A/N: It seems a lot of you are waiting for Quistis to re-enter this fic. I am sorry to disappoint, but she will not appear until Part 2 (Chapter 9). This fic is primarily about Seifer, and you must remember that the first half is titled Exile. She will eventually play a very major role...just not for a few chapters yet.

I'll wait the signs to come
I'll find a way
I will wait the time to come
I'll find a way home

Chapter 6: Time to Come

Seifer had watched the two SeeDs from a distance as they confronted Randy Holt, Ekalaka's obligatory nutcase. In reality, the man probably had nothing on Seifer when it came to state of mind, but it was nice to have the attention and whispers drawn elsewhere for once. He knew that Holt probably wouldn't let the SeeDs cross into his lawn, or even go within feet of his fence, because of their relationship to that large and elusive thing called the government. Holt was one of those small fish who was convinced that his place in the world was infinitely more substantial than it really was. Seifer highly doubted there was a government on the face of the planet that knew Holt as anything more than a census statistic.

In any case, he was proving himself to be quite handy for the moment.

Quietly and with the patience of a wild cat stalking its prey, he observed the two SeeDs from his position down the street. The blonde one, the one that reminded him so much of Quistis, stood with a long rifle in her hands and was fiddling impatiently with it. Her partner, a dark man who clearly wanted the world to know that he was deep and brooding, looked as if he would have rather just put a bullet through Holt's head rather than listen to his rant.

Have to be careful of him, Seifer noted. He doesn't ask questions.

The blonde man that had been talking to Holt threw up his hands and retreated. The three conferred for a short time, then started next door just as Seifer had anticipated. Perfect...perfect.

He just needed to make sure that they wouldn't be able to link him to the attacks, and then he could leave. He still wasn't quite sure how he was going to accomplish that, he only knew that he couldn't let SeeD track him. When it came down to it, he'd do what he had to. His life was at stake.

Slipping down the street, Seifer kept a wary eye on the trio as they asked the neighbor woman for passage through her yard. Randy Holt perked up and let loose his grip on his shotgun when he saw Seifer approaching.

"Morning," he smiled broadly. "See them bastards there? Wanted to get through my yard. Government assholes."

"They're SeeD, aren't they?" Seifer feigned ignorance and shook Randy's outstretched hand.

"Say they're here after some monster," he shrugged.

"Monster?" Seifer snorted. "Monsters have never been a problem here before. We can take care of ourselves without their help. Anything new is going on here, it's something that happened because of them."

Holt stiffened, his mind working over all of the possibilities. His speckled face contorted, but he didn't voice any of his newly spawned fears. Instead he looked Seifer in the eye and asked, "So, what're you doing here?"

"Was wondering if I cut through your lawn," Seifer admitted. "Don't say anything about it, but I'm tailing the SeeDs. Don't really trust them."

Holt nodded emphatically and waved a hand toward his house. "Sure, go right ahead. Don't let them get the jump on you though."

"I won't," Seifer grinned. Ideally, it would be the other way around. Still, it couldn't hurt to be careful. "Thanks a lot." He jogged past Randy Holt and through his snow encrusted front yard. The stuff crunched under his feet, frozen on top into a solid sheet that cracked around his footprints. Having to pick his feet up high slowed him down, and his heart beat started to speed up.

As he jogged, and then sprinted, he left Randy Holt and his house far behind. The woods enveloped him, returning his senses to that of the animal that lived inside of him. In his desperation, he wasn't quite sure where to begin. The trees jutted up from the ground all around him, and a blanket of flawless snow was snuggled in between them. The only footprints he could find were his own, and a few spots where ice falling from tree branches had broken the snow blanket.

Grumbling to himself, he paused for a moment to think and swept his hood off with his right hand.

He knew that the SeeDs would probably start in the place he'd been spotted. So, it made sense that he'd been seen somewhere behind Holt's house. He couldn't remember much of the night in question, so it was really anybody's guess where he'd been and what he'd done. Although, Petey had told him that he'd been sighted in the valley between Ekalaka and the Absarokas. That left a fairly narrow swath of land, one he was much more familiar with than the SeeDs who were probably running on the same information.

Reaching into his coat, Seifer withdrew Hyperion. He hadn't needed to use it in a long time, and it felt heavy in his hands. The long blade shimmered in the morning light, the groove down the side meticulously cleaned. Hyperion wasn't his only weapon anymore, but he still took good care of it.

