The butt of Squall's gunblade cracked against his skull and sent Seifer reeling back in agony. Sight blurred by the blinding light of a thousand blinking stars, he felt as if he was floating and was vaguely aware that he might fall down. Cold metal greeted him as he landed on the floor of the float. His mind was filled with a deep gray fog, clouding all rational thought and threatening to drag him into unconsciousness. He fought to stay awake, focusing on the pain he felt to keep his mind rooted in the here and now. A rivulet of blood trickled down his forehead, and with great effort he reached a hand up to wipe it away. Seifer winced and drew back his hand, which was covered in his own blood. Squall had dealt him quite a blow. He'd have to pay him back in kind. A breathless chuckle came from his prone form, causing a small but agonizing wave of pain to ripple through him. His face crumpled in on itself and he gritted his teeth until it passed. Seifer groaned tiredly, rolling on his back with a hand to his brow. He had to get up, he was wasting precious time.

It occurred to him that Squall hadn't gone in for the kill. He was lying here, completely incapacitated. Where was his rival? An alarm rang in his head. Squall might be going after his sorceress again, he had to get up. Yet his body would still not respond. Frustrated, he grunted and punched the floor with his balled fist. The strange muted sounds of the world came back, and he could here absolute chaos was reigning. With a roar, Seifer forced himself up, ignoring the mind numbing pain in his temple. His pain didn't matter, he had to make sure his sorceress was alright. Stumbling to his feet, he looked around blearily. He turned to face her, eyes still thick and foggy from his head injury. Edea regarded him and her lip curled into a smirk. She stood with her arm outstretched, turning her gaze from him to the end of the float. The woman wavered on her feet a little and Seifer realized that she must have defended herself with her own magic. He felt a sudden pang of guilt for not being there for her. She relied on him, he was her knight. He had been foolish to underestimate Leonhart. Something he would not do again. The sorceress sighed, lightly sitting down on her throne to rest. He made as if to go to her, but she shook her head. Reptilian eyes indicating that he should go to the back of the float. I have something to show you. She whispered to him telepathically.

Still holding his head, Seifer acquiesced and staggered towards the end of the float. He could hear sobbing, it was quite soft but as he came closer he could hear it more clearly. It was a familiar sound, one that he'd been the cause of far too often.

Rinoa had always been his moral compass. That's what drew him to her, she always seemed to know the right course of action at any given time. His entire life he'd always felt directionless, but once he met her, he felt as if his life gained purpose. She knew the road and she would lead him across it. He managed to screw things up from time to time. Doing or saying stupid things that made her angry, or worse sad. Nothing in the world was worse than the sound of her crying. When she cried it sounded like her whole world was ending, and the protective streak in Seifer disliked seeing her in such pain.

So it was with great regret when he broke up with her. Though he felt that word was too strong. Really, he just wanted to take a break. They were moving far too fast, in his opinion. There were too many problems and unresolved differences in their relationship. If they were to have gone on, they'd have to grow up a little, find ways of solving the many arguments they had between them.

He'd planned a little talk, which didn't go well at all. Rinoa got angry, and perhaps with reason. Seifer admittedly was rather bad when it came to explaining himself. His foot was permanently in his mouth when it came to her. Still, he felt she understood and when he left, he'd hoped they'd stay friends. In fact, he'd hoped that after a period of a couple of months, perhaps they could give it another go. He'd be a SeeD by then, with power and respect. Everything was to be perfect. But it wasn't. Those months passed and then she met Squall at the graduation dance, instead of him. It seemed that his career at Garden was speckled with such occurrences.

Peering over the edge, he could see Rinoa's slight form trembling as she wept. Cradled in her lap was Squall's limp body, her slender arms embracing him. She sobbed as he breathed his last and Seifer could feel his blood as it turned cold. She wept for Squall. For Squall. Seifer saw red, his fists clenched and unclenched in righteous fury.

Squall, everyone loved Squall. The little bastard. He was always better, always stealing his thunder. From the minute the little pouf showed up, he'd been a thorn in Seifer's side.

Before, Seifer had been the golden boy, despite his many disciplinary problems. From day one, Seifer had problems with authority. It was because Garden insisted on a system where if you were older, respect was supposed to be given. This was a dogma that Seifer didn't believe in. If you wanted his respect, you had to earn it and being older than him was not the way to do it.

