Selphie: nakigoe-chan has pretty much allowed us to take over her author's notes, since we play minor roles in this story.
Irvine: WHY DON'T I GET A BETTER ROLE? I'm funny. I'm gorgeous. I'm...
Selphie:...shutting up now?
Irvine: (sulk)
Selphie: For those of you who are wondering, nakigoe-chan hasn't forgotten us. She's going to bring us in (mostly for Irvine's sake, I'm betting. She thinks he's hot). She just hasn't figured out how yet. But she will, because otherwise I will sing The Train Song from now until the cows come home.
Irvine: Of course, right now, she's beyond minding anything we do, because she's just been accepted as an undergrad to her top choice university, which means: no more applications! No more car trips! More time for fanfics! Joy to the world!
Selphie: But currently, we're in control. The one problem is we can't always get her to write – at the moment she's distracted by Cassandra Claire's fanfics, and is busy with her friends, who are all quoting The Very Secret Diaries at each other.
Irvine: Those things are funny as hell.
Selphie: Okay, to business. nakigoe-chan owns nothing but her plotline, so don't sue. If you plan to sue her, at least wait until Irvine and I get our time in the spotlight.
(nakigoe-chan: Remind me again why I should put those two in the story? Okay, yes, I will, I love them, but gimme awhile. Oh, and visit my website – there will be pictures to go with each chapter, and spoiler quotes for the next chapter. Yes, that's right, spoilers – not too bad though, nothing too big given away. http://www.angelfire.com/anime4/nakigoe-chan)
I also apologize about the many stupid grammatical errors in The Gates of the Light. I didn't read it over before posting, and that was my punishment.
This chapter is for Kelcie, Aniiston, Sarah (Dark Raion), and Sabrina, with much appreciation for their support and/or patience.
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THE DYING OF THE LIGHT
Chapter 5: The Turning of the Traitor, Part I
By: nakigoe-chan
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You're
scared.
Ashamed of what you feel
And you can't tell the ones you love
You know they couldn't deal.
Whisper in a dead man's ear,
It doesn't make it real.
- Spike, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She had never felt so angry.
"I don't know if you're Papa's secretary or assistant or what," she screamed, "but you'd better remember your place! You're not coming into our family!"
If Kaolinite thought that she could take Mama's place by pretending to care about her and prancing around in tiny tight dresses, she thought wrong. Of course, it was pretty obvious to the girl that Kaolinite hadn't thought very far beyond getting into Papa's pants.
But she was also sure that there was something else the woman wanted.
Unfortunately, her father (as was the case with many men) turned a blind eye to the behavior of the hopelessly manipulative redhead, and had taken her side over his daughter's.
The girl fled to her room, barely making it before she collapsed again, the pain of her sickness sending her tumbling towards the bed. She heard her father's voice behind her, speaking softly to Kaolinite: "I've spoiled her since her mother died."
The fits, the pain, the fainting...it was all getting worse, it was all getting more and more frequent.
Kaolinite's reply floated after her, soft and false. "It doesn't bother me, Professor."
She stumbled out of her uniform and over to the bed, drawing the covers up to her chin and shivering despite the heat.
The voices in her head were all calling to her, beseeching her, commanding her, condemning her...
Make it stop...
This had become her mantra, when the voices started up. This was what she tried to use to keep them at bay. Not that it worked, but it was almost a relief, almost a weight off her chest, to fight them.
Make it stop...
The door of her room opened, and her father entered. Papa, she had to correct herself. She felt like someone else, and that put him in the role of someone else's father. He was so far away from her now; he was creating new worlds in his laboratory – worlds he spent forever in, worlds where she wasn't invited or welcome.
In those worlds the people worshiped her, as she wore someone else's face. But they were not people; they were shadows of lost souls. They were demons; why did they worship her?
Papa was the presence that had once made her feel so at peace; that presence now seemed almost...intrusive, and alien.