Trees flashed by on either side of him as he advanced down into the valley. Rising up above the trees he could see the Absaroka mountain range. They were the very ones that he had crossed coming into the town just a short while ago. His life seemed to be circular, always leading him back to the same places.

His boots pounded against the ground, filling his ears with the sound of his own advance. It was a heady heartbeat, and when he stopped to regain his orientation, the world was cast into silence.

This silence was broken quite suddenly by the low rumble of someone clearing their throat.

Startled, Seifer spun around and spotted his enemy standing in his own footsteps, an ugly black growth upon the pearly woodland floor.

"I know who you are," the SeeD announced. "Do you know who I am?"

Seifer gripped Hyperion more tightly and eyed the SeeD carefully, taking him in and wondering why he was waiting to attack. The man was dressed in his SeeD uniform, a conglomeration of black and gold. Hanging from his shoulders was a fluffy Garden coat modeled, Seifer supposed, after Squall's. It was longer, but it had that same furry collar that had become the rage after Squall's successful defeat of Ultimecia. Around the man's waist was a thick leather belt that had a variety of little baggies and assorted weaponry attached to it. Two black straps that pulled down against the coat were the only hint to what hung on his back, probably a sword.

"Should I?" Seifer finally asked derisively.

"Darshan Zinnovy," the man replied slowly. "And you...well...you are Seifer Almasy."

"Smart boy," Seifer sneered. "Want a cookie?"

Darshan stood stoically, his feet spread apart. His dark eyes were piercing, and from under his mop of dark hair he seemed to be searching through Seifer to dig up every horrible thing he'd ever done. Still, there was a small hint of curiosity. Seifer got the impression he'd surprised Darshan.

"Where are you going?" he finally asked.

Seifer grunted and slid hyperion through the snow. "Don't screw with me," he rolled his eyes. "You know where I'm going."

Darshan's eyes narrowed, puzzlement showing for the first time on his face. "You don't want us to find the monster." He paused for a moment, and then voiced the obvious question. "Why?"

Seifer stared at him, wondering what the next move was and weighing his options. Of course, he couldn't just tell him why he was off in the woods trying to stop them. Of all the people to suddenly show up, he supposed that he was one of the most unexpected. That was an advantage he hadn't counted on. Still, there was at least one other SeeD in the area, and he wasn't going to dismiss her. This man was only half of the equation, and he was working blind.

"I can't let you," Darshan shook his head, reaching to his back to draw out the short sword that rested there. "I used to admire you, you know...back at Garden. You held everyone in the palm of your hand with fear. Nobody crossed you, and you got respect." He swallowed visibly, causing Seifer to ponder for a moment what sort of effect he'd had on Darshan so long ago. "Even heroes die. I can't let you stop me here."

"Didn't think you would," Seifer replied, ignoring the first part of his speech.

Darshan crouched, his grip solid on his sword, and then with a flash he advanced. Out of practice, Seifer barely countered with Hyperion in time. Darshan had the gift of speed, and his light sword whipped through the air with a menacing hiss. Seifer parried hard with his right arm, using the weight of hyperion to overpower his opponent.

Curling one lip up in effort, Darshan leapt back and held one hand out in front of him.

"Meteo-"

Seifer rushed at him before he could finish the spell, not prepared to withstand a strong magical attack. He slammed into Darshan with his shoulders, knocking the other man to the ground. A loud breath puffed out of his small frame, and as his eyes rolled back he lashed out with the short sword again, catching Seifer's arm but only managing to rip through his coat.

It only took a moment for Darshan to regain his breath, and he vaulted back up onto his feet with determination and an unceasing will to win. Seifer swung hyperion broadly, triggering when the moment was right. But Darshan slithered out of the way just in time. But Seifer surprised him with something that Garden didn't teach and landed a hard punch with his free hand. Darshan reeled back with surprise, blood from his broken lip dribbling hotly down his chin. He wiped it away, shaking drips of crimson into the snow.

"There are no rules to battle, you know," Seifer grunted.

Darshan came at him again, short sword sailing. It took all of Seifer's command to keep the blade from ripping through his body, and with his attention diverted he didn't notice his opponent retrieve a second weapon. He felt a sharp jab of pain in his arm as the small dagger ripped through his forearm, releasing a steady stream of blood that quickly began to soak the downy material of Seifer's coat. The searing pain reverberated up his arm to fill his entire body, making adrenaline surge up within him.

