Chapter Two – To Fall is to Rise

The Estharian weapon depot KARAM-64 was located deep in the heart of what was the Salt Flats, an area made infamous through urban legends and a many folk tale for being the birth place of Esthar, which had defended itself for hundreds of years with the use of knowledge and power intertwined with dark, calculative and deceiving politics that could easily be related to a boy bullying those younger and weaker than him through fear of getting into juvenile and foolish conflicts.

If urban myths can have any reliability at all, the Salt Flats were a thousand years ago used as a project by Esthar to create an ultimate weapon; a way to use decaying death as an actual fuel for a weapon of mass destruction. The table turned on them, however, when the secret project went through some type of accident, and murdered thousands in the local vicinity. Not being the ones to be totally heartless, the leaders of the project abandoned both it and the wasteland that was fueling the project, and with that decision came the consequence that the true story of Esthar was lost forever.

Alas, hardly a soul in Esthar was interested in learning any sort of connection between the frozen hell and the ancient days of their nation; any place that reeked of death would not be well accepted in being a birth place of the nation that is supposedly the place that has the greatest life style the Planet can offer.

And so, after little debate, the Salt Flats were destroyed. Obviously superior technology available to only Esthar was used in the task, but the actual method was kept on closed ears. Few knew exactly how it was done. Then again, even fewer cared. The Salt Flats were a constant embarrassment to Esthar's name since the beginning, and it was a welcomed relief among man of the country's populous when it was finally eradicated.

If one heard that someone was to search for this facility, KARAM-64, one could also presume many things; one of them being the person in question was either a maniac or a fool. Nonetheless, most people that would go out and search for the weapon depot would find nothing: just a flat, pale and lifeless plain that seemed to stretch for miles, with the occasional mountain and boulder that rose from the Planet's flesh. To the unprepared, it would be a hopeless mission.

To the prepared however, and those willing to walk a few dozen miles off the beaten path, KARAM-64 is a surprisingly easy military facility to find. All one needs is to simply fiercely and violently kidnap and interrogate an employee of the famed Lunar Gate Research facility who was foolish enough to leave his place of employment late at night and alone, giving no witnesses to any sort of crime.

Using the night as cover, the elusive Ferin "the Wolf" sprinted from one large protruding rock to the next, never staying still in any place for too long, taking heed the warning from his 'informant' that there were underground sensors that sensed unmoving objects. From one boulder to the next, the Wolf sprinted onward, never allowing the occasional hill or careless fall to slow him down for too long.

If Ferin was to have his watch on him at the time, the large and small hand would have reached eleven the moment he set his deep blue eyes on the weapon facility, engraved away in a mountain that was miles off of the paved route given to the regular traveler.

The weapon depot was a small, unthreatening and deceiving facility, with its physical appearance resembling nothing more than an over expanded concrete bunker. A poorly placed and constructed fence of rolling barb wire was the depot's only sort of protection beyond the sensors that dotted the surrounding area, but even they posed no immediate threat to any invaders such as Ferin. They merely gave an alarm, and those at the depot, numbering only about ten or fifteen soldiers and one captain, would ask for aid from another neighboring facility, wait for an unknown period of time for a response, and depending on that response would go out and investigate the sensors' signals. Of course, by the time they would get there the things that very well could of have had triggered off the sensors would of have been long gone.

Or in Ferin's case, right at their doorstep.

Drawing his Flamberge, Ferin slowly revealed himself from the boulder that was his cover for the brief seconds that he examined the weapon depot's pitiful defenses. Licking his lips, narrowing his eyes, gripping the red handle of his weapon, Ferin charged through the barb wire, swatting the foolish fence with his blade as if it was a fly. The half drunk guard in front of the entrance could barely aim his rifle at Ferin before he met his fist, knocking out the foolish soldier for a few hours at the least.

Using his shoulder as a battering ram, Ferin practically tore apart the rusted door, and two soldiers sitting idly by were caught by surprise of his arrival. One went flying with a swipe of Ferin's blade, the wave of energy that erupted from the action knocking him out. The other was pinned against the wall with a well tuned kick in the stomach, and was knocked out when Ferin slammed the soldier's head into the wall.

Treading slowly now, Ferin paved his way through the remaining soldiers that remained, using every means necessarily to not murder a single one of them. The only exception to this rule was the captain, who had dashed for the radio in a poorly made attempt to gain reinforcements and capture Ferin. Not allowing that to happen, Ferin regrettably threw the massive blade into the captain's back, killing him in a gory and inglorious blow. When he drew his blade from the dead carcass, Ferin felt his stomach turn: he had killed an innocent man. The Captain was merely performing his duties. He knew not of where this captain had hailed from: for all he knew, Ferin had just made a wife a widow, and some son or daughter fatherless.