Seifer was the bad boy, but the bad boy who got excellent grades, the bad boy who could handle a gunblade. He was good at what he did. Seifer had passion, a trait that Headmaster Cid himself applauded him for. Of course, he wished that Seifer could control it more, but one cannot tell the wind where to gust. Then came Squall. He got more than just excellent grades, he was nearly perfect. He was so intelligent, that the administration ended up bumping him up one grade. The lessons for his age group weren't challenging enough. This alone made Seifer take an almost instant dislike to him. Of course, it wasn't just the boy's superior intelligence that furthered his hate.

Where Seifer was belligerent, Squall was impassive. This instantly meant that more attention was paid to Squall, as everyone wanted to pull him from his shell. Whereas, they just wanted Seifer to shut up. Especially Quistis, who at one time doted on Seifer but quickly turned her attention to Squall.

And as if to add insult to injury, Squall chose the gunblade as his primary weapon, and thus became the darling of the entire class. The only thing that made it bearable, was despite Squall's superior skill with the blade, he lacked the passion to wield it. Seifer had always had the upper hand because of this. Squall's blows were precise, but without emotion to guide them, there was no power. Seifer was less skilled, but ultimately he won more often because he put all of his emotions into the fight. He used them as fuel, and his blows while uncoordinated struck harder and faster for it.

It was strange that he hated Squall, yet looked forward to sparring with him. Their matches had often ended in stalemates. A situation that Seifer was unused to. He'd always been the best. Now it seemed that Squall might be better, in the end he was just as good. Which had annoyed Seifer, because he never got any better. And if Squall didn't improve, neither did he. Squall took no joy in battle, and so Seifer began to get frustrated. Purposefully antagonizing Squall, trying desperately mold him into a worthy rival. Not just some average milk sop. The boy never improved in that regard, rarely showing flashes of any kind of emotion on the battlefield or anywhere else for that matter.

Until this last fight. Squall had passion now, stolen passion. Rinoa was his passion. Seifer saw the look in his eye when she jumped up on the float. The flicker of fire in those cold depths, the way he pulled them forward in a fury Seifer had never seen. It angered and frightened him, and at that moment he came to a sudden realization. Seifer began to wonder if he was on the right side, was first amongst these. Looking down on the corpse of his rival, a sight he should revel in yet it gave him no joy.

The second realization was, that in his own way he respected Squall. He could never like him, but Squall was the only person in his whole life to ever challenge him. Now that was gone. A shadow of regret passed his face before it was replaced by sudden nausea. Seifer came back to the world, mindful of the pounding pain of his head that had renewed its assault on his thoughts. He wavered for a moment, before the black of unconsciousness claimed him.

Seifer was pulled from the darkness in one violent, pain filled rush. He'd been unconscious for an hour, and in that time had been taken to the hospital. In shock and comatose, the emergency room doctors had begun treatment with minimal anesthetics. It was this that brought him so sudden wakefulness. Seifer howled in rage, nearly clocking the surprised resident who'd been suturing the gash in his head. His face pinched, Seifer glared at the intern. The anger in his blue-green eyes clearly evident, softening somewhat as he noted the proper amount of fear had been instilled.

"Well?" he snapped impatiently, "Finish it..."

The little resident blinked in bewilderment, before timidly beginning her ministrations again. As she guided the stitches in and out of his flesh, he couldn't help but grimace in pain. Gritting his teeth, he made no sound. Noting instead that he wasn't in a regular emergency room bed. He seemed to have a room to himself, and he couldn't help but smile a little. It was good to be a Sorceress's Knight. Edea was undoubtedly responsible for this and once again, he couldn't be more grateful for her kindness. Though he feared what reprisals she had in store for him for his failure at the parade. Her punishment for disobedience was cruel, and he hardly liked to think of it. A few times he'd been foolish enough to question her, and she had made him regret it. She had a particular knack for finding his most painful memories. And once she found them, she held him there, to experience them again and again in mind numbing agony. It was the kind of hell one would never want to experience more than once, akin to having your mind raped. And it had already happened to Seifer twice. He was not looking forward to his next meeting with Edea, not looking forward to it at all.

