Every street of Kabul is enthralling to the eye

Through the bazaars, caravans of Egypt pass

One could not count the moons that shimmer on her

roofs

And the thousand splendid suns that hide behind her

walls"

- Taib S.

Muted.

It was the only word he could describe his current surrounding right now. Staring at the blank ceiling, as if his sight could penetrate the fading cracked-thin wooden roof, his mind was sailing. He could imagine himself floating helplessly, to be one with the sea as the sun sailed upon the gale and moon was fanned to leaping light. For the first time in a while, he let himself at ease. He still felt sore, of course, for climbing further up the mountain, but still there was something sacred about this quietness, so peaceful and distracting, away from crowd business and ambitions.

Lied nothing but a tranquil of dead stone, he was finally able to bask in his own existence. So peaceful that he almost forgot about his obsession. He remembered sailing in the raging sea, being free as the wind raking his blonde hair and the gush of salt water slapping softly on his fair face. So serene that he almost wished his existence was nothing but a barren meadow. So empty yet filled, so lacking yet sufficient, so dead yet still breathing, evenly. He knew all away the problem that tormented his mind. It was proven by him coming to this place, seeking solitude from the dazzling light and buzzing noise of Deling City.

No doubt about it, this state was his turning point.

"Say you there," he whispered softly to the cracked ceiling. He silently counted the stars that still peeked at him through the cracked roof. Moon light stoke his face, straight to his clear blue eyes. In this dead silence and shuddering darkness, the light gave him a dazzling feeling, but he had no slightest intention to close his eyes for the pain always gave him consciousness to be aware that he still stood straight in this world.

"What's the pleasure to only show up in the night?" he continued, talking to the moon that shone brightly. He could feel the warmth of its light that bathed him through this cracked hole. His jaw looked tense, but his eyes radiated an innocent stare like a lost child, like himself years ago. He remembered himself being so free, free from ambition and obsession. He also recalled vividly, a gushing breeze of salt water, a soothing cry of raging waves, and a siren song of the seagulls. He missed that freedom, but unfortunately that freedom was helpless against his miserable life. That freedom couldn't feed him; that freedom couldn't unleash him from poverty cage; and that freedom couldn't give him a justice. Then again, as he enjoyed the warmth bath, he also remembered her solace face; the innocence of Rinoa Heartilly, a naïve princess, provided a warmth shelter and a protective circle ring under the great general of Galbadia, a pretty doll who always got everything even though she needed nothing. Everything about this girl was the absolute opposite of his world. She was pure and innocent, yet he was born into nothing but a mere villain. Why he had come to his own life so tenaciously, so savagely. Hence, the envious of her life and this injustice world suddenly made it clear to him.

He closed his eyes, composing himself together in the silence as he began to reject the warmth of the moon light out from his pores.

He found it again, the ambition and obsession he shortly lost a moment ago. His purpose was simply based on this neither stupid envy nor jealousy. He knew that this world had seen him as the real villain and he had no problem of accepting that fact for he, himself, knew the truth that his miserable existence had to have a higher destiny.

As he opened his eyes, those sparkling clear orbs were not like the innocent ones he bore last minutes ago. They were hard and determined, mirroring his ambition and obsession. For the sake of justice he believed, he had to possess this power. He needed to get revenge for his miserable life he had ventured. He had to make this rotten world to never forget about his existence and he could not and would not let this spiteful world to spit at his face again. In the end, he could feel it again, flowing in his every vein.

The new Vincent Tilmarn.

No matter what day and what time it was, Deling City was never resting. The buzzing deafening noise was heard even though it was miles away from the city border and the glittering street lamps were so bright that it was hard to tell time at the night. Actually Deling was a place where people from different countries and races resided to do business, school, or simply to enjoy the market arcade, hence this raised the national income of the country. When such a city existed, it would be the main core of all movement around Galbadia and it was true that Deling controlled Galbadia for which all departments: economics, politics, and military, centrally ran here.

Tall buildings decorated the whole city, giving this commercial town a mighty impression as the city always radiated a dozen dazzling light in the cold night and it dared to challenge the beauty of Esthar even. And wherever one mentioned Deling, none missed Caraway's Mansion as this huge resident was always lingering in every conversation these days, not only because of the beauty but also the master. General Caraway who was known as the great military supervisor of Galbadia Army was now a well known politician since the last Sorceress War II. Every citizen of Deling even thought that he would seize the Presidential chair since the late President Vinzer Deling was murdered. None even questioned the power Caraway possessed as he grasped the power both politics and military in his palms. The citizen only wished that he could bring Galbadia to be a better country for the trauma of the damage caused by dictated Sorceress. But still, Galbadia would never free from Sorceress' influence for its people had the same greed to conquer the world. It was a sickness of mind, a scary sickness that already spread to the entire nation, and so when the sickness thrived, bad thing would follow.