He gave her an amulet, a charm. He said it had belonged to her mother, once.
She clutched it to her chest, and made her wish...
Make it stop...
...and it made the voices stop.
It welcomed the darkness...but it made the voices stop.
And she slept.
And she dreamed.
She would not remember her nightmares when she awoke, and this would be another dark gift of the amulet - the amulet that, she somehow knew, had never belonged to her mother.
She wondered about Papa, to herself. Had Papa's hands always been so cold?
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"Seifer!" I cried. Despite everything, I couldn't help thinking: God, I sound SO clichéd.
"Rinoa," he replied sarcastically, dragging the sound of my name out, making fun of me. Stupid git, I thought crankily.
"What are you doing here?" I snapped.
"I could ask the same question of you," he replied.
"But you didn't." I really felt like being snotty and difficult. "So answer me."
He stood up, pretending to do it with dignity. There was no dignity in the movement. He had defeat in his shoulders, he had been tackled by a girl, and there was an aquatic plant in his hair. Somehow, dignity was lacking.
"I owe you," he said stiffly, "no explanations."
It was very ironic that I had, on so many occasions in the past few weeks, attempted to find him so I could talk to him, because now he was right here, in front of me, and I couldn't think of a thing to say.
I felt like an idiot, even though he was the one unintentionally sporting a lily pad as a hat. And I was colder than ever. All in all, the situation was very unpleasant.
But what came out of his mouth next was what I least expected, what I was least prepared for, and all other emotions fled in the face of the sudden tidal wave of disbelief and pain. Because he didn't even know...
Seifer was looking around, scanning the area that surrounded us. "So, Sorceress," he said flippantly, "where's your Knight in Shining Leather?"
...that Squall was dead.
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{Actually,} said the boy, his mouth turning up into what was almost a smile, {I'm supposed to help YOU.}
Squall had not expected this. But this boy doubtlessly knew more than he did about this place. It was his home, after all. He recognized this boy's voice; it was the voice that had told him mournfully, as he ran through the endless dark flowers. {This is what's left of my home.}
And there was one question Squall had for which he desperately needed an answer.
"Where," he asked the boy, his voice cracking and desperate, "is she?"
{She is not here,} the boy told him, and somehow this was not what Squall expected. Somehow this simple sentence sounded profound, as if the boy's tongue lent it depth.
"Why?"
{It is not yet her time,} the boy said. {It was not your time yet, either,} he added, almost as an afterthought.
"This place is mine," Squall said frantically, not understanding. "This place is ours. It belongs to us." The boy only stared up at him with those sad amber eyes. "She and I – we belong here."
He knew this, somehow, though he still did not remember her.
{This place is not safe,} said the boy.
"It is!" Squall felt hopeless, helpless, as if the garden and its possibilities and its promise were melting away in front of him. "It is the only safe place I've ever known!"
{It is not only that you will not be safe here,} the boy told him, {but it is also not safe, itself. This garden will die, if it is not protected.}
"I'll protect it!" Squall had not meant anything so much as he meant this, not even when he was alive. Except for one thing...
I'll protect you...
But it was the same thing. Whatever he had vowed to protect in his life was mirrored by this garden.
{You must protect it, of course,} the boy said, {but you cannot simply guard its boarders and hope it does not fall into darkness. It requires a quest, and that quest has a price. You have fought to protect it once before, and it cost you your life. The price now, for this, may be far greater. Are you willing to pay it?}
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He didn't know that Squall was dead. How could he not know that Squall was dead?
I laughed bitterly to myself. My world revolved around Squall; it had stopped spinning, stuck in endless midnight, when he had died. That did not mean that everyone else's worlds had come cascading down. He would have seen the answer on my face, but it was too dark to see anything.
Before I could answer – how could I answer? – Quistis arrived, struggling through the underbrush and carefully avoiding the creek. I had always felt clumsy beside her – she managed grace in heels and a skirt, and I seemed ungainly despite my more sensible footwear.
