FINAL FANTASY: POINT OF INTERSECTION
BOOK 1: THE APPROACHING STORM
CHAPTER 3
Squall paced restlessly on the Ragnarok's bridge, his boots thudding briskly
on the deck as the steady thrumming of the ship's engines filled his ears.
Outside the cockpit, the uneven, whitish-gray landscape of the Trabia snowfields
slid endlessly past as the ship flew low underneath the thick blanket of clouds
that hung in the early morning sky like long rolls of cotton.
No one on the bridge spoke, no one seemed to want to speak. Not that Squall blamed any of them, really. The tension hanging in the air was almost palpable, so thick that Squall thought he could have cut through it with his gunblade had he wanted to. He had experienced such tension more than once during the war with Ultimecia, but this time it was different.
Sis was gone.
Turning forward again in the midst of his pacing, Squall grimaced and sighed in frustration. Ellone had been in danger before, being so highly sought after as she was by Ultimecia before the future sorceress's defeat, but in those instances, Squall had known where to find her and who or what was threatening her. Now, however, he knew neither, only that she was lost out here in the snow somewhere. He wouldn't allow himself to think that he might already be too late. She was alive. She had to be.
Squall looked up from his thoughts and glanced tersely around the bridge. To his left, Kiros manned the navigation console. The slim, dark-skinned man gazed intently at the computer readouts, searching for any possible detection of human lifesigns. Just in front of the console, the silent giant known as Ward stared grimly out the portside cockpit window at the rugged, unfolding landscape of snow, ice, and rock in hopes of seeing anything out of the ordinary. On the starboard side, Quistis brushed a few stray strands of blond hair from her eyes as she kept watch with Zell, who with his clenched fists and loosely bent knees seemed to Squall like a tightly coiled spring ready to pounce.
Yo, Squall! he exclaimed suddenly, leaning intently toward the glass as he did so, I think I see something! It looks kinda weird
At Zell's pronouncement, Squall abruptly halted his pacing and turned to the front, where Selphie was skillfully flying the ship as Irvine looked on from the copilot's chair next to her. Selphie, see if you can bring us around for a closer look.
Okay, just a sec!
The deck tilted slightly under Squall's booted feet as the Ragnarok banked sharply to the right. When the ship completed its turn and began to descend, Squall quickly moved to join Zell and Quistis on the starboard side, gazing intently out the cockpit window to try and see whatever it was the energetic blond man had spoken of.
He almost wished he hadn't.
Zell let out a low whistle. Damn, that's a lotta blood
Spattered across the snow-dusted rocks of a broken hillside were large crimson smears of what could only be blood, though of what unfortunate being Squall could not immediately tell, so ripped apart were the remains. A knot of fear began to settle uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach as he continued to stare silently at the bloodstained slope. It couldn't be her. It couldn't be. It wasn't her. Just some unfortunate animal brutally slain by a wild predator, that's all.
Squall was lying to himself, and he knew it. Something had happened to Ellone, something terrible. He remembered vividly his last conversation with her yesterday morning, and the fear she had tried unsuccessfully to hide from him. It had shown itself in her eyes clearly enough, though. Never in his life had Squall seen her more frightened, more unsure of herself.
Looks like chocobo feathers Quistis murmured.
Indeed, as Squall continued to stare at the mangled remains, he could see that the blond instructor was right. Bright yellow feathers, many spattered with blood, lay scattered haphazardly amidst the bloodstained snow. Some of them tumbled about end over end down the slope, no doubt caught helplessly in the early morning wind. The sight chilled Squall, and the knot in his stomach tightened almost painfully.
Quistis looked tentatively at him, as if she didn't want to voice what everyone on the bridge was almost certainly thinking at that moment. Ellone was riding a chocobo, wasn't she?