These thoughts had been put on hold as events outside his room diverted his interest. He could hear the sounds of a scuffle in the hallway and being something of a rubbernecking fiend, he was curious as to what the ruckus was. Almost thinking of throwing off the resident to see what was going on. Shrugging, he decided better of it. He was tired and the girl was almost finished, best to get it over with in one go. The sounds of struggle became louder, until they were right in front of his door.

"WAIT! YOU CAN'T GO IN THERE! IT'S RESTRICTED! THAT'S GENERAL ALMASY'S PRIVATE ROOM YOU CAN'T JUST....HEY!"

A shove could be heard, and a voice shouted back throatily, "MOVE!"

Seifer smiled, he recognized the tone and timber of that voice. Clasping his arms behind his neck, he waited. The nurse squeaked back in protest. A thump was heard shortly thereafter. Fujin and Raijin burst into the room, large grins on their faces when they saw their friend. Seifer peered behind them at the now unconscious nurse and gave them a satisfied smirk. There were no loud greetings, no hugs exchanged, merely a vast rainbow of non-verbal communication.

The disciplinary committee had never been known for having deep wells of emotion. They never wore their hearts on their sleeves, but there was always an unspoken respect for one another. They had been brought together because they shared similar goals and ideals. Amongst them was never showing weakness. Over wrought displays of affection were for the timid who feared death and loss, it was behavior that was unfitting for warriors. Better to regard each other with quiet dignity and respect. Yet Seifer had to say he was glad to see his friends. They represented familiarity and he found that it was something he'd longed for without even knowing it.

Fujin was the first to approach him, daring to break the silence, "SEIFER, OKAY?"

She wore a look of deep concern, her one ruby eye flickering with wetness unspent. Fujin was worried for Seifer, quite worried. Raijin had always been rather thick and so it'd been easy for her to convince him to help look for Seifer. What he didn't realize was what trouble their leader might have gotten himself into. Sure, Fujin disliked Garden's policies, but she was unsure turning against them was the right move. She had hoped to talk sense in her leader, but once there, she had lost the words. Cursing herself for not writing them down.

It was a little known fact that Fujin was almost completely deaf in both ears. She wasn't completely without hearing, however, she could hear very loud sounds and some mid-range sounds--though they were quite fuzzy and hard to catch. So she relied on lip reading to catch the words she might miss. Because of this defect she'd found it hard to speak normally. Her voice in normal speech was feeble and unable to form words properly. When she was younger, she'd been teased mercilessly. To try and remedy this she took to speaking only a few words at a time, spending hours learning how to pronounce selected bits of vocabulary perfectly--albeit rather loudly. She had still been teased for her monosyllabic speech pattern, but it was better than letting others on to her disability.

The only people who knew were Raijin, because he was her older brother, and Seifer, who'd been the only student at Garden who had ever been kind to her--of course, Doctor Kadowaki knew but Fujin had never given a damn what the doctor thought. She'd never expected anyone to treat her differently because she had been born with a disability. Seifer had respected her for her fighting prowess, for her fearlessness, and never ridiculed her odd way of speaking. For this, she was absolutely loyal to him. She'd follow him to the end of the earth.

"Fuj? You okay?" Seifer queried, giving her a curious glance as she hadn't answered his last two questions.

"FINE. YOU?" Fujin shook her head, embarrassed he caught her daydreaming.

"Yeah, great. Except for the gaping wound in my head."

"Looks bad." Raijin piped up, "Where'd ya get it?"

"Squall. Clocked me with the butt of his gunblade."

"Squall?" Fujin asked, her voice quieting.

She had heard many odd rumors over the last few weeks. That Seifer had changed sides was one of the oddest and this new tidbit of information disturbed her. Squall had long been Seifer's rival, or perhaps it was the other way around. Fujin could never really keep it straight. The only thing she did know was that she hadn't cared much for Squall. Though she respected him for his ability to control his emotions, a trait they shared, she couldn't help but hate his inability to think for himself. Squall was a rule monger and a kiss ass, he played Garden's game without question. He took no pride in the warrior's code and what beauty could be glimpsed in his fighting form was dispelled by his own dispassion. It was an insult to those who took bushido seriously.

Seifer had felt the same way and his path through Garden had been peppered with skirmishes with Squall. That he had a wound from the boy was no surprise. However, the fact that he had a wound, here and now, was. Squall was a SeeD now and had been assigned to some secret mission here in Deling. So how in the seven hells had the two warriors crossed paths and had enough time to get into a serious scrape?

