Disclaimer- I own nothing. Sorry.
Author's Notes- Sorry fans, I know it's late but have no worries, I will never drop this fic. It's going to be HUGE in the end but I will write until I finish it. Again, my thanks to Desi, my Final Fantasy fanatic colleague for her lovely help and chats. So here it is, chapter 6. Read and Review kids.
Chapter 6
"There is no good, there is no bad. Just perspective and opinion," –Squall Leonhart
Laguna Loire knew this was one battle he wouldn't win. Couldn't win. Ever.
Buttoning up his shirt, he mentally grumbled for what had to be the fifth time that day his everlasting regret of accepting presidency. Flinching at the sight of the dress robes draped over the chair, he resolved to pass a bill that would end cruel and unusual punishments involving hideously tacky clothing. What was it made of? Cotton? He made a mental note to embargo all shipments of this so called cotton and switch to something less, well uncomfortable in the lower body section. Why didn't Ward and Kiros warn him about the horrors he would suffer daily as the so called President. They could have at least, like any other decent friend, point out the never ending mountains of paperwork, the hours of pointless bickering in the Senate, and the constant demands from interest groups to protest, modify, veto, support Hyne knew what legislation.
Just what kind of friends were they anyway?
Humph.
Sniffing at the thought, he finished the last buttons of his white collared shirt. Painfully slow, Laguna draped on the ridicously cumbersome Presidential robe, shuddering at the mere feeling of being swallowed alive by a fifty pound potato sack. The olive green robe was slashed with white stripes on the sleeves, with the high end collar practically a vise on his throat. The robe was so bulky and heavy that had it not been for weeks of rigorous instruction, Laguna would have had to waddle instead of the "Presidential Stride" he was forced to master. He knew the clothing was mandatory for all formalities and not following protocol was a matter of life or death to Estharians, but he sincerely felt like a mutant vegetable rather than the leader of a nation.
Hyne, where the devil were his advisors? It was their job to reassure his uneasiness before massive meetings like this.
Laguna had stumbled into the deathtrap called Lunatic Pandora and by some miracle, barely managed to escape with his life. He faced wild dragons from the north, clawed his way out of the Timber wilderness and was even clever enough to trick the Sorceress Adel into a frozen prison (clever in the sense that yes, Laguna Loire, the king of klutzes did in fact pulled off a brilliantly, executed plan) yet while Laguna stared back at the wide oak mirror in his Presidential Suite; he seriously believed the next Senate meeting would be the end of him. Desperate for escape, he scanned the room for an exit.
Aha! The window!
The window was nearby, overlooking the grand metropolis where intersections and buildings covered up every inch of the city. The fall alone would end the constant migraine that threatened to chew out his brain. Maybe he could leap out the window and the Senate would have no choice but to collar someone else for their slave work. Kiros would make a most excellent candidate, and Ward wouldn't even have to speak at press conferences, just glare and throw his harpoon at anyone. The sun barely peeking out of the mountains that surrounded Esthar shone like a guiding light of salvation for him, beckoning the stress wrought middle-aged man to leap out of the political chains and free his soul.
It was do or die.
At this point, he would gladly take both.
After adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves and adorning the idiotic hat, a cross between a cabby cap and a war helmet, Laguna turned toward the window. He took the first step and his blissful thoughts of never having to sign a bill again were shattered as the door flung open. His steps abruptly stopped, mentally smacking himself in the face because he knew it was impossible to escape his 'advisors". He needn't turn around to face the intruders; Laguna habitually knew two pairs of eyes were boring into the back of his head. One belonged to a lean, black haired man, which Laguna knew was observing him with one raised eyebrow and likely thinking of possible cures to end his friend's stupidity. The other was a giant of a man, with massive arms and shoulders to match who stood silently with arms folded but his scared face wore a reproaching gaze.
His advisors had caught him. Or friends he should say.
"Really Mr. President," Kiros began, propping one elbow against the door frame. "What have we here?"
Even in his sleek ceremonial robes of green and white, the dark skinned man retained the image of a panther, cool, composed but deadly. Kiros' past remained secret to even Laguna, but he suspected his old friend was native to the southern provinces. Most likely, a survivor of a nation wiped out during the Sorceress Wars. Whatever the truth was, Laguna never prodded his friend about the past, and the same respect was reciprocated. Although Kiros did not wear his custom hand blades for quite sometime now, he was more than capable of killing a man with his own hands. Which had occurred more than once. Despite Laguna's soaring approval rating as Esthar's president, there had been assassin attempts on his life. Little did the would-be killers know that the two presidential councilors were in fact, bodyguards, although they never lived to share that fact.