"Where were you?" I asked. She shrugged and made a vague hand motion that I didn't understand and didn't try to. She was fine; that was all that mattered.
Then we both turned our attention to Seifer.
Quistis pointed at him and lifted her hands in a what the hell are we going to do about him? motion. I had no helpful suggestions, and shrugging back at her was the most constructive thing I could think of.
Quistis sighed. Seifer scowled. Everyone was in character. It was a nice moment, except for the fact that the world sucked.
"What the hell is going on?" Seifer said. "Are you two both mute?" He obviously hadn't been updated on Quistis's verbal situation either, as it was obviously meant as a joke, if a somewhat insulting one.
"No," I said, deadpan. "Just her."
His eyes widened, and I saw a brief flash of sympathy and embarrassment there before his normal obnoxious front returned. "Neato. One less of you I have to worry about nagging at me."
"First of all, neither of us intended to nag at you. What would we nag at you for?" I could do sarcasm too, and I'd been looking for an excuse. I put on a whiny little voice. "'Take out the garbage, Seifer,' 'don't leave your soda on the table without a coaster, Seifer.'" I went back to my normal voice, though it still ran heavy with mockery. "Second of all, if you think Quistis can't nag just because she can't talk, you're even stupider than I thought."
Quistis smirked. She was actually probably really good at nagging him; she had been his teacher, after all. Being considered the one in charge by Seifer (even to a limited extent) when they were the same age was a power trip I couldn't begin to imagine.
Seifer's face twisted into a grimace of anger and annoyance. "What is your problem?" He growled. "Isn't it Commander Puberty's job to piss me off? Or are you guys taking that over because he's having an 'I'm insufficient' day?"
Quistis, not having heard Seifer's earlier comment about Squall, didn't realize that this remark was not nearly as malicious as it sounded – not by a long shot. None of us had seen Seifer after the final battle, but we all had assumed he'd known what Squall's fate was. He evidently didn't – but the woman in front of him didn't know that.
Quistis stalked toward him, her face twisted into a scowl, her hands coming up.
"What's up?" Seifer doubled over, laughing. "Are you going to slap me? Talk about an overused cliché."
She stopped in front of him, her hand raised, and waited for him to recover. He finally stopped laughing, raising his head enough to look her in the eyes.
There was a pause. Then she dropped her hand...
...And swung her booted foot up, as hard as she could, to kick him between the legs.
"YOW!" Seifer screeched, doubling over again and falling to his knees.
I thought for a minute that maybe I should pretend to be the mature one here. Then I thought, nah, even when I was dating Seifer I'd always thought he'd needed a good kick in the nuts.
But I felt compelled to tell her the truth anyway. "Quistis," I said, "he doesn't know."
Her eyes widened.
"You bitch!" Seifer yelled at Quistis. "You freak!"
But Quistis didn't laugh at him, as she would have before. She walked over to me, gently took Lionheart out of my hands, and stuck it in the ground before her, in front of Seifer. The handle was about at his eye level, as he was still kneeling on the ground.
He looked up at her face. She pointed at the weapon. Seifer picked up pretty quickly that she was trying to tell him something; he seemed better suited than me already for this form of communication. "Squall is...?"
Quistis yanked one finger across the front of her throat in one quick motion. I held back a sob. But at least she had done something marvelous for me – she had spared me from having to say it myself, despite her handicap. She had found a way to tell him, very quickly, before he turned his questions to me.
I stepped forward, to lay my hand on her shoulder, to thank her without words. As I did so, I felt my face fall into a patch of moonlight.
Seifer's face, suddenly pale, jerked up to mine. He must have seen the tears I didn't remember crying; he must have realized the truth that - for different reasons that really were, in the end, the same – neither Quistis nor I could say.
"...Dead?" His voice had never sounded so small.
I fell to the ground, hard. I guess I hadn't been ready to hear the words, not yet. No one had said them, except for Ultimecia.
