B1: He's been captured.
B2: You couldn't have foreseen it.
B3: You gain some, you lose some Siegfred. We have to move on.
B1: It was MY fault Vargos. I choose to not stay with him -
B2: At HIS request.
B1: Nevertheless, I should have stayed.
B3: There are others –
B1: We're going.
B2: What of Red?
B1: Don't worry Yuri: he isn't going anywhere. Meet me at the old missile site..
B2 and B3: Understood.
End Caller Log>
C1: This is a SeeD matter sir. In no way does it concern the nation of Galbadia whatsoever.
C2: You enlisted the aid of the Galabdian Police, Commander. Thus, the individual in question is to be trialed in our court.
C1: If I recall Sir, the Garden-Nation Agreement that was established nine years ago –
C2: Became invalid with the death of Mr. and Mrs. Kramer, the original founders of the SeeD program. Good Night Commander.
End Caller Log>
Ferin awoke from the dream, his prison bed (which was really just a thin suspended mattress) wet with sweat. He was breathing hard, his heart racing anxiously,
He swore under his breath as he tumbled to the jail cell's sink, the mirror hanging over it filled with smudges and dirt. The Galbadian Government obviously didn't care for the shape of the prisoner's quarters – then again, who would? The broken tiles, the filthy windows bringing little light into the dark-as-night rooms, more likely than not they were all part of some type of strategy to mentally break down the hundreds of rapists and serial killers that called prison home.
Ferin turned on the sink, letting the water fill the sink, the Wolf staring into the stained window. His eyes were a scarlet red, half a dozen grayed circles under the red orbs. Ferin griped his hands on the edge of the sink, swallowing hard as he looked at his reflection.
"This is the end then" the would-be Judge noted to himself.
"Perhaps you can do something to make up for your crimes then" the familiar Commander's voice filled the small room.
"What would the Lion require of the Wolf then?"
"I wish to know more of this project GAIA you were supposedly a part of."
"4-8-15-16-23-42."
"What?" Squall raised his eyebrow out of confusion.
"4-8-15-16-23-42" Ferin repeated, turning his head to Squall. "Enter the code into Cid's computer. It will tell you everything you need to know."
"Cid was not involved."
"One can be wrong."
Squall didn't say anything to Ferin after that. He just turned and left. But the look in Squall's eyes told Ferin everything he needed to know.
Squall was as stubborn as an ass.
Ferin didn't say anything for a long time after that. He didn't even move for a long time after that. He just stood there, his naked chest against the cold iron bars, staring at the ruined wall. It was a few hours later when Ferin final said something. "Some people just never accept things" Ferin muttered to himself as he headed for his 'bed' to rest before the next day's trial.
"All too true brother" another familiar voice filled the room, but one much more reassuring. Ferin turned his gaze to lay his eyes on the Stranger from two days earlier, and beside him were two new individuals. On the Stranger's left was a giant of a man, filled with muscles. His brown hair was cut short and spiked up using a somewhat excessive amount of hair gel, and his sleeve-less leather jacket just added to his brute like appearance.
If the brute could be called a bull, to his right was a snake. He wore a simple T-shirt with black cargo jeans. To his side were two modified gunblades, more of a gun than blade. His white hair was uncut, flowing half way down his back like waves against the beach shore.
The Stranger's appearance didn't change much from their meeting at the missile site two days prior: black hair long but not nearly as the snake's, a brown trench coat hiding his t-shirt and jeans.
"The brute here is Vargos, the one with the gunblades is Yuri, and I am Siegfred." Ferin nodded in agreement, walking towards the cell bars. "You seem to be in quite a predicament."
"How did you get in here?" Ferin questioned, wanting to get the thought out of his mind. The D-Prison was the infamous political prison of Galbadia, (thus from that simple fact, his capture must of caused some type of political problem, although with whom was anyone's guess) and so it was highly secured. How these three men managed to penetrate the prison's defenses unscathed –and most likely unseen- was probably the newest wonder of the world.
"Para-Magic has its uses" Yuri chuckled, raising his hand covered in a shadow-like substance.
"I didn't think you three the type to use Para-Magic."
"And we didn't think you to get locked up so easily" the brute Vargos countered, grinning thinking himself quite clever at the remark. But a scowl from Ferin proved otherwise.
