised to find the blonde practically on top of him. Seifer seized the man's arm for a second time, grabbing for the leather whip. They wrestled for a moment, both strong and trying to shove the other back into submission.

Seifer's fingers curled around the whip and twisted it out of the man's hand. He then brought his knee up into the other's crotch. The guard instantly surrendered the whip and double while retreating a step or two in pain. Before he had a chance to find his voice and call out for help, Seifer was at him again. The blonde tightly wrapped the thick leather whip around the man's neck. The guard fumbled with his stout fingers, blindly trying to pull the coils away.

"Seifer.." A voice broke through the anger. It sounded distant, more like a whisper; but it was enough to reach through to the prince.

Seifer eyes focused as the fire in the jade orbs was extinguished. He lifted his gaze to find an alarmed Squall watching. The blind fury was gone. Seifer quickly back away from his violent act. The guard fell to his knees, pried the whip away and proceeded to suck in gasps of air.

Seifer's went back to meet with two cobalt eyes spliced by a red scar. At first Seifer wanted to smile knowing the other had called him by name for the first time. Instead he twisted away from the stare and only managed to deeply frown.

"I—" Seifer started but was cut off by a heavy hand on his shoulder. Dirty fingers dug savagely into his skin. Seifer turned to see the angry guard at his side. What was with this man—did he not see that he was attacking his own prince?

The guard pulled back and downward at the same time. He brought his leg up to the back of Seifer's legs to ensure the blonde fell straight to the hard ground. Seifer's head poked over the side of the gorge. Jade eyes went wide when he glanced down into the quarry. He didn't realize that they were so close to the edge, or how close he had come to plummeting down to the rocks below; a certain death.

"You wretched dog!" The guard spat, literally; Seifer felt the drops of moisture sprinkle on his face. A short sword was draw as the whip laid forgotten in the dirt. The guard made the short charge to the fallen blonde and swung wildly with the steel.

Seifer's leg came up, his foot connecting with the man's stomach. The guard grunted but pressed forward with his initial momentum. The sword still came down, linking with the top of Seifer's knee. Steel hit bone making the blonde cry out in a mixture of pain and anger. Seifer then brought up his other leg to join the first in order to kick the man away. However, the guard was not a lightweight to be pushed around so easily. The man raised the sword again with a determined mind to strike the blonde's head.

Seifer's legs buckled under the other's weight, thus causing the guard to stumble forward unbalanced. The prince then suddenly pushed his legs straight; this completely knocked the man off foot—but not in the desired direction. The guard went over the top of the blonde and went falling over the side of the gorge. He loudly cried out just before hitting the rocks with a dull thud.

Seifer remained frozen to the ground. His knee throbbed but the pain was distant. He knew what had happened, but it was all like a dream. Slowly he moved his stiff limbs and climbed into a standing position; making sure to adjust his weight to rest on his good leg. The rest of the quarry had stopped dead after the guard's scream. Every pair of eyes watched as the prince edged forward to glimpse down into the quarry. After viewing the body below, Seifer jolted backwards.

"I didn't mean to.." he muttered to the still air. Jade eyes sought out Squall; who was found standing nearby as impassively as ever. Squall knew that Seifer had not meant to kill the guard—he could vouch for him!

But why should he?

Squall began to raise a hand, lips parting to speak. Seifer quickly withdrew from the brunet in a way that seemed he was afraid the other was going to attack as well. Everyone had seen what he did. Seifer was a guilty man of murder, and there was no reason to believe his innocence. These people would all say he was a vicious monster—what would his father think when he learned about this?

Seifer turned and hurried through the crowd of onlookers in a fit of panic. He moved as fast as his wounded leg would allow. The prince was finished. There was nothing here for him any longer. It would all be over as soon as his father caught wind of the accident. Seifer didn't want to face the shame or the punishment—he already felt the disgrace and he would devise his own condemnation instead of wait for it to come from the ruthless voice of his father.

He would choose exile. Out there in the desert there would be no one to judge him with silent eyes. He was a coward to run, but he knew and accepted this.

I'm weak. I was never meant to be his son..

The foolish blonde fled, leaving a small trail of sand coated blood behind him. He was so lost in his mind that he did not hear the voice calling out his name.

End Chapter.


Author's Note: Thank you all for the support and reviews /kis!. Keep up the long reviews Faery! 3, I love to know what people thought while they read the chapter. I hope to tie everything together in a nice little bow, but I'm thinking that it will all make even more sense with the sequel. I evilly plan to leave you all hanging at the end of this story. Mwahah! And now it is time for a character change, let's see the world from someone else's perspective, eh? :3

Also, don't mind how the story kind of has indentations, then suddenly doesn't. Something screwy happens when I upload it..