He stood up, towering over us. He stared at us, pale and emotionless, for what seemed like forever.
And then he turned his back and vanished into the forest.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
"I thought," Squall said, too concerned to be irritated, "that if I walked through those Gates I'd find peace, not more war. I thought I'd finally be able to stop fighting."
The boy shook his head sadly. {You were not supposed die.}
"What does that have to do with anything? Does that change the situation? Does it make me any less dead?" Okay, so maybe he could work up some irritation.
{In life, you are assigned tasks.}
"Don't I know it," muttered Squall.
{If you die before your tasks are completed,} the boy said, {you walk through the Gates, but they do not take you where your peace lies. Everyone is given a second chance to complete the tasks they missed out on. You cannot be restored to life, but you can still affect what lies on earth. That is the way of miracles.}
"But miracles are so few."
{If you choose not to complete your task, you may walk through the Second Gates, to the final destination.} The boy explained. {If you choose not to complete your task, you move on to the peace you seek. This is what most people choose, when presented with the option. Thus, miracles are rare.}
"When there are so many good people who die before their time," Squall challenged, "why do so few opt to forgo the Gates?"
{The risks,} The boy said, {are enormous, and you cannot make your choice until you truly understand the price you pay. And the understanding is...a test. It is something to be overcome, as much as something to be obtained. Most cannot overcome it. Thus, most do not truly understand, and most cannot change the lives of those still on earth.}
"And how is this understanding gained?" Squall asked.
{I will show you,} said the boy. {And when you understand, you will make your choice. You must be given a choice, even though so much more is at risk.}
The boy turned away, and a dark set of double doors appeared before him – intricately worked, ebony, and foreboding in their beauty. He pointed toward it, turning his head to once more catch Squall's gaze. {Inside,} he told Squall, {you will find understanding. You will discover the price. Many, like you, claim to be willing to go through anything. But you have walked through the Gates of the Light. Once you've done that, there is only one way out of this world: The Gate of Shadows. Only those who can make it through the challenges of the Gate of Shadows can complete their tasks.}
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Quistis and I lit a fire to help me dry off, but we did not keep it burning through the night. We did not want to attract attention.
I was therefore surprised when I felt the warm glow of a blaze on my face when I awoke. "Quistis - " I muttered irritably – but I had once again mistaken the blond traitor for the blond teacher.
Traitor. It felt odd, that Seifer was a traitor. He had betrayed us, tortured Squall, helped Ultimecia. And yet, in so many ways, he was the most innocent of us all, the most victimized. He had been violated by the sorceress in a way only I could relate to.
I stared at him from my place on the ground. He was sitting on a fallen log, next to the fire, poking the fire with his gunblade. The motion made me unconsciously clutch Lionheart's handle. I had slept next to Squall's gunblade; even without him to wield it, it gave me the treasured illusion of protection.
"What are you doing here?"
Seifer was silent for a long time. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and very carefully flat, speaking volumes with its false indifference.
"How..." he knew the words, but seemed, for a moment, to have trouble stringing them together. "How did he die?"
I looked at the fire. I couldn't answer that question yet, not without falling forever into my waking nightmares.
Seifer must have understood this from the look on my face, because he didn't ask again. It was a pointless question anyway. Ultimecia was the only option, though I suspected Seifer wanted to know more than merely the murderer's name.
And somehow, Seifer understood me in this better than the others, because Seifer had understood Squall, better than Zell or even Quistis ever had. And he understood me. He couldn't understand how it felt, but he somehow grasped the depth of it in a way my friends never really would.
And I trusted him. Enough to open up the Pandora's Box that held all my questions. My thoughts.
My guilt.
"I feel like..." I whispered, so softly that I wasn't even sure he would hear me, "...it's my fault. And I don't even know why."
There was a long silence. Seifer's face didn't change; the firelight – and the light of the dawn – flickered across his features, but couldn't touch them.