Seifer kicked Darshan's feet out from under him, dropping him to the ground again, and this time didn't waste his opportunity. He let hyperion drop with all it's weight and managed to catch Darshan in the leg as he tried to scramble away. Nearly growling, Seifer leapt on top of the other man, crushing him down into the earth. Rolling him over, Seifer let loose with a furious volley of fists. They connected hard with Darshan's face, splitting Seifer's knuckles open so that their blood mixed. He felt Darshan's nose break under the force of one of his hits, and with another he felt a tooth become permanently dislodged.

Groaning miserably with pain, Darshan dug his dagger as far as he could into Seifer's thigh which was holding his hand down.

Howling and bleeding anew, Seifer rolled off of him and stumbled away clutching his wound.

Panting and spitting blood, Darshan pulled himself precariously to his feet. He stumbled drunkenly with pain, one of his knees locking while the other refused to. He regained his footing at last and reached down to his belt, pulling out yet another weapon. Seifer stared at him, dizzy with loss of blood and agony. Hyperion was still clutched in his right hand, and with less gusto than before, he prepared himself for the next volley.

Behind Darshan, like a ghost materializing from the woods, a black form suddenly emerged. The color of pitch, it stood out against the snow like an angry blemish. And it growled, deep and menacingly. The sight of the wolf burned into the back of Seifer's eyes and spun around him, blurring out the figure of the oncoming Darshan. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and the searing pain ebb slowly away.

It rose up inside of him, bubbling out of his skin. He twisted back away from Darshan and the wolf, fearing the latter more. Drool ran down his chin, and he felt himself collapse into the cold snow. The world spun about, a massive swirl of color and sound. And in its vortex, he slowly began to break apart. His back arched, and rolling nausea cascaded over him. He could feel it overtaking him, wiping logical thought from his mind until there was only an empty fury.

He rose up and screamed, the release a roar that echoed off the mountains. Rage filled him, and with a low growl he pounced on the terrified figure of Darshan Zinnovy. Zinnovy's features had blanched, his face as white as the snow. The beast that hovered over him triggered within him sudden and horrible understanding.

Darshan screamed loud and long, the sound fueling the beast that loomed over him. It attacked, no longer with the calculation and desperation of a human being, but with the sheer ferocity and force of a true monster. Gnashing claws tore limbs from Darshan's body, flinging them across the scarlet snow into trees and rocks. Blood lust and a strange, pained devotion fueled the beast, lending to him the feral strength of madness.

Blood. So much blood.

His thoughts were diminished, whispers in a storm.

God...please...

He ravaged the now limp body of the SeeD, feeling flesh slip between his claws. Pain. Pain. So much pain. He roared again, tasting metallic blood in his mouth.

The wolf jumped out then in front of him once more, a disruption amongst the beast's most inner thoughts. He retreated, repelled by the canine for reasons he couldn't begin to fathom. And then, the urge stuck. Retreat. Run. Escape. Go -- go and don't stop.

He ran, half crazed with split horror and animalistic frenzy, and left the black wolf behind to stand amongst the tattered remains of Darshan Zinnovy. The gray, who had all along been hidden in the trees, had already left in a flash of silver. The whole site stank of death and evil, leaving Thero with a hard stone in his stomach. He stepped back into the trees, concealing himself again, to watch them arrive.

The blonde woman stumbled into the scene first, her face struck with utter horror. She spun around, her mouth covered with her hand, and nearly ran into the man behind her, who caught her right before she bent over double and vomited into the snow.

Thero watched and pitied them. But, he wasn't theirs. And they still wouldn't suffer so much as they thought. They didn't understand.

"I..." she choked. "I heard him screaming. Oh God..."

She sunk down into the snow, and Thero could nearly feel all of her emotions bleeding away into the earth she was huddling. For the moment, she was broken. But she wouldn't stay that way. She was strong, he could feel it.

Maybe, he thought, she could be it.

He didn't know if she had the capacity. But it was possible.

Turning, he sprinted off into the snow, following Pallas' tracks in pursuit of their real problem. It was getting worse. His lungs puffed as he ran. The time had come, the one they'd been mumbling about for months. And there were only a few options left, ones they needed to take advantage of immediately.

He easily caught up with Pallas, and the two stood on the lip of the valley together and watched the beast running through it's belly, dragging along all of his sins and pain behind him, stumbling along the very edge of damnation.