Despite on the twinkle little lamps surrounding the rose bushes in the Caraway's garden and yellowish light adorning this huge resident that together brightened the cold night Deling City merrily, up on the second floor, precisely at the corner right wing of the mansion, was a dim room, lit only from a source of desk lamp. There sat a shadowy figure on a leather chair, thinking and staring soberly at the only small frame picture stood on his desk. A frown was adorning his old face, together with a pair of watery eyes. He could recall those moments when he used to be happy. So silly, really, that in his tight surrounding, he had experienced happiness for once. He was a career soldier and had dedicated his half life for his country. He had dictated himself to be a stoic and discipline military officer for decades and when he'd already climbed into the rank he was right now - which he believed that he deserved that - he suddenly missed those moments. He could never think that he was capable of being happy for which compared to his track record career, a merry life, full of laughter and giggles of a cute daughter, was far from what he dared to imagine. But, he had experienced that life and the man in the picture was no doubt, himself!

Rubbing the edge of craft wooden frame, he really missed those moments, but to alter his current life with that carefree and happy moment, he wasn't sure that maybe he could enjoy that life again for the first was always much more meaningful.

"Still grieving?"

Although Caraway was startled for not realizing someone came in his study room, he was really good of not showing it. He needed at least few seconds to focus his eyes to make out the dark figure leaning on the door and then after figuring the guest out, he turned on the lamp, resulting a blinding fluorescent lit up the entire room.

"Nope," answered Caraway. Noticing his guest and his visit at such hour, let alone straight to his private resident, he knew that this sudden rendezvous would not be a simple chit-chat of old friends. "I didn't see you coming," he said as he opened a drawer and put the frame inside, "please, make yourself comfortable."

The sleek man with a stoic expression similar to Caraway was none other than Headmaster Martin. The G-Garden Headmaster was an old friend of the general. Both had gone through the bitter-sweet of life since they were teenagers who were full of ambitions. And from there, they built a bond that as time flew by, it got stronger and stronger.

"Seems like you're growing smoother every time I visit you," the headmaster said as he approached his friend to take a glass of drink he offered.

"Hmph," Caraway muttered as he simply shrugged his shoulder while pouring himself a drink as well. He flicked a finger while sipping his glass to the set of leather seats beside his desk, gesturing his guest to make himself comfortable.

"So, something's up?" he asked. Martin clicked his tongue before finishing his glass.

"Well, just wondering what you're doing."

Caraway raised his brow, "You spend your precious time to just wondering what I'm doing?" He let out a dry chuckle and finish his drink right after. "Seriously, you expect me to buy that?"

"Not quite," Martin answered nonchalantly.

The general grinned, then proceeding his way to his friend's seat to pour both his glass and his. Muttering his thanks, Martin sipped his glass. "I'd never got you, huh? Just like old time, you always know whenever I lie."

"That's because you're bad at lying," Caraway said while sipping his glass.

A slight curve was formed at the headmaster's lips. "Think so. You remember the snicker incident? None believed me back then, even instructors."

"Yeah, when you almost got your butt kicked because of those stupid shoes."

A short snort slipped, filling the room with a merrier atmosphere. "That was supposed to be a prank, but it turned out somehow a big deal."

"The DCs were such rigid disciplinarians."

"…Yeah, and they got me suspended!"

"We both!" Caraway raised his finger in caution. "Don't forget that you dragged me just because you didn't want to spend your suspension in the dorm alone!"

"Yeah, yeah," Martin said, rolling his eyes. "But, we never spent the days in the dorm, actually."

Caraway grinned and sipped his drink, "We sneaked out to the city a lot."

"and to the club every night. What a puberty peak." Martin continued.

"Such influence you got me," Caraway muttered.

Both let out a chuckle for the two were enjoying and recalling the past. A small talk between friends always brought up a joyful atmosphere. The room's air changed into much better than moments ago and Caraway was aware of that. He didn't even remember his gloomy mood earlier and started to think about going to the social gathering more.

A comfortable silence was enveloping the room before Martin brought the subject up. "I saw your daughter with Vincent a couple of days ago."

A grin was swept slowly from Caraway's face. If he was taken back at the sudden subject, he really didn't show it as he was best at hiding his emotion. He brought his glass to his lips, but didn't sip the liquid.

The headmaster studied his friend carefully, noticing that his daughter was a sensitive topic to him. "You know, Vincent may already know what she is."

Caraway bought time by finishing his drink slowly and Martin took the silence to continue, "We need to make a move to stop it. It cannot wait anymore."

Still, silence was what the headmaster got from his company. It was such a frustrating situation, as if demanding a decision to put a move in a war. And like that, that decision also brought either victory or a sudden twist, which ended up losing.

"Your daughter…" Martin couldn't take the silence anymore. "…she is under B-Garden contract and you do know what that means." His voice was getting lower to emphasize each word, "If she's getting herself on Vincent's circle, there'll be a war between two gardens and being a Sorceress she is, I'm sure Esthar won't stay silent anymore."

Caraway stared quietly at his empty glass.

"Fury…," he gritted his teeth, demanding the old man's full attention.

For the first time since the topic arisen, Caraway bore his grey eyes to his friend's emerald ones. The two old men had stared at each other eyes for quite long time.