With a grim sigh, Squall nodded. Early yesterday evening, he had stopped by Ellone's guest quarters as he had told her he would, but she hadn't been there. Remembering that she had visited with Selphie that morning, Squall had found the redheaded girl with little trouble and learned that Ellone had gone riding some time ago but had not yet returned. With worry gnawing relentlessly at him, he had spent several hours with his friends and other SeeDs on chocobos searching the snowfields for her. They had found nothing, though, and it had been with great reluctance that he had at last called it off for the night. He would have continued to search for her alone if need be, but the deepening cold and the black, lightless skies had made that impossible.
Selphie, set us down as close to that spot as you can, he ordered. I want to take a closer look.
She seemed not to hear him at first, her face gone uncharacteristically pale. D-Did you say chocobo feathers? A-And blood
Irvine gripped her shoulder firmly. Hey, it ain't your fault, Sefie, so don't worry about it, okay?
A-Alright. Sis is fine, though, isn't she? She's okay, right?
We won't know until we get down there, Squall replied pointedly.
Selphie gulped, nodded, and turned quickly back to the flight controls. Squall could see that her hands weren't entirely steady as she worked, but she managed to get the job done despite her trembling fingers. The ship began to descend further, and in a short time, there was a muffled thump from below as Selphie activated the landing gear.
Kiros, are you getting anything? Squall asked.
The dark-skinned man looked up from his console and shook his head. Nothing, Squall. If Ellone's still alive, I can't find her. There isn't anything else around here either except for what I'm guessing are a few scavengers picking at whatever's left of the chocobo.
She's alive, Squall insisted, his tone leaving no room for debate.
Kiros nodded. Let's hope so.
A slight bump from below signaled that the ship had at last set down. While Selphie busied herself shutting down the engines, Squall adjusted the thick coat he wore over the rest of his clothes. Like the others, he had come out here dressed for the cold, though only now was he actually shrugging on the thick black coat that he had draped earlier over the chair at the starboard weapons console. He carefully adjusted his belt and loosened his gunblade from its harness before turning to face the rest of his crew. Alright, everyone, let's go out there and see what's what.
Outside, the wind bit mercilessly at his ears and cheeks, playfully tossing around loose strands of his brown hair as the cold morning air worked its way into his fingers despite his thick leather gloves. Squall had never particularly liked the cold, never been able to see how people could stand to live in a place like this, where such brutal weather was a fact of life. Having spent most of his days on the sunny and pleasant island of Balamb farther south, where for most of the year temperatures seldom fell below seventy degrees, he had never experienced real cold until first coming up here to Trabia during the war. He had decided almost immediately that he hated it.
Brushing his thoughts aside, Squall carefully made his way down the hillside toward the remains of the chocobo, the others following cautiously after him. The slope wasn't very steep, but choked with ragged clumps of rock and slick with ice that made footing treacherous at times. Squall descended slowly, picking his way a step at a time until he was within a just few yards of the dead chocobo's remains.
Squall nearly gagged at the stench that rose up to his nostrils, one of death and the coppery tang of drying blood. His gaze rooted on the mangled carcass, he saw for the first time how viciously the bird had been killed. Blood and entrails lay scattered about the rocks and snow as little flurries of yellow feathers tumbled aimlessly about, and the splintered remnants of severed limbs lay brokenly like a jumble of discarded sticks and leaves. A few small white-furred wolves slunk sullenly away, disrupted from their feasting by the arrival of Squall and his companions.
Oh, man that stinks! Zell exclaimed vehemently, waving his hand vigorously in front of his nose as he came near with the others close behind. Squall glanced at him but said nothing, hardly able to disagree with his friend's assessment. He looked back up the hill to see that Selphie was lagging behind, trying to stay as far from the remains as possible, when her green eyes widened in dismay as they stared past him at the dead chocobo.
Still strapped somehow on what was left of the bird's torso was a slashed and battered saddle.
The sight chilled Squall's blood instantly. Etched into the stiff brown leather was the SeeD insignia overlaid with Trabia Garden's own emblem. There could be no doubt now that this was the same chocobo that Ellone had ridden out on yesterday across the snowfields. Despite his firm belief that she was alive, a shudder worked its way down Squall's spine as he stared grimly at the remains and wondered what had become of her, cold and alone out here in the snow somewhere.
