As darkness fell over Balamb Garden, he burned. Every nerve in his body felt on fire. His senses took in everything around him. He felt, in short, alive. For the first time since before the death of his Sorceress, he felt alive. He'd caused a great deal of pain in his life, but never before had he looked forward to it with such abandon.
He wanted to pace, to move, but he stayed seated. He needed to keep the animal inside him chained for as long as possible, so he could savor its rampage when he unleashed it. Instead, he sat, polishing his sword with reverence. He paid careful attention to detail, missing nothing, testing every joint, ensuring its readiness.
During his days as a sellsword, he tended to his gear with ritualistic concentration. His companions spent their nights drinking, whoring, gambling, but he sat and polished his armor. Sharpened his sword. Reviewed the deployment of forces. He didn't abstain from drinking, whoring, or gambling, of course. Merely saved them for after the battle.
After a certain point, though, battles ceased to matter. As his prowess – and power – grew, individual battles seemed less and less important. People stopped providing a challenge. Victory turned inevitable.
Tonight, though. Tonight felt like those first few battles, scrabbling for a patch of ground not large enough to inter the slain. Tonight had an air of heady desperation that intoxicated him.
The door opened and Scarlet entered. He did not hear her feet move on the ground as she walked.
"She's here," Scarlet said.
Mallis rose.
"Good," he replied. "Reinforce the front gate."
"Already done."
"They'll come in through the Quad?"
"Count on it," she said.
"You are not to station any troops there. You may not attack them until they reach the main concourse."
Scarlet's lips pulled tight on her face.
"When they arrive, let Leonhart pass. Dispose of the rest as you see fit. If you need reinforcements, summon The Storm. Have the girl moved to the roof. I like to work outdoors."
Scarlet nodded, the motion almost imperceptible. She turned on her heel and started to leave.
"You disapprove?" he called after her.
She turned back. "Your penchant for
drama leaves me cold. I'd prefer to have
her in a secure location."
He shrugged. "I like to work outdoors."
She nodded again.
"Do you believe in the cause?" he inquired, eye narrowing. "The restoration of the Great Queen Adel?"
She looked at him, cool and indifferent. "It's a means to an end."
"What end is that?"
"Power. Knowledge."
He smiled. "Fujin is my daughter. You, Scarlet, are my heir."
She nodded once, the motion curt.
"I'm going to Seaside Station. I'll be taking the Apocalypse."
Mallis cocked his head a little.
"Is it—?" he asked.
"She wants a meeting," Scarlet said, cutting him off in mid-sentence.
Mallis opened his mouth, lips pulling back from his teeth as he started to speak.
"This is my affair," Scarlet said. "I will handle it."
Mallis nodded.
"See that you don't neglect your duties."
"As you say," she replied.
"Speaking of which," Mallis said, pulling a file folder off his desk. "Deliver this. It should set things in motion."
Scarlet glanced inside the folder, another imperceptible nod registering her approval. She turned on her heel and left the room.
* *
Quistis looked up as the Apocalypse lowered itself to the ground, trying to catch a glimpse of her half-sister as the ship landed. She couldn't see Scarlet through the cockpit windows but prepared herself for the worst.
The ship stood silent for a long moment. Quistis waited in anticipation. The gangplank lowered, and Quistis watched, hypnotized by the sight of this woman who looked so much like her.
Scarlet stopped a fair distance from Quistis, watching her watch. Both women arrived armed, pistols holstered. Ready to fight if it came to that. Quistis's breathing finally resumed, and she started to speak.
"I... it... the..."
"Startling, isn't it?" Scarlet said, ice water in her voice.
"Seifer's word was 'uncanny.'"
"And your word?"
"Eerie."
"You want the family history."
Quistis nodded. "I've always—"
"Our mother was a minor relation of Adel, second cousin or something negligible. Too distant to wield any political influence. Close enough to enjoy a position of mild prestige at court. Close enough to feel threatened when the revolution started. She left the country in the final days of Adel's regime. Your father remained behind to fight the good fight."
"It didn't go well," Quistis ventured.
"He died, a believer to the end. When word reached our mother, living by now in Dollet, she found herself in a delicate situation. She had no marketable skills to speak of, owing to her birth rank. She had only modest sum of money with her. She had grown accustomed to a certain lifestyle, befitting a relation of the Sorceress-Queen. And she had an infant child."