"Your daughter is the key. You cannot hide the fact what she is anymore. The world will notice her existence soon and if she cannot play her hands right, she'll get herself killed and worse, our necks on execution," he paused for a moment. "We need her, Fury, and you cannot deny that. Your daughter will bring us either to the peak of triumph or to the pit of devastation. We have to put her under our circle. I cannot trust anyone outside our men. Put her in G-Garden."

"…no," Caraway shook his head. "Too risky. Galbadia has a history relating Sorceress. If G-Garden keeps her, I'm not sure of the world's reaction. We may control her, but I doubt about how the world sees it. Besides, I'm afraid that they'll think she is corrupted."

Martin threw a tired, slightly frustrating sigh upon his friend stubbornness. Loosening his neat tie, he locked his eyes to his friend's. "Her involvement in this matter is wrong from the beginning. Whichever sides she is on, someone will use her. Everybody will see your daughter as weapon-"

"Not me!" Caraway cut angrily. "Everyone can see her an 'it', but me, she is my daughter, for Hyne's sake!"

Caraway's glare was frightening. From the yellowish light emanated by the standing lamp beside his coffee table, his grey eyes looked darker. Martin could tell that he had crossed the line. Arguing his old friend's point regarding his only beloved child would bring them nowhere and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Exhaling a long sigh, he dropped his shoulders, admitting his defeat.

"Then, at least you need to cut your ties with B-Garden. We have to keep our contact off SeeDs. Beside, what's the need of it when you've got the G-Garden behind your back?"

Caraway shook his head, making some strands of his graying hair falling to his temple. "I can't." He noticed that his friend casting him a serious look. "…I need to keep Rinoa safe. Thus, I made a contract to B-Garden."

The old headmaster kept his stoic expression. He sipped his drink while locking his gaze straight to his friend's darker ones. "Somehow, I already knew you'd say that. That's why I make some things clear for you." He put his empty glass to the beautiful crafted wooden table in front of him and then glanced at his watch, "You need to make your agenda clear. It's about time B-Garden ambushed."

Jerking his eyebrow, the general stated, "What do you mean?"

"Like I said, we need to cut off any ties related to B-Garden and SeeD."

"You…do you realize that you are raising a fight to the SeeD?"

"Well, it's true that I'm behind the ambush, but it's not us who raises the fight; it's Galbadia. If we are about to cut all the ties, I'll make sure that Vincent also cannot make a use of B-Garden's SeeD."

"Martin, you are about to kill dozens of innocent people," Caraway hissed.

"That's why I told you to cut your ties several times," the headmaster answered. "Besides, mercenaries are hardly considered as civilians, so they are not innocent people."

He began to proceed his way to the door. "and Fury, if you don't want Rinoa to get involved any further, you have to keep her pawns away from this politics matter. Otherwise, you'll just end up sacrificing her life."

With that, he excused himself.

Although minutes had passed, Caraway still sat quietly. Upon recalling the conversation earlier, he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty of the lost of B-Garden. The General drank the remaining liquid straight from the bottle. He controlled his ragging uneven breaths as he was trying to compose himself together. Pulling out a phone from his breast pocket, he dialed a number and waited for someone on the other line.

"Seifer, take Rinoa away from the city, no, take her outside Galbadia. Right now. I'll explain later. Yes, that's fine. …And meet me tomorrow morning." With a flip, he cut the line shortly.

Not quite fully regaining his composure, he mentally swore of his alcohol tolerance. With a light head, he managed to approach his desk. Pulling out the old frame earlier, he stared at the sweet smiling face of his late wife and how he wondered where his daughter inherited that innocent smile. He suddenly recalled her glittering eyes as she begged for having a pet and her stubbornness – which he could figure where it came from –of convincing him how she was capable of taking care a puppy. He was weak back then, couldn't bring himself to refuse her requests, and he wondered that every father might also fall for his own princess. For him, that innocence was something so sacred that he needed to protect it at all cost. Then, his mind imagined the corpses, lying abysmally around the lobby of B-Garden. Those corpses might be SeeDs, instructors, or even…a young cadets. He knew that most of the B-Garden cadets were orphans and he wondered how those children never got a spoiled attention from a father; how he imagined the loneliness of their life without the love of father figure; and how their smiles were swept away from their innocent faces. That innocence…

That is. Even though he warned them, the guilt would still haunt his mind, but that was all he could do right now. But again, he had no responsibility of their life, but why did he still feel anxious? He was supposed to be the next president of this sick country and to rule such a country, he was not supposed to mix his emotions, but seeing her daughter innocent smile drove him to tear down his perfect cold composure. Perhaps, that was what Julia did to him; to always provide him warmth and a place to come back whenever he lost to his surrounding and himself, to always remind him that he never was alone in this world, and that he could rely on her. But he had lost Julia and he blamed himself of being so helpless. Back then, he had no power to protect her, but it was different right now. He had the power in his hands; a power to protect that innocent. It was so not like him to be soft like this. His mind warned him that it could turn out to be his great weakness, but he didn't care for this weakness was a proof that in his life, for once, he had understood the true meaning of innocence through his daughter. And in the end, it was his conscience that saw him fail.

"…It's me. I see that tonight is a graduation ball. …Yes. Tell your headmaster to put his SeeDs on guard. …Tonight, B-Garden may be destroyed."