Her only answer was that the rumors were true. Seifer had switched sides. He was no longer with Garden and had joined the Sorceress. Fujin felt like aiming one of her pinwheels at her own head, how could she be so stupid? The signs were so obvious. They'd called him General Almasy. General. And it had been one of his dreams to be like the knights of old. Finding a fair sorceress to protect, holding to the old codes of honor and duty. Add to that his pending expulsion...and you got a recipe for completely lunacy.

Fujin fidgeted, unable to decide how to approach Seifer on the subject. Simultaneously she debated on how to communicate all that she needed to. Speaking was out of the question, as her vocabulary in that area was decidedly lacking. Raijin couldn't be trusted to translate all that she said, even if written down. She'd have to engage in an activity she frowned on. THIL-Trabia Hand Indicative Language. It was a system that had been created in Trabia for deaf students to communicate by using a combination of hand gestures and body language.

To use it was an admittance of her disability and in her eyes, submitting to weakness. Both Seifer and Raijin had taken the time to learn it, hoping to encourage Fujin to utilize it more. They both were of the opinion that she tried too hard to hide her disability, and had tried on many occasions to convince her that being deaf wasn't something to be ashamed of.

They didn't have to live in her shoes. Neither of them knew what it was like to live in a world full of sound that you couldn't hear. She was cut off from an important, dare she say, essential, aspect of the world. That didn't mean she wanted to be pitied, she didn't want to be view as handicapped nor did she relish the thought of all the ridicule she'd have to endure. It was bad enough with the speech impediment. However, at this one moment clarity was more important than pride.

Tugging on Seifer's arm to get his attention, she began. Her fingers flickering gracefully as she formed individual words, her mouth moving mutely as she signed, "Seifer, why were you and Squall fighting?"

He signed back, carefully, "He got in the way."

"In the way of what?" she paused, waiting for him to reply but he didn't. He only stared at her with faraway eyes. Fujin made a strangled grunt and she signed furiously, "Damn it, Seifer! What's going on? We've heard rumors you're with the Sorceress. That you've turned your back on Garden." another pause, again he said nothing, "Tell me. We have a right to know. Have you joined with the Sorceress?"

"Yes."

Disbelief flooded her, and once more her hands flickered out, more rapidly than before, "Are you crazy?! The woman's dangerous! I've been checking up on her...do you have any idea what she's planning? She's going to attack Garden, not one...but all of them and once they're gone, she's heading for Esthar. It's the sorceress war all over again. You're still Garden for God's sake, even if...."

Slowly, he signed back, his face cold and emotionless. Seifer had become a distant mirror of his rival, his expression so much like Squall in manner and appearance, it frightened Fujin, "I'm not from Garden nor have I ever been."

"What... do you mean by that?"

"Squall's dead. The Sorceress killed him."

"How do you know that?"

"I was there, by her side. I watched him die."

Fujin licked her lips before replying, her mind reeling. Was this the man she'd known for the last ten years? "Why? Why didn't you do anything?! Squall...he was one of us. You just stood there and let her kill him?! What the hell is wrong with you? Seifer, you have to get away from her...you have to..."

He cut her off, his hands cutting the air aggressively as he signed, his face twisted with anger, "Nothing's wrong with me. Squall got what he deserved. He came there to assassinate her, she simply killed him before he got the chance. And I won't leave her. I'm her Knight and I've sworn to give my life to protect her."

"Why? WHY WOULD YOU DO SUCH A THING? Don't you realize she's just using you. This is no benevolent sorceress from some fairytale. She intends to repeat history. To follow in Adel's bloody footsteps. Whatever she's promised you, it's not enough for you to damn your own soul."

"She's promised me nothing."

"Bullshit. Don't play make believe. You can't lie to me. She's promised you something. The Seifer I know wouldn't follow someone so blindly." Fujin's brow knit tightly as she signed, individual signs flipping by so fast it was quite hard for Seifer to follow, "You aren't doing this for some noble ideal, you're doing it because she offered you power in exchange for your obedience. I know that Garden's cluster fucked you, but that doesn't mean you should throw away your life. Come back, it's not too late. Cid is still willing to..."

"Fuck you and fuck Cid. My place is by her side."