"I was expendable."
"The General devoted all his resources to financing the counter-revolution. Feeding the expensive habits of Adel's relatives was not a priority. Off you went to the orphanage, where a quirk of fate would place you next to Squall Leonhart – son of the man responsible for your presence there."
"And you?"
"Our mother remarried. The man was an associate of General Mallis, who became a frequent visitor in my home. An uncle of sorts."
"Some uncle."
"Preferable to our mother. It didn't take long for her to regret placing you in the orphanage. She attempted to find you, but Cid Kramer had already set his sights on you and made you untraceable."
"If he has such an extensive network, why didn't Mallis track me down for her?"
"The General's loyalty was – is – to the Sorceress Adel. Not to every stray cousin. At any rate, her decision to give you up consumed her. Depression overtook her, as did alcohol and an ever-increasing string of drugs. In her rare moments of sobriety, she was bitter and angry. She ranted about the cruelties that stole her daughter. She disowned me several times. Banished me from the house because I reminded her of you, then begged me to return, before she lost me – like you. One day, I left the house for good, taking with me evidence that my father had been embezzling from General Mallis. I presented it to the General and demanded he give me a job. That was my tenth birthday. No doubt you appreciate the coincidence."
Quistis nodded. "On my tenth birthday, I ran away from my foster parents and enrolled at Galbadia Garden. One term later, I transferred to Balamb Garden."
Scarlet spread her hands. "There you have it. Your heritage."
"But what happened to them?" Quistis asked. "Our mother? Your father?"
"Both quite dead," Scarlet said, voice disinterested. "Life expectancy decreases dramatically after one betrays the General."
"And our mother?"
"A victim of her own folly. She died while she was drunk, injecting what she believed to be morphine."
"What was it?"
"I substituted lye. She didn't notice the difference until the screaming started."
"So here we are."
"Indeed," Scarlet nodded. "And you should know that this is your free pass. The next time we meet, I will kill you."
"Why?" Quistis pressed. "Because of what she did? You can't hate me for her actions."
Scarlet shrugged. "I don't."
"Then why—?"
"You're the great Instructor. Let's try a little hypothetical. One of your former students comes to you with a problem. He's a SeeD with some experience under his belt, and his just received his latest assignment from high command. He's to go to his hometown to deal with a local gang. He knows his brother is a member of the gang, and that, in all probability, they will wind up in direct conflict. How would you advise him?"
Quistis's eyes dropped. "He has to resign his commission or take the assignment."
"And the brother?"
"If taking the assignment means fighting his brother, he fights his brother. His personal life takes a backseat to his orders. He made that choice when he signed his contract."
"Exactly." Scarlet shrugged, the motion more a gesture of her face than her shoulders. "The next time we meet, I will kill you."
"Is that the reason you're with Mallis? Because it's your job?"
"I made that pledge years ago. As long as he lives, I will serve him. Didn't you make a similar pledge to Squall?" A faint smile danced across her face, too familiar for Quistis's comfort.
"I don't love Squall anymore," she said, the admission shocking her. She heard the words and felt their truth, but could not believe she'd made the confession to this woman she didn't know.
"That doesn't matter," Scarlet replied, the smile fading into nothingness. "You chose your path. I chose mine. You swore your vow and you honor your obligations. I do the same."
Scarlet turned and walked away from Quistis, leaving the blonde maddened and frustrated. She had the answers she sought, but the knowledge left her hollow and discontent.
The Ragnarok and the Apocalypse lifted off together, joined in the same fashion as their occupants, mirrors, forever separated by the powers they served.
As Quistis watched the other ship depart, she heard the ping indicating an incoming signal. She opened the communications channel.
"I'm here," she said.
"I have something for you," Scarlet said, her smile pleasant and somehow unnerving. "I suggest you take it to Squall."
The file transfer dialogue opened, and Quistis accepted. When the picture came in, it displayed on the Ragnarok's heads-up display, so Quistis could see it without taking her eyes off her flying. Nevertheless, when she saw the picture, her hands fell off the controls, causing the ship to drop into hover mode to compensate.
Quistis looked at the picture again, to make sure her eyes didn't deceive her. When she reexamined the picture, she took up the controls once more, pressing the engine as hard as possible to prompt her return to Garden.