That last statement nearly made the warrior burst into tears. Forcing them back, Ferin sheathed his blade, and made his way through the dazed bodies towards the room containing the item he had fought and killed for.

It was Hyperion.


It is said that men's dreams come and go on ships. What exactly the ship sails on does not matter to them; the skies or seas didn't affect men's mind and opinion on the vessels. As long as they sailed on something, as long as they bring news from far away places, as long as they give the idea of leaving an old life and brining a new one, ships will always remain the memorizing and almost mythical vessels that carry men's dreams.

Of course, there were exceptions to the rule: some had seen this dream, and were tired of it. Seifer Almasy, with his dirty blonde hair, stout chin and vertical scar that seems to almost stretch across his face, Seifer shows the appearance of a man who has seen the truth behind the dreams that ships export and import whenever they dock at Fisherman's Haven: dreams are death. Dreams are destruction; dreams are oblivion. Worst of all, dreams are a tunnel that one sprints through, hoping dearly in their hearts to find the end of. And when they reach it, they find nothing. No happiness, or joy, no sense of completion or self discovery; no indication of becoming a better man at all. The only thing he found at the end of that long and grueling tunnel was depression.

At eight thirty two on the fourth of March, Seifer was at where he always was at this time: a bar. This was the only place he wanted to be, the only place he needed to be. He didn't need to be doing work of any kind, or enlisting in some bullshit army. He could hardly care what was going in the world around him. The way he saw it, the world didn't need him and he didn't need the world. The only thing he gave a damn for was his vodka.

The old knight stared into the glass holding his vodka, the oval container barely five inches high. Holding it between his thumb and pointing finger, Seifer swirled the colorless liquor, starring into its transparent contents, seeing an eerie imagery to his own life. Before, he was so full of life, sarcasm and the occasional empty death threat.

Now, he was a grumbling old veteran in a depression that no one short of God could be capable of pulling him out off.

'Shit' he though to himself. He swallowed the vodka down, draining the glass. He ordered some more, never one to be satisfied with just one glass of the drink.

As he drowned himself in his miseries, he transported himself years long before he met Ultimecia and his entire life spiraled down to hell and below, even before his first failure at the SeeD exams when he was sixteen. He remembered that week when he was just fifteen, when his over excitement got the worst of him, and he almost killed a friend.

'To be fourteen is to be young, arrogant and a major fucking pain in the ass. I remember that day to screw up all days like it was just yesterday. Raijin got detention for trying to set up fireworks outside the girl's dorm. And being that the big idiot that he is, he practically set the whole freaking school on fire. And there was nothing for me to do without the big lummox since Squall was no where to be found, no matter how long Fuj and I searched for scar face: it turned out he was in some long ass meeting with some instructors for special treatment or some screwed up excuse like that. So there were me and Fujin: bored out of our good for nothing lives in my dorm. It really does suck not having anything to do: during class at least we actually had crap to do. Then it makes it easier to sleep. When there isn't even crap to do, it's practically freaking impossible to get some z's. So then I came up with this great idea to head for the training center, just because I was feeling trigger happy.'

' "Why? There's nothing fun there Seifer. Just a bunch of plants that move. They couldn't even nibble on us." '

' "So, I'm bored and it's better to chop up sorry excuses for plants than hand around doing nothing, right?" '

' "I guess." '

' "Come on then, lets go already!" So, I got my gunblade, Fujin got that shuriken of hers. Anyways, we made our way to the training center. The first time I was there, when I was likes eight I think, I was totally mesmerized by all the plants and flowers. I never saw so many big trees in the same place, not to mention all the birds that were there. So, I was kinda like 'holy shit!' or some totally over exaggerated look like that. But by then I had seen the center like a billion times, so it was not a big deal. We hunted a bunch of weak beasts for like an hour, since that was all that could really stand up to me and Fujin. Now, if the whole trio was with us, those poor excuses for plants would have been gone in like ten minutes. Then again, we were definitely over cocky; more times than one I almost got the three of us in more trouble than we could chew. Raijin and Fujin even admitted that one day there was definitely going to be a time when I was going to get the three of us into some trouble we would never be able to get us out of. I was too much of a dumb ass back then; caring for the then and not the after, not what could happen after; not caring of what could happen to my friends. I thought myself invincible; I thought that nothing bad would ever happen to me.'

'I was never more wrong.'

' "Oh, hell yes! That is the way to do it, you worthless good for nothing shits! Hell yeah" And while I was showing off my stupidity, I was slashing empty air in a pitiful attempt to show how much I was a badass. And then, I did something I would always regret, for as long as I can remember anything. I twirled around, and slashed what I thought was empty air. The only problem was, I didn't slash empty air. There was a scream…Fujin's scream. I went pale. I slashed Fujin right across the right side of the face. Her face was covered in blood, her dark red hand covering her eye. She kept on screaming, and I just kept watching as her blood dripped onto the green arena, creating a scene of pure and complete horror. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't fir the longest run over to here and help her. I was too horrified.'