"Seifer, listen to Fujin, ya know. She's right...the Sorceress is crazy...she'll..."

"Oh, the moron speaks. Please, illuminate me with your pathetic attempts at thought. What the hell can Garden offer me? Nothing. That's what. What can it offer any of us? It's a waste of fucking time..."

Fujin signed back in open rejection, "Garden offers a future. This Witch offers nothing but death for millions of innocents."

Seifer snorted, his movements becoming deliberately slow, something he only did when he wanted to be particularly cruel, "Garden offers you a future? What kind of future would that be, Fuj? Do you honestly think Garden would accept either of you into its folds? Do you think they'll let Raijin make SeeD? Do you think they'll let you make SeeD? It'll be a cold day in hell before that happens, you and I both know it."

"Shut. UP." She signed.

Seifer grinned, not relenting, "I bet they wouldn't even grant you an instructorship."

"Shut UP!!"

"Maybe, you can work in the cafeteria, slogging hotdogs to all the NORMAL students...you know, who can hear."

"SHUT UP!"

"Really, Fuj. It's only the truth. Who'd want a deaf, cycloptic, near mute for an instructor? You can barely speak for fuck's sake. Garden will NEVER hire you. You are a useless pile of carbon and water. If you were a puppy, I'd stick you in a sack and drown you." Seifer gave her a cruel smile as he stopped signing and brought a hand to his mouth so that she was unable to see what he said next.

Fujin trembled, hot tears stinging her single eye. She had no way of knowing what he had actually said, but she could make several educated guesses. Being an albino, her hair was a natural white as was her skin, her eye a bright crimson, add to that her physical disability. There was only one thing he could say that would really hurt her. Freak, he'd called her a freak or some variation thereof. It was a base insult but it still stung, as the moniker had haunted her since she was very small.

Seifer's eyes danced with amusement as he watched the pain his insult wrought. It was always fun to watch him do this to other people but he had never inflicted it on one of his own. Somehow Fujin kept it under control, she would not show her weakness, especially in front of him. She closed her eye tightly and clenching her fists at her sides, she looked down because if she had to look at him, she'd loose it. An uncomfortable silence filled the room for a time. After a moment of pensive thought, Seifer broke the silence.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, moving over to Fujin, he lifted her head up so that she could see his face, "Fuj...I'm said I'm sorry. I've been stressed out. I-I can't go back. I've gone too far, but it's not too late for you two. Go back to Garden."

"NO."

"Fuj, don't be stubborn. I'll be fine. This is my dream, not yours."

Fujin looked at him, one crimson eye glistening with determination. She spoke, haltingly, "I....want...to s-stay. Help."

"Me too." Raijin piped up, "There ain't no place for me at Garden, ya know. I'd rather follow you anyway."

Seifer smiled broadly, a relieved laugh left his lips. It felt like a weight had been lifted, even if it was only briefly. All these lonely weeks, there had been little in the way of normalcy. Everything had seemed so surreal, as if he was living some other person's life. When his friends had entered, talking of Garden and the future, it had angered him. There was a deep pit in his soul, he felt it and it was widening. The noble parts of him were fading away, and they had reminded him of their loss. Fujin and Raijin were in his mind, part of another life. One where he didn't have such dark ambition, where the sky was blue and cloudless. In a sense, he understood that he was falling into darkness and was unable to stop it. He was like a babe, drowning in the ocean.

Having his friends near brought back the feeling that his life was his own, that it belonged to him and him alone. It didn't, not anymore, but to feel that freedom -- it had been nice.

Seifer had done his research on being a sorceress's knight and he understood the demanding nature of the job. He had never expected it to dominate so much of his time and energy, nor did he expect it to consume his soul as it had. Loosing himself in the wash of power the Sorceress gave him.

Fujin gazed at Seifer, watching him as his face flickered in thought. She had always been a keen observer of the human face and she had the unnerving ability to read someone by the subtlest of their expressions. She would stay by his side, even though she could see him slipping through her fingers. He was bent on pursuing this madman's dream that would ultimately end in his ruin. So lost, so lost. Fujin shook her head imperceptibly as pushed a flood of emotion from the surface. How do you save a drowning man without succumbing yourself?