I'll find you, Sis. I'm coming. Just hold on.
What do you think could have done this? Irvine asked.
I don't know, Squall replied, but it's not something we want to meet. In any case, what's important right now is that we find Ellone. We can figure out the rest of this later.
The sharpshooter nodded in understanding and stepped closer to Selphie, whose normally buoyant spirit seemed strangely absent today, not that Squall didn't think she deserved every bit of guilt she was undoubtedly heaping upon herself. It was her fault, after all, that Ellone was lost and in danger out here. Selphie was the one who had let her go riding yesterday in the first place. Squall made a mental note to talk to her about that later.
Quistis brushed unexpectedly past him then, her eyes intent on something further down the slope. What's that down there?
Following her gaze to the base of the hill, Squall saw what appeared to be gaping hole in the ground several yards out from the slope. Picking his way closer, carefully skirting the bloody patches of snow as he did so, he was able to see that the ground at the bottom of the hill was actually a thick layer of ice broken only by the large hole which Quistis was now approaching. Squall was about to join her when Zell gave a shout from behind.
In his hands was a thick winter coat crusted with snow and torn in more than a few places. Squall swallowed heavily as he recognized it. Ellone had been wearing that same coat yesterday morning when she had eaten breakfast with him before visiting with Selphie later that day and going on her doomed ride across the snowfields.
Dude, I nearly tripped over it trying to follow you guys down, Zell explained. It was all tangled in the snow and stuff.
Squall swore softly. Ellone's got even less time than we thought if she doesn't have any protection against the cold. Alright, people, let's move. Spread out and see what you can find. She's got to be around here somewhere. Selphie, go back up to the ship and do a long range scan of the area and see if anything comes up.
The others nodded their assent and began moving off in different directions across the surface of the frozen lake as Squall knelt next to Quistis in front of the ragged hole in the ice. Squall peered intently into the water, searching for any sign of Ellone, but found nothing. Bracing himself against the cold, he plunged his arm into the water and reached blindly for something, anything that might tell him where his sister was and what had happened to her.
Quistis asked.
Squall shook his head and withdrew his arm. His dripping fingers, though gloved, felt as though they were frozen solid, and he tried to rub some warmth back into them with his other hand. She must have fallen in when her chocobo went down, but—
He stopped suddenly, his eyes falling on a flash of green in a trampled and bloodied patch of snow on the far side of the hole. Circling around the water's edge, he bent and grasped the half-buried object, feeling in his hands the familiar textures of fabric, of silk. Pulling it free of the snow, he stared at the long, trailing garment for several long moments, his heart seeming to stop in his chest.
In his hand was Ellone's green shawl, stained with blood.
he whispered. Why hadn't she listened to him? He had told her to be careful, to not wander off too far. What could she have been thinking? Squall slowly brought his free hand up to the smooth, unmarked skin of his forehead, remembering how Ellone's power had so inexplicably healed it. She had said that her power was changing, but Squall knew that there was much more going on than she had told him. He had seen it in her eyes that morning, in the slight trembling of her fingers and the uneasy tremor in her voice. Thinking about it now, Squall began to understand why she might have ridden out here to seek solace and solitude.
The sound of running footsteps crunching through the snow brought Squall abruptly from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Selphie jogging toward him from the direction of the ship. When she reached him, she stopped for a second, her hands on her knees as she caught her breath, before speaking. Squall! Headmaster Cid's on the comm and he says it's urgent!
Squall sighed. He didn't need this, not now. He had to find Ellone! Alright, get everyone together and meet us back at the ship.
Gotcha! We'll be up there before ya know it! Selphie nodded and sped off, hurrying across the snow to find the others.
Ten minutes later, everyone was gathered once again on the Ragnarok's bridge, where Squall sat in the pilot's seat and quickly flipped a switch on the communications panel in front of him. Squall here, sir. What's the situation?
Cid's voice crackled forth from the speakers. Something's come up, Squall. I can't tell you anything right now because this is an unsecured channel, but you must return to the Garden immediately and report to my office as soon as you get back.