Then he looked at me. "Hey," he said. "Do you know how to use that thing?"
It took me a moment to realize he was talking about Lionheart.
"No," I said. Using it felt wrong, because it was a reminder that the person who it belonged to no longer could, and never would again.
"Do you want to learn?"
Did I?
It felt like a betrayal – like letting anyone use Lionheart again should be taboo - but in some sense, it felt right as well. Leaving Lionheart to rust forever was a waste; not only of a fine weapon, but of so many memories. It was something of Squall that I still had, and it would tie me to an element of him, even though he was gone.
Why else had I used it, instead of my Shooting Star, to try and kill Ultimecia?
"Yes," I said.
"Then get up."
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I won't lie. At first, I was afraid. I'd seen what grief could do to a person, and no matter how little he showed it, Seifer was grieving.
Grief made some men violent, and Seifer was never the cuddly type.
So when Seifer was done adjusting my grip and my stance, and had shown me the correct ways to swing, I stared at him squaring of against me and wondered: is this an exercise in proper gunblade use, or is it a violent attempt to relieve the pain and anger?
But his movements, at first, were slow; he let me block all his actions, so I could get used to the feel of the weapon in my hands. He showed me everything; he never spoke.
Block, thrust, block, block, swipe.
I sucked at it.
But Seifer was patient. I saw him building a wall around himself; he focused on teaching me so that he would not have to focus on anything else.
Thrust, block, block.
Of course, if he was trying to forget Squall for the moment, his chosen activity of teaching Squall's girlfriend to fight with Squall's gunblade probably wasn't the best choice of distraction.
Block, thrust, swipe.
"It was," he said.
Block.
"What was?" I asked. I had no clue what he was talking about.
Thrust.
"IT was," he said.
Block.
He wanted to play that way? Fine. "Was what?" I sighed, still not sure what we were discussing.
Swipe.
"Your fault."
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END OF PART 5: PLEASE R & R or email me at nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com.
I respond to all emails. And before everyone starts flaming me about that last line of Seifer's, take a DEEP BREATH, okay? I have no intention of making him a bad dude. There IS an explanation.
In Chapter 6: The Turning of the Traitor, Part II:
We conclude the chapter that has turned out to be twice as long as expected (sweatdrop), with much Seifer and little Squall, because my timing appears to be off, and Squall's part in this can't progress until Seifer's catches up. Mostly, it's the Deep Talk between Seifer and Rinoa. Since everyone here seems to love Seifer to death, I take it that won't be a problem. And maybe there'll be other stuff. Hmm...but, again, I will be putting up some spoilers on my webpage.
Go to http://www.faniac.com. 'Cause we need support, and people, and writers, and artists, and...other stuff. And because Lauren and Carlen spent SO long on that webpage. But first: REVIEW!
Review responses:
Pierson: Yes, they'll be here, sooner or later. (The reviews are gonna move from 'When's Seifer showing up?' to 'When are Irvine and Selphie showing up?' Siiiigh But thanks. And as for the Ranma fan thing...well, if you want protection from them, I suppose bear traps and antipersonnel mines are a good START. ^_^
Amy: I was busy recovering from midterms, too, so I'm glad I could improve someone's day. ^_^; And yes, Seifer's here, just in case anyone still wasn't clear on that. ^_^
Aniiston: Thank you so much! Your constant support has been wonderful, not to mention chatting with you. I'm glad you're still enjoying this fic, and I hope I can live up to your compliments.
Golden flame: I know you IMed me on msn messanger, and I didn't reply. I'm really sorry about that. I've been banned from the net for all but homework purposes, and my parents were in the room at the time, and I feared decapitation. I'm very sorry, and I hope that next time I'm in a less dangerous position, and can talk to you.thank you so much for the encouragement. Yes, the four main characters are Rinoa, Squall, Seifer, and Quistis. And as for After You, you can read it at either http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=525438 or at http://www.angelfire.com/anime4/nakigoe-chan/ay.html. But it is NOT a Final Fantasy VIII fanfic.
dee: Yes, that seems to be the general consensus; everybody loves Seifer. And actually, I'm having a lot of fun writing him. Thanks for the encouragement.