Fujin wrestled with this thought, coming up with nothing. There was no way to save him, unless of course, she made a devil's deal. She'd have to betray him and ask Garden for help. That was unquestionably a bad idea and she refused to give up the only person who'd ever believed in her. She was his right hand girl, wasn't she? Fujin didn't feel it, and doubt nestled in her mind. She had to save him -- had to, though she didn't know when or even how, she would. Even if it meant her own downfall.

The doors burst open and a soldier stepped in, looking curiously at the still unconscious nurse before stepping over him and running up to Seifer.

"Sir, we have a...situation." The soldier said, looking over with suspicion at the General's two companions.

"Don't worry. They're alright. Old friends." Seifer paused, brow furrowed, "So, what is it?"

"Problem at the city morgue."

Seifer gave the guard a strange look, "Ah-hah. Can it wait?"

"No."

"Being in the morgue I think it could."

"Not really, sir. It's actually of an urgent nature."

"Yeah...And? Unless it's the zombie holocaust, I don't care. Let someone lower on the bean pole handle it. Piss off." Seifer said, a sarcastic edge to his voice.

The guard was not dissuaded and leaned in to whisper something to Seifer, who reacted with instantaneous attention. He grabbed the soldier by the collar and pulled him close.

"Are you sure?" The soldier nodded, and Seifer let him go with a dirty look, "Why the hell didn't you tell me in the first place?!" With a sigh, he rubbed his temples, "Before I go, I'd like you to arrange a special escort for my friends here. Show them to the palace, set them up in with a couple of guest suites. One of the really nice ones."

"Yes, sir." The guard saluted and ran off to carry out his order.

Seifer turned back to his friends with a tired smile, "No rest for the weary. We'll talk more later. Gotta go..."

"Seifer, what is it, ya know?" Raijin asked in an odd moment of lucidity.

"Leonhart's alive."

"HOW?" Fujin exclaimed.

"Who the fuck knows?! Well, I guess I will, eventually...but...."

"DETAILS. LATER" Fujin cut him off, kindly realizing the pressure her friend was already under.

"Right, later." Seifer nodded and with a wave, left his friends behind.

Seifer gingerly stepped around the fallen nurse to enter the hallway. He made his way to the hospital's front desk to take the phone call from the coroner's office. The conversation was short and sweet as he arranged for Leonhart to be transferred via airlift from the morgue to the desert prison's infirmary. He would meet the transport there by helicopter as Seifer was not in a mood to wait. There were answers that he needed and he'd never been a patient man.

His mind was clouded in an angry, red mist and no matter how hard he tried to clear it, it would not dissipate. This failure only angered him further because he realized that he'd need clarity if he wanted to obtain the answers he searched for. The ensuing investigation was already looking to be one of those meticulous things that he despised. His uncontrollable passion and over-emotionality would only serve to hamper things and he knew it. Seifer knew himself and in knowing himself, he was aware that he was not a stickler for detail. Never had the patience or dedicated calm for it.

That had always been Squall's arena. One of the few things Seifer had admired about the boy. Squall had unnervingly keen intelligence and a cool demeanor, no matter the situation. It gave him the advantage of being able to size up difficult situations like this without getting ruffled. Perhaps Squall should be handling the investigation into his own death and resurrection. Seifer couldn't help but chuckle at the irony in that thought as he stared pensively out the window.

Less than a quarter of an hour later the helicopter touched down, blades cutting the air in slow concentric rhythm before coming to a stop. Seifer stepped out onto the platform, gray trench coat rippling in the arid, desert wind. He scanned the vast horizon, the sun just peeking above the rock formations silhouetted in the distance. The sky had turned bright gold and orange in the morning light, and Seifer sighed in resignation. Running a hand through his hair, he smirked, putting everything he had into the lie. Radiating confidence that plainly wasn't there, it was all for show. But he supposed that was the point, wasn't it?

Seifer was immediately shown to the infirmary to speak with the doctor in charge. Dr. T.J. Eckleberg greeted the Sorceress's Knight with on the surface warmth but Seifer cold sense the nervousness behind his calm demeanor. He wondered if it was him the doctor was afraid of or the strangeness of Leonhart's death. Seifer decided it was probably both.