"Trying to escape your executive duties without even consulting us," Kiros dryly commented. "I'm hurt."
His companion simply rolled his eyes and continued to fix Laguna with that unnerving stare of his.
Laguna spun around, ready to give them a piece of his own counseling except for the cumbersome hat blinded his eyes and his foot tripped on the dangling robe. He unceremoniously fell flat on his behind.
While Laguna furiously battled his way out of layer after layer of green fabric, he managed to stand on his own two feet after only tripping an additional three times. He again made a mental note to banish all green clothing from the capital. Better outlaw the color as well.
"W-what are you two doing here!" Laguna sputtered indignantly. After failing to properly adjust his hat, he promptly ripped the forsaken thing off and chucked it at Kiros, who deftly caught it before it smacked him square in the face.
"Don't you have some bribes to be accepting or something?" the longhaired man snapped, although only half heartedly.
Ward just glowered.
"Fine fine! I'm sorry. Bad joke." Although Ward lost the ability to speak (indirectly Laguna's fault because of their ill adventure into Lunatic Pandora), it still remained fairly easy to read his facial expressions. There was the blank stare, which interpreted as a "Stop talking. It makes you look smarter", and the glare meaning "Screw with me and you're dead" and then there was the scowl, also known as "Laguna, you're an idiot". Somehow his condition only made communication easier. If not more frightening. Ward had long ago stored away his massive harpoon weapon but the absence of the gigantic iron prong did not diminish the fact Ward could crush a man's skull by looks alone.
If Kiros was deadly speed, Ward was just raw strength. There would be no way he could escape now.
"We were sent to escort you to the Senate building," Kiros continued in that in-a-matter-of-fact tone. "But shall we tell them you are attempting suicide and a new President should be elected?"
Ward's silent stance signaled his agreement.
Laguna looked at Kiros, then Ward, then back to Kiros, and finally to Ward before he grumbled under his breath about hiring new bodyguards but before he could make a mad dash between the two, his leg unfaithfully cramped up after the first step. Laguna crumpled into a pile of robes, groaning helplessly as he clutched his stiff leg. Kiros and Ward exchanged looks and both decided that no matter how amusing it was to see their friend flailing around on the ground, he needed their help. Both flanking his side, they hauled Laguna to his feet with Ward plopping the ridiculous hat onto Laguna's disheveled hair.
"You know," Kiros began. "No matter how much you hate the paperwork, I doubt it's enough to drive you over the edge."
Laguna opened his mouth to protest but decided against it when realizing Kiros was always right about these things. He hated when his friend was right. All the time.
Ward gestured towards the window with a nod of his head and a slight scowl and Laguna knew exactly what he meant.
"Ward says you're an idiot Laguna," Kiros interpreted with a slight amused expression.
"Yeah yeah! I got that part already, sheesh!" Laguna fought off his captors and faced his attackers from the doorway.
"And Ward says that you would never have broken through that glass," Kiros continued smoothly. Hyne, that man could talk his way through a hundred lobbyists and never feel even an inch of irritation. Why wasn't he President?
Laguna raised an eyebrow. Oh so they thought he was weak didn't they? Old age and deskwork were getting to him wasn't it? He'd show them!
Laguna purposely strode to the window, ignoring the skeptical looks Kiros and Ward gave him, raised one fist and hammered the glass.
He heard a rather large crack and knew it wasn't the window.
Ouch.
Somewhere between all his pathetic whimpering, Ward cast a minor healing spell, the cool blue light mended the broken bones and faded the bruising skin back to a healthy pale color. Ward had never developed beyond the simplest of spells but he was quite sufficient when it came to minor injuries. Especially those injuries self inflicted by one of his best friends. He wrapped up his friend's hand in bandages to prevent any further swelling, all the while scowling at Laguna's lack of brain cells.
"We didn't insinuate that you were weak or anything Laguna," said Kiros with a slight grin. "We were just about to tell you that this glass was just installed as a safety precaution. It's a recent product from Galbadia. I heard it's made of the most powerful elements but I have no idea what they are," rapping a fist against the window, he added. "It's practically unbreakable."
Laguna felt something snap within him.