"Shall you be coming with us?" Siegfred asked the imprisoned Wolf, hoping to leave with or without him before a prison guard would show. The three were powerful SeeDs that much was true, but even Squall and his friends had difficulty escaping from the D-Prison that many years ago.
"Do I have a choice?"
"It would seem no, but you actually have two" Yuri suggested. "One, you can stay here and die, or two, come with us and be wanted as a fugitive, a hated man, a criminal. And yet, you will have a chance to find out what you really need."
"Vengeance?" Ferin suggested, not knowing the right answer anymore.
"That, or something else" Yuri continued. "That is up to you."
"Will you be coming or not brother?" Siegfred interjected, trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible. "We don't have much time to be idle here. I don't want to be imprisoned as you are now."
"I'm coming. But I need a weapon…and some clothes." Siegfred nodded to Vargos, who in response turned a corner, going out of Ferin's limited sight, opened a gym bag by the sounds of it, and returned with a long, thin item wrapped in cloth. It was small enough for the brute to slip through the jail cell bars.
Ferin unwrapped it quickly, a sense of enthusiasm rushing over him. He had a good idea what it was, and a fear inside of him that he would never be able to hold something like it again was perhaps worse than that of death. His eyes glowed when the poorly wrapped gift touched his skin.
The cloth wrapping the blade fell to the cold floor in shreds. Ferin raised the blade, admiring its artistic beauty. The blade itself was a silvery color, while its inner core was a light purple. It began at the hilt with half the width of Ferin's old buster sword, but quickly thinned to being somewhat bigger of a standard blade. The hilt was perhaps what captured Ferin's eyes most of all: it was shaped like that of an angel's wings, and the angel's hands clasped around the blade, giving it the appearance that the blade was a light of energy emerging from the angel. The hilt was a mixture of a light blue and black metals.
"Not nearly as large as you're buster sword" Siegfred commented as Ferin observed the blade "but I think you will get used to its weight quickly enough."
"It's a wonderful feeling holding a weapon after being so certain that you would never hold it again. It's a better feeling than birth" Ferin noted, perhaps so caught in the blade's wonder that he didn't realize there were others there. Or perhaps he just didn't care.
"Or a first kiss?" Yuri joked, but Ferin didn't laugh.
"Not as much. Close though." Ferin responded plainly, still admiring the blade.
"A blade of such beauty needs a name" Siegfred reminded the Wolf.
"Edomfray" Ferin said, almost as if he had been waiting to say the word for his entire life.
"Edomfray? Freedom?" Vargos asked curiously, knowing some Latin.
Ferin nodded. "This blade will grant me freedom when Irvine and Seifer's blood drips from its edge. I will finally be free of this burden…" When Ferin turned his back to wander the room, admiring the blade, Yuri and Vargos gave Siegfred a 'What-are-you-doing?' stare, but Siegfred's look equally assured them.
"We need to get going Ferin" Siegfred reminded him, and when the last words were spoken, the jail bars opened up, and Yuri had in his hands Ferin's old trench coat, as well as a pair of jeans and socks slipped in between his fingers.
"You look like we'll have to fight" Ferin noticed. "Why not use the Para-magic that you used to get in?"
"We can only do so much, Wolf. Our Guardian Forces depleted much of their energy when we used the spells. We'll just have to fight our way out."
Ferin didn't respond to the answer. He just simply put his trench coat over his bare form and slipped on a pair of boots from a nearby locker. "Are we near?" Ferin asked, referring to the top exit of the prison.
"Yes" Yuri answered. "Two floors away."
"That's all for the good news, right?"
The three nodded, and when Ferin showed that he was ready to leave, they headed for the elevator, and then the fun would begin.
This is how it feels to be Ferin the Wolf:
You remembered everything in that moment you gripped your calloused hands around that magnificent blade, Edomfray. The wings, the angel, the glow of it, every aspect of the blade reminded you of your shady past, of everything that brought you to this moment.
You remember your life in Deling as a child, of ten years as a servant to that brute, that poor excuse of a man, blaming everything on the weaker ones, using Darwinism as a horrible excuse to make himself not the cause of his poor state.