The doctor was a short man and looked to be young for someone in his position. There was a boyish air about him, so much so that he looked years younger than his twenty-nine years. Seifer thought that if he'd been faced with Dr. Eckleberg in a hospital setting that he'd ask for another doctor. Perhaps someone who'd already been through puberty. As the mousy little man hardly looked capable enough to change a light bulb but then again, appearances were often deceiving.

Shaking hands and offering greetings, the doctor showed him into his private office.

"So. Let's get down to business, Doc. What the hell happened?" Seifer began, slumping into his chair with his hands resting comfortably on his chest, trying his best to radiate casual cool.

"You don't waste time." The doctor commented, humorlessly.

"No. I don't. So...get on with it."

The doctor paused dramatically and then launched into his story. It had happened just after the coroner had set up his tape, as he had done for every autopsy he'd done for the last thirty years. Snapping on a pair of rubber gloves he'd begun the external examination, clip board in hand.

"Male, Caucasian. Age, approximately seventeen or eighteen. Height, 5'8..." The coroner's voice echoed into the tape recorder, and as he came to the subject's weight, the body on the table twitched.

This didn't phase the coroner in the least. Corpses often twitched like that as the nerves in the body fired off any excess energy that had been left after death. It was a common, if a bit creepy, occurrence. His examination continued without pause until the body twitched again, this time more violently. Seeming more like a seizure than a mere twitch. The arms and legs suddenly jerking to semi-life, its shoulders rising and falling with a dull clank on the stainless steel autopsy table. This stopped the pathologist cold and for a moment he stared, his heart hammering like a drum. With a sigh, he decided to go on, though in his years in the coroner's office, he'd never seen a body do something like that. He moved over to the corpse in an attempt to weigh it but before he could, it jumped to life again. This time more violent than the last. The arms flailed out, grabbing the sides of the table only to let them go moments later. The body convulsing on the table, its head pushing back onto the metal surface. Its eyes opened and closed, face twisted in mock agony. This was not normal. Alarms went off in the pathologist's head and unconsciously he backed away, his eyes riveted to the writhing thing on his autopsy table.

The corpse continued to seize, its arms dangling over the side of the table as its back arched and in one violent rush, it threw itself forward. It, no, he sat bolt upright and with one long inhalation, he gasped for air. This sudden intake caused the newly revived young man to nearly choke on a series of rasping coughs before slumping back onto the table.

Quiet settled in the sterile room and the coroner did his best to still his frantically beating heart. With great caution, he moved over to the former corpse, wondering if he'd imagined the entire thing. He hadn't gotten much rest in the last few days and he thought logically that this might just be some sleep deprived hallucination. As he approached the boy he could plainly see the slight rise and fall of his chest. His hands trembled as he reached out and gently touched two fingers to the boy's neck. The skin was still cool but warmth was gradually returning and the sickly yellow tint of his skin subtly turned to pink. The strange glow of sudden life returning to his pale cheeks. If that wasn't enough, the steady pulse beneath the pathologist's fingertips could not be denied.

Seifer stared at Doctor Eckelberg before interrupting his narrative, "I find this tale of magic and mystery fascinating but skip to the god damned point. Why is he alive, who would or could do something like this and how?"

The doctor shook his head, his eyes glazed in professional confusion, "That's just it. We don't know exactly why he's alive. It's quite the conundrum actually." the doctor paused long enough to pull out several files and photos, which he laid out for Seifer to see. "But we have figured out how it was accomplished. Preliminary tests on blood and tissue samples all came back normal, with only one small irregularity. Further testing showed a high concentration of legerderin absorbed into the blood and tissue. The highest amounts found around the puncture wound in the shoulder region."

"Uh-huh. Okay, say that again and this time in a language humans speak."

The doctor gave him an annoyed glance, but continued as if he was talking to a simpleton, "Legerderin is a compound used in the manufacture of para-magic."

Seifer interrupted again, "Wait, you're telling me he was revived by magic? That's fucking bullshit. Life spells can't bring you back from the grave. They can bring you back from the brink, but once you're dead you're out of luck. Any first year cadet at Garden could tell you that."

"Yes, I was getting to that. As I was saying." The doctor interjected with an irritated cough, "Legerderin is the compound that makes up most para-magic. It's also used as a catalyst in Guardian Force fusion. The compound itself isn't normally found in nature, it's synthetic--man made. Manufactured by the Odine corporation. However, the legerderin found in patient three fourteen's system was completely natural. The substructure of the compound was quite similar to the manufactured version but.."