"Why didn't you tell me that BEFORE I destroyed my hand?"
Ward finished up his medical job and raised an eyebrow at his outburst.
"Okay! You were about to tell me, I just didn't listen," He mumbled out the last part. "Why are you guys always right about these things?"
"It's not that we're always right," Kiros added lightly. "You're just usually wrong."
Humph. Some friends he had.
Finally after fixing his robes so he looked at least presentable, the President and his advisors left for the Senate room. Down the hallways of committee rooms and government offices, they passed dozens of representatives, secretaries, reporters, bureaucrats, all of them scurrying around like ants at their assigned tasked. Several nodded in his direction, a few stopped to exchange a brief word of concern for his injury but for the most part, no one impeded his way. They all knew this was perhaps one of most important Senate congregations since the Second Luna Cry and most were busy enough with their own affairs. The trio reached the massive room called the Senate Dome, which plainly enough, was a massive circular stadium, with senators from every corner of Esthar filling the room. Men and women, dressed in their formal robes to match their region stood proud along their political party. As Laguna stepped in, every senator immediately came to their feet, clapping for his arrival, as custom demanded. Acknowledging their praise, Laguna chose to ignore the few mutters about his wounded hand and quickly situated himself at the center of the Senate floor, hands clutching the podium as he waited for the cheering to die down. Ward and Kiros remained a step behind, and Laguna inwardly admitted he was glad of their reassuring presence. He would need their advice.
The meeting began with the formal introduction and the first senator presented his case. It was something about encouraging the import of Balamb woodwork and Dollet ceramics in exchange for Estarian products. After some brief questions and a minor debate about tariff prices, the two hundred member Senate voted by a secret ballot on screen at each of their terminals. The majority favored the legislation and by custom, Laguna signed it. Next case.
What seemed like hours dragged by. Each proposal seeming boring as the next one. Although he had to give credit to the efficiency of the procedures, eventually one bill was shot down, something about the testing of wild monsters for research and the supporters launched into a counter debate, demanding the reconsideration. Another debate left Laguna's head ringing. Another round of voting still cut down the proposal and Laguna was forced to intervene by declaring cloture on any further question.
Just when he felt he couldn't handle anymore, Senator LoresTrask took the room by storm. An old man with a weathered face and a permanent grim expression was one of the oldest members of the Senate, probably even once part of Sorceress Adel's puppet "Assembly of the People". The room became dead silence, and Laguna knew he wasn't the only one who was anxious to hear him speak. LoresTrask may have been considered old fashioned and even outdated by other senators, but there was no doubt he still commanded great respect.
"Senator LoresTrask, from the Northern Province of Malta," announced the Senate Speaker in the same monotone.
The aging politician stood from his terminal, looking neither confident nor fearful. His face was unreadable. Laguna simply felt compassion for a man who had suffered greatly in his life. He survived the reign of terror under Adel and witnessed the death of his wife and daughter. LoresTrask had played a key role after the imprisoning of Adel. He immediately took action, proclaiming the dummy legislature null and demanded free elections for the Estharian Senate. Within weeks, he managed to root out pro-Adel supporters and pushed for massive social reform. During the Lunatic Pandora crisis, he alone remained calm as he worked quickly to evacuate the city and deploy the military. However, now after a relative peace, he remained closed off and rarely came to committee conferences or general meetings. The man was truly an inspiration but if he chose to speak now, Laguna would of course give him his full attention.
What he lacked in youth, LoresTrask compensated with years of harsh experience. His voice was clear as thunder and his eyes coolly composed as he addressed the dome.
"My fellow delegates," he began calmly. "After months of seclusion, I come before you with news of the most utmost importance. I apologize for not informing the Senate at an early date, but
"It has come to my attention that although Esthar has recovered and prospered since the latest events, Esthar cannot afford to let down her guard," Laguna felt himself shift closer toward the speaker. "A threat has arisen in our world, old as time itself. A threat that is responsible for the murder of millions and the destruction of entire nations."
Not one person dare took a breath. Even Kiros and Ward were entranced.
"That threat can only be the sorceress."
The silence could not hold. Scores of voices burst into heated denials, accusations, approvals and outrage. The speaker's demand for silence went ignored and the floor was quickly dominated by another Senator named Berea. A stout looking woman with white curls and a severe look, she was the oldest woman senator here and commanded just as much respect as LoresTrask did.