Baby Rose: Nope. Still grounded. Still off the net; still haven't finished reading it. School just gives me the chance to check up on email, reviews, etc. But I'll print out the whole darn thing, read it today, write a review, and stick it on the web as soon as possible. I miss talking to you too! The 'email' books are actually inspired by the Journey Books in Terry Goodkind's Sword of Truth series, which is NOT the crossover, BTW. Those who already realize what the crossover is will no doubt have realized who the kid Squall has just met is, but for those who haven't, we'll be learning more about him soon. Giving Rinoa Squall's gunblade was a sudden, unplanned, lightbulb-in-my-head idea, but that has been (IMHO) the most touching element in the story so far. Don't ask me why.
Laguna-chan: Arigatou! The pace and the characterization are what worry me the most in this fic (Quistis, Rinoa, and Squall are all harder to write than I expected) so I'm glad you think it's pulling together well, especially since the beginning tends to confuse people. Laguna will show, as will as Irvine and Selphie. They won't be as big as Squall, Rinoa, Quistis, Seifer, or even Zell – who I have NOT abandoned, he has a job to do – but yes, they'll show. I'm not entirely sure what you mean about the quotes – were you referring to the opening quotes in each chapter, or the 'I'll be here' thing in The Gates of the Light? Not really a big deal, so whatever, and thanks for your review. And thanks for the favorite's list – it's not only flattering, but I'm rather disappointed that After You (6 chapters, 149 reviews) is pretty much trouncing The Dying of the Light (5 chapters, 41 reviews...sweatdrop) in every category, so every little bit helps.
Wynter: Boy, do I know about exams and exhaustion. Thanks for putting the effort in to review at all – if I was in your shoes, I'd probably have been too lazy. ^_^
Anonymous Wanderer: Thanks! Drama I was going for, tear-jerking I was hoping for, and overall feeling I was just makin' up as I went. Still am, to some extent. The weird thing is, everyone who knows me (and reads my non-fanfic stuff) seems to think I'm much better at humorous stories, rather than dark/deep/dramatic ones. As for the crossover material: (WHY, oh why, does no one read my author's notes? sob)*cough*duh*cough.* ^_~
Jessica: I'm a little intimidated by how long you can stretch out those words, and as a rather cynical person I tend to doubt you actually mean it, but I appreciate the compliment. ^_^
Illix/Elizabeth/Freshling: First of all, your writing (at least what I've read of it) is VERY good, and second of all, I beat EVERYONE in the Updating Laziness category. And have you even PLAYED the game, or are you just in love with Seifer? I mean, the hotdogs are IN the game, child.
Keiry: While slightly intimidated by how many letters you can fit into one word, I'm very flattered by your compliments. And I'm sure that you CAN write like me; if I have any ability it stems mostly from lots of reading and notes on style (how scary is it that I now note style in books as much as plot?).
Dragonchic: Hmm. I hope you don't mean they've gotten clichéd in MY story, but whatever. I'm not sure what the current Quistis/Seifer cliché is, because I don't read Seiftis unless the main couple is Squall/Rinoa. So warn me if I start sounding clichéd, 'k? 'Cause that would be bad...and yes, Ro/Lo! Yay! Except in my area I'm worried that they may have cancelled the show weep. First Batman Beyond, now X-men! SOME OF US CAN SEE THE BLATENT STUPIDITY OF POKEMON, OK?! (Sorry. We anime fans take our cartoons a little too seriously.) And you live in Northern Virginia? Cool! (Hmm...wouldn't it be freaky if we actually knew each other already?) I go to National Cathedral School. Heard of it?
And now...it's a snow day here in Washington DC, and my inner child is calling me.
~ nakigoe-chan