"Natural? What the fuck? Seriously...What. The. Fuck? I want something concrete, doctor, and you're still giving me some line of bullshit fairy story. There is NO way any kind of magic, natural or no, would cause someone to rise from the dead. I saw Leonhart. He was fucking dead. He was a stiff. Dead as a doornail. He expired and went to meet his maker! Bereft of life, he passed on. He shuffled off his mortal coil, and ran down the curtain to join the bleedin' choir invisible!! He was one dead fucking parrot. AND now you tell me that someone stuck forty thousand volts in his ass and miracle of miracles, he lives? Bullshit. Pull another the other one, Eckelberg. I'm not biting."

"If you would allow me to explain, General." The doctor said, the condescension in his voice thick, "The synthetic version of legerderin was based entirely on the naturally occurring compound. However, there is only one source for natural legerderin."

"And that would be?"

"A sorceress, legerderin is a hormone found in the blood and tissue of a sorceress. It's what gives them their power, to be exact. At least, one of the few things we've found. So, this narrows down our field of who quite considerably." this was enough to catch Seifer's attention and keep him quiet, so much so that he sat and actually listened. Much to the doctor's relief, "I was inclined to believe it was our Sorceress, so we did more testing. Natural legerderin signatures are unique to the individual. We had to send the samples out to a source we have in Esthar. It was difficult, but they have the resources, over a thousand samples from various sorceresses throughout time are on file there. Edea was luckily listed with them. The sample came back negative. Our sorceress wasn't the one who did this. So that leaves us with a rather large question mark."

"Do we have any idea who it might be? A way to narrow it down? Perhaps those experts in Esthar can give us a name..."

"That's the thing. The sample was apparently quite rare, it belonged to a sect of sorceresses that are now extinct. Heraldic class was the term they used. The last of the line was said to have been wiped out in the conflict with Adel. So, the mystery deepens." The doctor stopped to look down at his documents before going on, "There is hope, however. Revivification was a specialty of heraldic sorceresses. However, the spells involved are complex. Requiring concentrated effort to cast, it's not something that could casually be done from afar. Whoever cast it would have had to have been close to the patient at the exact time of death in order for it to work."

"How close?"

"She'd have to be touching him. You said that you saw him, that you were sure he was dead. Was there anyone near him at the time?"

"No, there was no one." Seifer had to force his face to go slack, had to control the threat of a quaver in his voice.

"Strange." The doctor commented with a shrug of his shoulders, "Well, I suppose that's a mystery for you and the Deling City police to find out. Would you like to see him?"

"Yes."

The doctor led Seifer down a series of sterile hallways until they reached the infirmary proper. Squall had been given the only private room in the prison. It had been set up that way, as Seifer didn't want anyone to know that Leonhart was still alive. It was best that he stay dead, Garden needn't know of his rebirth, nor did they need to have hope that he might still be alive. Leonhart would soon be dead again anyway, after he was properly interrogated, of course. Seifer looked down at his rival, as he entered the room. Squall was a shadow of the young man he'd been. He looked positively sickly, his skin a ghostly white with dark circles underneath his closed lids. All manner of tubes and machines were hooked up to him as he slumbered, his head tilted to one side limply. Seifer noted the large gash on his right shoulder, it was for the most part healed, though the skin was still an angry pink. Undoubtedly that was where the sorceress had struck him and Seifer found himself amazed that the wound had healed over so quickly.

"How long?" Seifer asked the doctor.

"How long till what?"

"Till he's well enough to interrogate."

"Two weeks, more or less."

Seifer nodded, "Inform me the minute he's ready."

The doctor agreed and Seifer turned on his heel, leaving the room with purposeful strides. As he stormed down the hallway of D-district's infirmary, his coat trailing behind him, Seifer desperately tried to convince himself he was doing the right thing.

WOOT! Another chapter finished. And y'all thought I hated the discplinary commitee. Shame on you. I don't hate them. Squall does. Quistis does. I'm just writing what they feel, yo. Seriously, this was a fun chapter to write. Also, I'm sure y'all wanna kill me for denying you Squall for yet another chapter. I assure you, he will be back and soon. That is, once I've gotten over how to handle what I wanna do next chap. Anyways, stay frosty!

--Noa