'I found out that my friends and I aren't invincible, that were just like everybody else.'

'I finally managed to muster enough courage to place Fujin's head on my lap. "PAIN! MUCH…," she screamed that maniacal voice of hers that she would become synonymous with. "HELP!" '

' "Fuj?" '

' "HELP!" '

'I may of screwed up, but there was no way I was not going to help my friend when she needed me; so, I lifted her up, and brought her to old doctor Kadowaki. The moment Fujin was in the infirmary, I was practically thrown out by one of her assistants. I pounded on the door, wanting to be let in. Of course they wouldn't though: trouble causing Seifer should never be allowed in a quite place like the infirmary, that's probably what they said. So, I decided to man it out. I got comfortable, and waited outside the infirmary. I wanted to be as close to Fuj as I could. It was an hour later until Doctor Kadowaki came out and let me wait in the waiting room. So, I waited in there for a long time: it was so long I could barely remember what time it was when the Doctor came out.'

' "How is she?" '

' "She'll be fine Seifer. But why? Why do you have to be so reckless? Why do you always have to be the one to prove himself? Fujin almost died because of you, don't you know that. What can't you be like Squall? At least he can control himself: he doesn't slash people across the face and make them lose an eye and pop a blood vessel." '

'Squall…again he was part of my life. Again he was the better: again he was the one who was better at everything I tried to be. Squall was the reason why I lived: to beat him. To constantly face him, so I could prove that I am not just Seifer. I am THE Seifer. Again, Squall was my better: he was a better person. He knew how to control himself. I did not. He can keep cool: I could warm coffee just by touching it. He knows what it means to be ready for the next corner: I live for the now.'

'Once again, Squall was my superior.'

'Then Kadowaki told me that her eye was pretty much useless, so they had to plug it out. A synthetic one would be imported from Galbadia as soon as they filled out the paper work. Of course, Fujin never wanted me to remember what I did, so when she got better she just got an eye patch. Of course, the eye patch was more of a reminder what happened than if she had just gotten that fake eye. That wasn't the bad news though: that blood vessel that popped will affect her speech forever: she would only be able to speak in screams and short, unintelligible sentences. She would be seen as a mental retard for the rest of her life.'

'And it was all my fault. Everything was my fault. My scar, Ultimecia, Fujin…everything bad that ever happened to anyone I knew was my fault.'

Hours had passed since Seifer had drunk himself useless. He could hardly how much vodka he drank; nor could he remember how long he was in his memories. The only thing that gave him pleasure these days was the drink; an odd contrast from the proud young man he was in his youth. Like most, he could be considered that of a bully and somewhat of a moron, but at least then he was proud of who he was. Now, he was just another washed out veteran drinking his misery away.

"One more drinks, tender!" the drunk said, swinging his glass in the air lazily. The bartender said nothing as he poured Seifer another cup of vodka. The knight swallowed the fiery liquor down his throat, ignoring the fact that in a few short moments the taste would escape his lips, and he would demand another drink, adding more to his drunken state. "Another one, if you wills please," Seifer requested, tapping his slimy cup affectionately.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" the bar tender demanded more than asked.

"I'll tell you when I have had enough, and right now, I don't think I've had enough. The two of you cants fools me now! I'm am nots even close to be drunken!"

"I think you should take a break Seifer," the bartender said in a commanding tone. He took the glass away from the drunken mercenary.

"Aw shits," Seifer moaned pathetically before lying his head on the bar counter, allowing his drool to stain the worn wood before he fell into a drunken slumber.

Seifer was awakened from the dream hours later with a splash of freezing cold water from the bar's kitchen. The now somber Seifer groaned as he lifted his lazy head up, his body still weary from the slumber.

"All right bonehead, time to wake up. It's closing time."

"Shit," Seifer mumbled under his breath. He managed to get his aching body up and out the door a few minutes later, after falling to the floor a few times.

Leaving the bar, the Knight made his way through Fisherman's Haven's many alleyways and roads, avoiding contact with the few pedestrian when needed, never in the mood to scan the growl or face of disgust on some fool's face. He eventually made it to his house, a pitiful house given to him by Mayor Dobe more out of command from the United Legislation than anything else, and the condition of the house showed it. The house was made completely out of scrap metal, the floor was not even paved, and when Seifer first received the house it's door barely hanged on its hinges. The shack was caught between two much larger buildings, the pitiful structure giving the appearance of being pushed into oblivion by its larger counterparts. It was truly a pitiful home for a pitiful existence.