That man, so weak, so attached to physical objects that gave him so little pleasure at the cost of so much. You knew even then, as a child, that the man was a weak minded fool, only caring for himself. The fact that he took you in from a mother who couldn't afford you didn't erase the that fact that it was because of him that you had to beg on the streets for just a few measly Gil so that he could inject some substance into his body, or drink some horrible smelling drink. And what did YOU get for the effort?
A savage beating nearly every time.
But, it was when you were beaten mercilessly that the Wolf began to claw at you, that it began to speak to you, to mend your soul and spirit, to train you, to make you the Wolf when the time would come.
When that man slammed his fist at your chin, the Wolf said "You are stronger than he is Ferin. Hold on! Hold to yourself! Find your strength!"
When the man would throw a shattered beer bottle at you, the Wolf would say: "Resist the urge; you will know when to attack. That is what it means to be a Wolf, Ferin. Not to charge in alone and mindlessly, but together and with purpose."
When you would be kicked mercilessly, the Wolf implored to you. "Have you failed?"
"No."
"Who are you?"
"I am the Wolf"
"And what does the Wolf do?"
"He learns when to strike back at his oppressors, together with his brothers as a pack."
"Good pup, you're learning quickly."
And learn you did: for ten years you slowly learned how to survive in a harsh world, learned what it meant to be a wolf. You quickly formed a pack with other pups, and you survived the harsh streets of Deling by day, and endured countless strikes by your 'father' by night. You and your pack would strike at other packs, surrounding them, taking from them what you're pack needed to survive.
You remember well when you ran from that poor excuse of a father, you and your pack. You left Deling far behind, nearly erasing it from your thoughts, and choose a destination to settle your dark lives, and to create golden ones of opportunity and success.
You choose Balamb, and as a pack you traveled slowly, but with purpose. You would board trains when needed, stole from small villagers when the need arose itself. You did whatever it took to make it to your destination.
And when you laid eyes on that silver structure, a great warmth filled your heart. The Wolf told you that your ultimate test was to begin.
That is what it is like to be Ferin the Wolf, a man who even as a child was oppressed.
But there is more to tell, and now you leave the past, for the present.
The Wolf speaks to the Man. Prepare yourself, Wolf. You have found a pack. Now you must strike.
"Yes" you say, agreeing with your friend.
Become one with the Pack.
"I will."
Strike with the Pack.
"No other way."
Don't be a hero, Wolf, or you will be dead.
"There are no heroes in battle. Only victors."
The elevator doors slam open, a guard yells something at you, and more come to his call.
They too are a pack. Whose is stronger?
"Mine."
Prove it. Stay as one, strike as one, be one! Go Wolf!
You obey your old friend, sending Edomfray into the ground, forcing a wave of energy to split the opposing Pack apart. Their yells are silenced by gunfire by one of your pack-members, the yells of another and the encouragement of a third.
More are coming Wolf. What now?
"One must know when to retreat."
You direct the pack up a flight of stairs, and when the last one crosses it you summon a wall of fire to protect them, preventing more packs from chasing you down. But that does not prevent them from being attacked on the floor above, and you realize that when an explosion from a set of magical missiles sends a few guard flying down the chasm.
Go!
You obey, leaping to aid your pack, sending Edomfray into a fool's gut, and with your free hand throwing another down the chasm. A brother says something to you, laying his warm hand on your shoulder. You acknowledge the warm gesture, and follow him up another flight of stairs, towards the dessert sky.
Many more packs are in pursuit, not wanting you to escape. They want you dead. But, you have faced far too many packs before to be allowed to be downed now. You must escape this soaring prison.
The prison is suspended, practically a giant drill dug into the desert earth. The great desert wind almost tears at you're flesh; they make your skin crawl. They make you want to leap off the very structure to your death just to escape the pain.
A brother says 'It was nearer to the ground before!' You agree with him, believing him. Trust is like life or death in a pack – if you don't trust your pack, how can you trust yourself?
Decide quickly what to do. There isn't much time.
You scan the surrounding area quickly, wishing to find something…anything to bring you to solid ground. Then you realize a horrible truth.
There's nothing. There's no way down, except by some mechanism inside the prison. And there is no turning back now. Now, you can only move onward.
You know what you must do. It sounds insane, it sounds suicidal, it sounds like the end, but it's the only path besides certain death.
You jump.
