CHAPTER THREE

A SOLDIER'S Disrespect

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RAGE is a deep inner and misunderstood necessity – an often respected but feared feeling of course regret or disregard for lack of control. For the Ronso resting on Mt. Gagazet, it was a prime source of strength and need within them for survival. Without the Ronso to stand guard before the often sought, legendary entrance of Zanarkand, freedom would be granted for any of those daring to pass over the colossal land mass – presuming the daring adventurer could make it through the bitter cold of mounting snow, and past the growing ranks of deadly fiends.

Nonetheless, guarding the Forbidden City remained a deep, respected duty of the cat-like, towering race. Their thick, night-blue fur kept them warm and safe from the minor threats of fiends. Their handiness with weapons drove curious travelers away. From where the Ronso rested, the shift in seasons affecting the rest of the world – Besaid especially – went unnoticed here. The proud race prowling the mountain trails treated every day the same. Despite the snow matted in their thick fur, cold didn't touch their skin and the large muscles and strong bones beyond.

The Ronso's once respected stanza had been dramatically ruined as intruders were reported to be passing over the borders of Mt. Gagazet. Whether or not the rumors of the Paradise of Lights were true, a deep unsettlement had flowed through the people of Spira, whom were catching whim of this disturbing news. The Ronso were the strongest race in Spira, and if the rebel scum from Ivalice could so easily infiltrate their world, danger was a terrifying reality to them all.

The suppressed rumors of Zanarkand rose up once again, and the questioning of the city's existence started. Despite the Maesters' distinct claims that the legendary place didn't subsist and was just the Sky Pirates' foolish dream, news reports and stories spread from Luca over the Mainland and to the neighboring islands.

Despite the rumors offered, there was no evidence – outside a couple of reported sightings recently – proving there were intruders from Ivalice. The merchant ships that dared the seas to do business in the foreign world spoke quietly in awe of the technology and amazing sights spread over the lands. However, stories differed so greatly that it became hard to believe anything said about the opposing nation. A rumor had even started up that Ivalice wasn't very evolved at all, and was overly exaggerated. Another claimed that the world didn't even exist, and that it was only ocean that stretched onwards until it looped around to the other side of Spira.

A special choice of soldiers were being trained to act as mediators between the people and the clerics residing in the temples and Bevelle. Despite their goal to squash the uprising of rumors, the group was treated with thorough disgust as they flaunted their recent gain in superiority – often snatching various goods off stands in marketplaces, or pushing their ways through crowds and even exacting punishment upon disobedient citizens.

This disrespectful and disdained mistreatment of power brought a bad name down upon the rest of the members of SOLDIER. A squad recently and quickly dispatched to the Mi'ihen Highroad resting just outside of Luca's back parkway, scouted the mismatched roads of yellow, brown, and green with little hope of discovery. The disturbance of fiends had been quickly suppressed, and the early Spring crossings had begun.

It should have been a satisfying mission, but something felt discreet and missing in the activity. For ten years now, the members of the SOLDIER squad had been trained to act as the Maesters' forceful hand. The chairmen's ways were persecuted through faithfully following individuals to ensure peace through necessary force without the holy men having to stain their reputation directly.

A dishonorable method…

A man drabbed in the purple, gold-lined uniform marking him a SOLDIER, stood on the road's south trail overlooking the cavern resting as an open expanse of baby grass. The tall trees lining the cliffs and edges scent a soft, damp woodland smell with the light wind passing the open distance from the ocean. Shifting his piercing, green-blue gaze to the trench below, the youth spotted a fellow squad member crouching before something unseen with her back to him.

Waiting patiently, the youth was rewarded with an anxious look from the fellow SOLDIER as she gestured him down. Stepping quickly to the cliff edges descending into the trench, he leapt down with no heed for the bushes' branches catching at his thick clothing and tall boots. Landing firmly on the still half-frozen ground, the curious youth jogged his way towards his companion.

The girl – curled brown hair bouncing as she gazed back at him – shifted where she was hunched on her ankles to reveal her finding. Crouching down with a quickly hidden look of awe, the youth ran his fingers lightly over the old imprints of wide, almost duck-like feet. From the quick scan in either direction of the almost invisible trail, it was easy to tell the moving was shuffling and slow with close steps.

Mais met her companion's eyes knowingly, but as she opened her mouth to state the same thing they were both thinking, a voice drifted towards them firmly: "Squall!"

A sway of brunette locks hid the man's wondering look as he glanced back over his shoulder towards the highroad. A familiar figure stood pressed strangely against the half-dead scenery, waving his arms in the fashion of a distress signal. The gold embroidery of the man's uniform shown vividly in the waning sun's fiery glow. Red streaks streamed across the sky towards him like blood-trails, and Squall's mind flashed to the battle against the fiends that took place earlier. There was a hefty difference between scheduled training and real combat. Despite his inner need to back away, Squall's ten years of discipline had forbidden it, and he stood his ground just as well as the others.