"Be silent all of you! Senator Lores Trask has presented his case and we must show him the proper respect!" she roared and the chatter died down instantly.gradually died down. A no-nonsense, blunt woman, Laguna was glad she chose to serve rather than retire. And in a softer tone, "Please senator, continue."
The man nodded in thanks and peered over his colleagues once again.
"It is not my intent to spread discord or commotion. I believe we must take action to prevent any further danger to our nation and to the world," his sage-like eyes glanced at Laguna, empty of joy or happiness; they were the eyes of a hollow man.
"For years Esthar was dominated by a dictator, a ruthless murderess, responsible for the death of entire generations. And those who were fortunate to have survived her wrath were forced to live in constant fear. Adel turned our peaceful country into a war machine, creating weapons to conquer neighboring lands."
Laguna mentally read off the names in his head. Timber, Galbadia, Dollet, Balamb, Alexandria, Trabia, and countless others all fell to Adel's lust for power. The entire population of the world was reduced by nearly a quarter, with most of the southern and northern countries overrun by monsters and plagued by unforgiving terrain, the survivors fled to the central nations. Empty cities and ruins littered the deserted land, piles of bleached bones and millions of unmarked graves were constant reminders of the price war demanded. Countless orphans were without homes, rich nations plummeted into poverty and by the time the war ended, only tiny WinhillWinhil remained untouched.
"We must learn from the mistakes of our forbearers. They allowed themselves to become slaves to Adel because they would not resist her. Now it is up to us to rectify their failure."
No senator dared to interrupt now. The man had a natural gift of oratory dominance. He simply had to look at you, and there was nothing that would not have been to please him. Hyne, the man was a walking legend.
"Esthar must take on the charge of locating these women of unnatural power and prevent them from ever threatening the peace so many have spilt blood for. The descendants of Hyne are numerous, but their lineage is narrow. If we can stop these sorceresses before their powers manifest, Esthar will be responsible for saving the lives of countless innocents."
There were several muttered agreements among the legislators, a few of the older, experienced senators nodding fiercely, many listened patiently or defiantly shook heads. Laguna knew from years as President that passing bills was one thing, deciding how to implement them into actual results took a great deal of time. There would be countless committees, debates, appointed specialists, and hired informants and weeks before any action occurred. The man might be able to propose a law, but the process was going to be long and cumbersome.
"I propose a plan of action to maintain vigilance over these sorceresses and to safeguard world peace." The man never altered his tone, the speech ended as simple as it began. There wasn't even a single alteration in the old man's expression. Senator LoresTrask' wrinkled cheeks and poignant eyes were unruffled by the uproar that surrounded him. Standing erect in perfect composure, he seemed to have dominated the massive chamber merely with his presence. Not one person remained seated in the usually formal Senate. The Speaker had long given up trying to restore order and joined in one of the dozens of debates. In the midst of the all the disputes and shouts, Laguna caught the attention of the man who was the cause of this verbal battle. Senator LoresTrask plainly acknowledged his questioning glance with a slight nod. Laguna never truly enjoyed presidency, and now, he knew the real reason why.
"Quistis, behind you!"
She dodged behind a pillar, barely avoiding the bullets that struck the wall a second ago she was just standing by. Xu emptied a clip from her handgun, r handgun, reloaded and fired off several shots in the general direction of their targets. She offered a wry grin to Quistis behind an equally crumbling stone pillar before firing off another round. Hyne, how could the girl grin now? Their first real life mission and one mistake would end their dreams of mercenary work. Bandits had taken refuge in an abandoned city up north, stifling trade between Trabia and the rest of the continent. Their final SeeD exam: Provide backup for the SeeD agents. An easy enough assignment. The four squads of aspiring cadets were all given rather basic jobs while the experienced veterans would handle the dirty work. However, like any real mission in the field, calculated plans never worked according to plan. There was more resistance than expected and the fighting on the enemies' terrain didn't help either. This was going to get ugly.
Counting to five, the blond teenager mumbled a protective enchantment, creating a pale blue barrier that glimmered weakly in the dim light. After receiving Xu's quick nod, Quistis jumped into open sight. Bullets immediately pelted the shield in a rain of steel. She easily deflected off several of the stray bullets, concentrating on keeping the barrier up as long as possible. Xu fixed her hands together and her gloves hands became enveloped in a shimmering orb. Extending her palms in unison, a beam of white struck the stone ceiling, exploding into a shower of blinding light. The group men howled and covered their eyes in a vain attempt.