Sir, we've found Ellone's chocobo, or what was left of it. Elle was here, I'm sure of it. Her shawl and coat were both lying in the snow, but we haven't been able to find her yet.
Send me the coordinates and I'll have search parties sent out to continue looking for her. I'm afraid I can't let you stay out there, Squall. I need you and the others elsewhere.
Squall leaned forward in the seat. This couldn't be happening, not now! I can't just leave her! She's hurt and freezing out there somewhere! I have to find her!
Cid replied sternly, This matter is not open to debate. Send the coordinates and return to Garden. That's an order!
Understood, sir transmitting now. Squall sighed bitterly as he manipulated the controls on the communications panel. This had better be good. He hated abandoning Ellone, leaving her out here by herself and not knowing where she was or what had become of her, but Headmaster Cid had left him with no other choice. Squall only hoped he didn't live to regret it.
Squall couldn't believe what he was hearing. Or the living hell this day was fast becoming. Could anything else possibly go wrong today? He clenched his gloved fists tightly at his sides in frustration as he stood tensely in Headmaster Cid's refurbished office on Balamb Garden's third floor listening to the other man inform him of the situation at hand.
You heard me, Squall. We lost contact with our field exam team in Galbadia not long ago. There was a short, garbled transmission from Xu at approximately 07:44 hours but we've been unable to raise her or anyone else over there since then.
What happened over there, sir? Where's Rinoa?
Cid sighed. I wish I knew. Here, let me play the transmission for you. I'm afraid it isn't pleasant listening, however.
That proved to be a gross understatement, as Squall soon found out.
The headmaster, a bespeckled, middle-aged man wearing a burgundy vest over his crisp white oxford shirt and black slacks, turned to the intercom panel set in the wall near his desk and paged the bridge. Nida, bring up Xu's transmission and patch it through to my office immediately.
Yes, sir. Playing it now.
From the overhead speakers came a disjointed jumble of crackling static through which Squall could faintly hear Xu's voice struggling to be heard. The raw edge of fear evident in her voice bothered him more than a little. Having worked with her often since becoming Commander of Balamb Garden, Squall knew Xu to be a competent and professional SeeD officer seldom rattled by anything. As her voice came through more strongly now despite being interrupted at times by frequent bursts of static, however, he could clearly discern the rising fear she fought to keep in check.
Garden—you copy? This is Xu! Repeat, this—Xu! We are under attack! I—again, we—under attack! We—into a trap! The radicals—control of Dollet! We—ambushed in—comm tower! There—heavy casualties, and our gunships—been destroyed! Requesting immediate assistance! Repeat, I am reque—ediate assist—
The message broke off in large crackles of static before managing to come back amidst rapid bursts of weapons fire, the groans and cries of the wounded and dying, and a series of muffled explosions. —trying to hold them off, but—keep coming! Magic ineffective! GF's not responding! The radicals—taken Rinoa! We're trapped—comm tower!
Another burst of static obscured much of the message before the last piece came through. It was quieter now, save for Xu's ragged breathing and her footsteps echoing unevenly as she walked. Squall figured grimly that at this point she must have been wounded. He could almost hear her grimacing against the pain of the injuries she had no doubt sustained. Her fear was more evident here, less controlled than before. It didn't sound like there were very many others alive with her.
The radicals—breaking off—attack why? I think—know something in—tower with us, keeping in—shadows. Not human, but not—known monster, either It—killing us, one by one, those—who are left! Saw it—second when—killed Cadet Myers. It—too fast! Get us out of here! Hurry! We—running out of time! I—
Suddenly through the speakers came a bloodcurdling scream that Squall instantly recognized as Xu's own before it was abruptly cut off. Long seconds of static filled the air before the transmission finally, mercifully ended. Squall kept his fists tightly clenched to keep them from trembling, and he didn't need to look at his friends' faces around him to know that theirs were as pale as his own.