However, Mais had observed his quiet exterior and unusual paleness afterwards as the local Summoner sent the fiends on their way to the Farplane. Though the girl remained quiet about her companion's clear uneasiness, it was a growing wonder in the back of her mind. Would Squall be able to suppress the urge the next time? Would he back away when they needed him most?

In truth, Mais sincerely hoped not. Although she secretly didn't wish this lifestyle upon the youth – having begun to almost regret it herself at times – she understand that Squall was obligated to his duties. He had spent most of his life training for this, and now that his seventeenth birthday had come and gone – and Winter had been driven back by the relieved sight of new budding – she wondered if he wasn't meant for something better.

However, Mais suppressed these thoughts quickly as Squall rose to his feet and stepped carefully around the vague trail. To the untrained eye, the cold ground remained the same great lumps of dirt as in any other area. To the SOLDIERs' enhanced vision and senses though, there were glimpses of a rare and organized but slow, identified race.

Kaye stood with thin face expressionless as he stepped back to allow his companions to step up on the highroad. Drawing level with the shorter man, Squall understood the serious look in Kaye's eyes long before he spoke.

With a firm and unwavering voice, the youth reported, "We've caught strange sightings of unidentifiable prints."

Thinking back to the trail lying below them, Squall gave a slow nod of understanding. With the evitable age of the footprints, it was safe to assume the unknown race was heavy set with large, strong feet to leave such an impression in the land. Mais gazed up from where she dusted the front of her uniform, and met Squall's eyes briefly before turning curiously to Kaye.

In a soft tone, she prompted with an incline of her head, "Were they almost web-like?"

Shaking his head slowly, the man just gestured them along as he strode down the pathway and over the bridge serving as an archway to either side of the cavern. The walk was smooth and undisturbed. The beginning chirps of crickets penetrated the squad's enhanced senses, but it soon became a natural sound and quickly disregarded. Mais however, smiled lightly at the joyous noise. It was a sign that peace had fallen over the area, and therefore their walk towards Kaye's sighting would be undisturbed.

Having fallen into thoughts of the encounter once again, Squall stared straight ahead. He would have been intrigued by the infamous highroad perhaps, if he didn't feel so distracted and offset from his fellow elite members. Somehow, he had thought that being a SOLDIER would be so much easier – take and carry out orders. A simple life, but filled with excitement, paid expanses, respect, and adventuring.

It was his first mission, and Squall's ambition had died as the fiends fell to the ground before him in fading explosions of balls of light. The corpses of men and women on the highroad hit a strong nerve in the man, making him uneasy. The elite members were taught that casualties were going to happen. Seeing it happen before him was much different then hearing about it and pretending that the SOLDIERs around him were victims as they lay sprawled across the training ground quietly. Seeing the real victims today made Squall realize how inaccurate his comrades' positions had been. They hadn't been missing limbs or throats. There'd been no spilled blood, fear-stricken faces, or sightless eyes.

What had his squad thought when they looked into those villagers' faces? Had they felt the same disgust curling in their stomach? Any remorse at that?

Realizing that they had come to a halt, Squall turned towards his companions – clearing his mind of these troubling and intruding thoughts. Kaye was looking to him expectantly. Mais wore a worried expression, and opened her mouth silently for a moment before closing it with a slow shake of her head. Without a word, she turned and strode to where the final two members of their group were spread out, studying the borders of several prints.

The sight of them drove all other worries from the youth's mind, and with a stern gaze, Squall strode purposely towards the two figures crouched with fingertips lightly brushing the ground. Pausing beside the edge of the wide, faint trail, Squall squinted down at the overlapping imprints. It was difficult to tell if they were of the same shape as the ones Mais discovered because of the number of times they'd been imprinted here.

Raising his gaze to follow their fading trail, Squall saw them head through the great stone gates and to the roads and mysterious world beyond. Who were they? What had caused such a large group to head north? No reports of the trail had been given to Bevelle until three days earlier. Those passing through the highroad could barely glimpse the footprints, and those who did must have discarded them as fiend or possibly Chocobo tracks. The Maesters knew better.

That's why they sent us here, Squall grimaced as he glanced back towards where the trail conspired from the rambles of old bushes and towering trees. To confirm their worries and disregard them – to tell the people what they want to hear.

What was that though? What was it that the people of Spira were expecting from Bevelle? From the Maesters? From him? Would the chairmen ask SOLDIER to lie to the people to comfort them and put an end to the string of rumors surrounding Spira and Ivalice?

"Squall." The quiet prompt almost went unheeded until the youth's mind registered the commanding voice.

Turning around, he saw Mais standing some ten feet away watching him with a quiet, composed expression. However, she wasn't the holder of the voice, and Squall directed his attention to the shorter woman standing before him. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a small, let loose bun. The strict, familiar face offered no comfort or worry as she continued to wait for his reaction.

Knowing he should have given a salute to his superior officer, Squall gave a half shrug, inquiring, "What is it, Professor?"

The color in Quistis Trepe's face withdrew at this statement, and she pursed her lips with a distinctive glare. When Squall didn't correct the former title, she instead disregarded it. Crossing her arms and resting her hands at either elbow, she gave her inferior a contempt look, stating in a firm, no-nonsense tone, "Mais mentioned that similar prints were found further down the road. What conclusion do you draw from this?"