Now was their chance. Quistis immediately let the shield dissipate and counterattacked. Gripping the hilt of the chain whip from her belt, she unleashed the flailing weapon on the nearest target, a burly man wearing bits of crudely formed armor with a heavy assault rifle slung on his shoulders. She flicked her wrist and the sound of metal crushing ribs resonated in the air. He fell with a sickly thud. Twirling the chain above her head, a charging man with a sword was roughly knocked aside with a strike to the side of the face, spittle spewed out as the impact shattered his helmet. The next man wasn't caught quite as off guard. Quistis evaded a series of punches from the guerilla fighter, deftly side stepping every attack.
The man was certainly skilled, and one direct hit would probably be enough to send her in a coma but he was too confident in his skill and attacked far too often. Easily avoiding a lunging punch, she swiftly kicked him in the stomach, following up with a strike to the back of his skull, knocking him out cold. She raised her whip to prepare for the next attack. Xu had pulled out twin scimitars, easily fending off two soldiers. The bodies of four men lay at her feet, drenched in blood. As soon as she saw an opening, Quistis snapped her whip around the ankle of the nearest man and with a sudden jerking motion, caused him to trip and crash to the ground. His head made a sickening noise as it met the stone floor with a loud crash. With one less enemy, Xu parried the next attack and split the man's stomach wide open, cleanly slicing armor and flesh.
A grisly sight. Two fifteen year-old girls, covered in blood. It seemed to be a scene out of those cheap, action/horror films that were so popular these days. The bodies of dead men lay at their feet, as if this was a demonic ritual and their lives the sacrifice. The willowy blond cadet felt suddenly dizzy, as if she lacked the strength to stand on her own. The coppery smell of blood remained fresh in the arid room, the growing crimson puddles on the dusty floor seeping through cracks and staining the earth. The distant but certain sounds of gunfire and explosions in the background wordlessly spoke of the further violence in the city.
She wondered if her friend felt the same way, the same sickening bile accumulating in her stomach, threatening to empty any second. But the dark haired girl grimly wiped the bloodied blades on the clothing of the nearest body, frowning at the scene as if she was a housecleaner walking into a cluttered room. She made eye contact with her best friend, a bare glimpse in her direction and Quistis could read the expression without ever asking.
Neither of them wanted to kill. There was no enjoyment in taking life in such a brutal manner. But they were prepared to do so. The mission was clear. Deal with the rebels. These bandits were no saints themselves. Most had massive bounties on their heads for their capture: dead or alive. No doubt they had robbed innumerable sums of money, and most likely murdered and raped innocents who simply were at the wrong place at the wrong time. They were outlaws and the injustices they committed were now claimed in blood. Justice was served. But she neither felt like a righteous crusader or an avenging warrior that seemed so inspiring in myths and stories. She was a 15 year-old girl, killing men for a final exam.
"I know what you're thinking," Xu commented nonchalantly, but Quistis could detect the slightest trace of understanding. Sometimes she thought the two of them shared the same mind. "I'm thinking the same too. That maybe these rebels were evil and deserved to die." Sheathing her scimitars behind her back, the dark haired girl glanced uneasily at the carnage. "We simply sped up the process."
Quistis said nothing. There didn't seem to be anything she could say.
"I didn't join SeeD to become a killer," Xu affirmed, her tone stern and cold.
Neither did Quistis yet she remained silent.
"I joined because I believed in what SeeD is meant to be. What SeeD stands for."
Quistis inwardly wondered what that meant. SeeD was an elite mercenary organization. A military academy for orphaned children. A factory that honed young people into weapons. But more than that, it was a home. The only home she truly cared for. Quistis had not found comfort or love in her adopted parents; they were just a wealthy business couple who decided a child would enhance their image. They were never cruel and they did provide everything except for parental affection. Garden was all she had left now.
"SeeD never accepts a mission that endangers the lives of any innocents. We're just cleaning up someone else's mess."
"You're right," Quistis responded after a pause, although the roof of her mouth felt dry and the words sounded unconvincing to her own ears.
"And as SeeD," Xu began, bending down to close the eyelids of the nearest body. "We must always be prepared to make any sacrifice to achieve our mission. No matter what the cost," she recited the last part clearly, but reluctantly.
"No matter what the cost," Quistis repeated, snapping her whip back to her belt, sparing one last look at the motionless body staring into nothingness.
No matter what the cost.