Cid sighed and met Squall's grim stare. As you know, Squall, the original mission for the field exam was to infiltrate and capture the Dollet communications tower from a radical faction of Galbadian insurgents. They aren't too happy with the provisional government we helped set up over there after the war, and they've also dedicated themselves to the extermination of all sorceresses, which would explain why they took Rinoa.
Squall breathed.
You are to go in, get our people out, and if you can, try to figure out exactly what is happening. You will be joined in Dollet by several Garden personnel who will assist you in this mission to the best of their ability. Is that understood?
Yes, sir. You'll inform me if the search teams find Ellone?
Normally, I would, Cid replied grimly, but due to the nature of this mission there is to be complete radio silence once you enter Dollet. We have no way of knowing exactly what's going on over there or who may be trying to listen in on our communications. I'll try and keep the search teams going for as long as I can, but
But what? Squall's eyes narrowed dangerously.
Cid looked at him sympathetically. Squall, Ellone's been out there exposed to the cold and sub-zero temperatures for over twelve hours now. I want her to be alive as much as you do, but I think I think the best we can hope for now is that is that we find her body intact. I've spoken with Dr. Kadowaki, and she doesn't believe that anyone could survive out there in that cold unprotected for this long. I'm sorry, Squall. I really am
No! She's alive, dammit! I'm not going to give up on her!
Cid's response was uncharacteristically sharp. You have a rescue mission to undertake, Commander, and I don't think you want to lose Rinoa any more than you want to lose Ellone. You are a SeeD officer, and I expect you to perform your duties exactly as you have been trained to do, without letting your emotions get in the way of your better judgment. Have I made myself clear?
Squall sighed glumly. Yes, sir.
Ward and I will stay with the search teams, Squall, Kiros said, his dark features set. If she's out there, we'll find her. Laguna's on his way here, too, and if I know him at all, he won't stop looking for her until he finds her no matter what anyone says. We've saved her before, you know, and we can do it again if we have to.
let's get going, then.
As he followed the others out of Cid's office, Squall wanted to scream. The two women he cared about the most were both in grave danger, and to save one he had to abandon the other. Kiros and the others would do everything in their power to find Ellone, but the very fact that Squall had to leave her, that he couldn't stay and look for her himself when he knew she was alive out there somewhere, alive and probably badly hurt, gnawed relentlessly at him and threatened to drive him mad.
A hand lightly touching his arm brought him from his dark thoughts, and he looked up to see that Selphie had slowed her pace until he had caught up to her. As the others filed into the central elevator, she brought Squall to a stop just a little ways from the end of the short hallway that led back to the bridge and to his and Cid's offices.
U-Um, Squall? I need to talk with you
About what? Squall snapped.
Selphie flinched visibly, but went on. A-About Ellone
What about her?
I just I just wanted to say that I I'm so sorry about about what happened. I didn't mean for her to be hurt. It's my fault Ellone's probably dead
Squall exploded. Is that all you can say? Sorry'? What good does that do now? You're damn right it's your fault! How could you let her go out alone like that without any way of calling for help? How could you be so brainless?
I Selphie stammered, her eyes rimmed with unshed tears. Finally, she turned and ran toward the elevator, which chimed open almost immediately to reveal Irvine's tall form. The lanky cowboy stepped into the hall as Selphie brushed hurriedly past him, her chest hitching uncontrollably as she tried to choke back a sob. Irvine, seething now, turned to Squall with a dark look on his face.
What the hell is the matter with you, Squall? I know you're upset, man—we all are—but don't go taking it out on my girl!
She deserves it, Squall muttered.
The hell she does! Irvine pointed a finger at him. You hurt her again and I'll hurt you, got it?
Squall shouldered his way angrily past Irvine. Out of my way!
The elevator had already closed behind Selphie and descended again by the time Squall got to it, so he slapped his palm hard against the button next to the door and waited for it to come back in a few moments. Crossing his arms in front of his chest and leaning wearily against the wall, he sighed bitterly. What else could possibly go wrong today?
He hoped he wouldn't find out.