What does she want from me? Squall wondered skeptically. Trepe had already received the news from Mais – why did she need his input?

With a sigh, Squall crossed his arms over his chest as well, saying tiredly with clear irritation, "I don't know. These aren't as distinct." When Quistis continued to watch him with an expectant look, Squall adverted his gaze. Staring vaguely at a part of the ground with a half made footprint separate from the others, he added more formerly, "It's possible they're the same, but it doesn't look like fiend steps. Too organized and slow – with a direct course." When Quistis only nodded in agreement with this, he turned his gaze back to her, saying, "You already know all this – why do you want to know what I think? What we tell the Maesters is what really matters anyways – not who does it."

Considering this information, the lead SOLDIER just gave another slow nod before gesturing towards him, saying instructively, "Understanding my squad's full extent on the situation lets me know how well the mission is progressing."

"So you can throw one of us away if we don't add up to your standards?"

The quiet talk between the remaining members of the squad, stilled as three pair of eyes landed squarely on them. A solemn look passed over Quistis' face as her brow narrowed warningly. Without a word, she turned on heel and headed towards the rest of the squad. Seeing the powerful walk in her stride, the three members stepped quickly aside to let her through – saluting as she passed. Quistis paid them no mind, and stood leaning heavily on one foot with arms still crossed – her back to them.

Mais exchanged nervous looks with Jin before he and Kaye split in either direction to scout the area more thoroughly. Now the girl stood facing Squall alone. The vacant, uncaring expression on his face revealed his lack of respect for their squad leader. Mais knew that Squall joined those who believed that Quistis was only made a squad leader because of her blood relation with Grand Maester Yo Mika. It was true that the proud woman wasn't much of a fighter, but she had understanding and strategy to back her. Mais wasn't sure what to make of that situation, but she knew that for a squad to work efficiently, all members had to work together.

Drawing level with the lone man now, Mais gazed into his handsome features – trying to find the cold layout of life hidden in his orbs. They remained as empty as the basis of rumors that had led to the creation of SOLDIER. In a quiet tone, the girl prompted carefully, "Do you have respect for anything? Anyone?" When Squall gave no reply, but continued to look at her, Mais thought that he may actually give a plausible answer. When the man turned his gaze away instead, she stepped back with a shake of her head. In mid-step, she glanced back at him, saying in a quiet, contempt voice, "Maybe you don't belong here after all…"

Night brought refreshing promises of quiet and the end of doubt and questioning – at least for a while. Cradled in the soft folds of the woolen blankets in the small bed pressed against one wall at the Travel Agency, Squall lay awake – staring up at the still shadows on the ceiling. It felt like they were lingering there, waiting to leap once he closed his eyes for sleep. The images of the day's events passed before his mind repeatedly until slumber became a faint dream itself.

'Do you have respect?'

Just another word – for suppressing your control and willpower to another.

'Maybe you don't belong here.'

Could have told anyone that…

'You don't belong here.'

The last partial taking of Mais' last words to him today struck Squall rigid. His heart beat hard against his chest, and a lump formed in his throat. The thought wasn't unreal, but a frightening reminder that maybe his life's ambition meant nothing in the end. Without SOLDIER, what was he? What was his purpose?

I don't have one, Squall assured himself. Thisis my purpose…to take orders and keep order. That's all.

Somehow, these suppressed, repeated words comforted him. Maybe it was because it'd been drilled into his mind every hour of every waking day under training. Being a SOLDIER meant being absolute in the one sole focus the elite group had been formed with. To do otherwise would be great disrespect to the Maesters, and Yu Yevon. It meant being shunned and treated as an infection amongst Spira's people.

For a moment, Squall began to truly wonder if Ivalice existed. What was it like there? Did the nation really lose control of power and the use of Machina? Were the rumors of wars and rivets of waves sent across the ocean really come from there? Paintings and tapestries could be seen littering walls, homes, and marketplaces; displaying images of the Promised Land. Despite differences in each with the artist's personal view, there were always distinct similarities that perked Squall's interest.

A light snort from across the space caught the youth's attention, and with arms folded on the pillow behind his head, he turned his gaze towards the dark masses of the other two men lying in the room. Kaye was turning in his sleep, blankets half spilling onto the floor. Quistis and Mais lay in the next room. No peep had come from them, and the Travel Agency resting halfway alongside the Mi'ihen Highroad remained quiet and peaceful. For a while, Squall allowed himself to be lost in the reassurance the decorative structure provided. At least at night, there was no one to pass judgment on him and his thoughts remained his own. Here, his training didn't apply.

Feeling his eyelids begin to droop heavily, Squall blinked largely to expand his pupils. He wasn't quite ready to give up this freedom to disturbing visions just yet. Returning his gaze to the depths of the low hanging ceiling, the SOLDIER let his dreams of free will live just a little longer.

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Inspired Music: "Shooting Star" - Disney's Hercules OST