Seifer walked through the empty doorway, the door having fallen off of its hinges long ago. The one room house was in complete darkness, since the lone light bulb that was Seifer's only source of light when night came exploded months ago after overuse.

Seifer walked through the darkness to where he knew there was a table holding a nearly burnt away candle leaned on it's curved side. He waved his hands lazily by his side, to try and get the ache out of them. Of course, that didn't work. He felt the cold, rotting side of the table, and he searched for the candle, which he found easily enough. His hands searched for the pile of matches that he used to light the candle on a nightly basis, but they weren't where they were supposed to be. He didn't even find any ashes of where they probably would have been. It was like that one area where they were was cleaned spotless.

"What the hell…?" Suddenly, the room was lit. A man in a red trench coat was in front of Seifer, on the opposite side of the table. Seifer jumped back in shock, not exactly expecting a well trained man wearing a trench coat holding who knows what behind it to enter his house. The fact that the man was grinning devilishly did not help much either. "Who the hell are you?"

The man licked his lips and threw back his black hair. "I am Ferin…Ferin Alengar. Do you remember, Seifer Almasy?"

"Fuck no! Why the hell would I? Did I kill a friend of yours or something? If so, you're probably wanting a little payback, right? Right? Well tough luck shit face! I could care less what you do to me."

Ferin chuckled, and his grin lessened from a wide one to a small and calculative one. "Interesting. You were so proud Almasy, so very proud. Well, would like to know how I got this?" Seifer's eyes trailed down, realizing Ferin's hands were holding something. It was a blade, silvery in color and appearance, a straight sword. It had no sword handle, unless you counted the handle that resembled that of a pistol. Seifer's eyes went wide. It was Hyperion.

Seifer cursed under his breath. "Where the hell did you get that?"

"I took a detour around Esthar."

"What the hell do you fucking want?"

"Simple. I want answers."

"To what?"

"The truth; I want the truth from you. Were you really possessed by Ultimecia?"

"I…what? I told the judge that!"

"Did you? Were you being truthful?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

"It is not exactly hard to lie. Of course, you don't have a sword pointed at your throat."

"What sword?"

"This sword." Before Seifer could say anything in protest, Ferin was on top of the table, knees bent and at eye level, with his Flamberge in his hand, mere meters away from Seifer's pale throat. "Willing to talk?" Seifer mumbled a yes, and stepped backwards slowly as Ferin made his way off the table. "Good. Now, were you or were you not possessed by Ultimecia.?"

"I..I…"

"Will the sword away from your throat help at all?"

"S-sure man…whatever you say." Ferin nodded, and sheathed his sword over his shoulder. "Now, talk. And don't lie."

"I…I…wanted...wanted my dream…"

"You allowed her to control you then?"

"Fuck no, you kidding me? I hated teacher bossing me around at Balamb! Why would I let some old bitch take control of me literally?"

"So, she did it forcefully?"

"Yeah…"

Ferin paused, rubbing his knuckles sensitively. "Seifer, do you enjoy living the life of a drunk?" Seifer didn't respond. He just turned his back. "You never wanted this did you? You thought you get freedom, when you got only shit to live under. Would that be a true statement?"

"…Sure."

"Do you want redemption?

Seifer's head turned slowly to face Ferin. "What did you say?"

"You killed our brothers at Balamb. I am offering you redemption."

"Our brothers? What the hell do you mean, our brothers? I don't even have a mom or dad!"

"The Crash of the Gardens, you drunk idiot. When you and Trabia's Generals led Trabia Garden to attack Balamb Garden at Centra." Seifer dipped his head down out of sadness. "Do you want it?"

"What the hell can I do right? Everything is my fault…the war…Fujin…this scar…everything bad that happens is because of me. What can I do to fix that?"

Ferin turned to the table, taking Hyperion off of its surface. He then offered it to Seifer, handle first. "Take it. Follow me."

"Follow you?"

"We'll fix everything we ruined in our pitiful lives. They say that sometimes you must let God resolve the sins of man. I am not going to wait for it, and neither will you. If you are truly innocent, you will follow."

"And if I am guilty?"

"You will die a slow and pitiful death here; in this pile of shit you call a home. You, the Knight of a sorceress, will die here. Do you really want that?"

Seifer grinned. He then grabbed Hyperion from Ferin's hand. "I'm no Knight…but I'll follow. I've got nothing better to do anyways. Dobe is a really big fucking pain in the ass, you know what I'm saying? He doesn't like me…then again no in does. No place being in a place you're not liked."

Ferin nodded. "Follow me then." He walked for the exit, and Seifer followed him to where his boat was. And then, they sailed off into the South, towards where the sun rose over the orange sea. It was there, Ferin would later tell Seifer, that their journey would begin.