A few years earlier, not long after Ellone's passing, the Kinneas family were at their Trabia ranch, winding down after a typical weekday dinner.

The twins Abby and Fan were on the second floor of their simple log home, twelve year olds flaunting a newly found sense of authority as they commanded their younger siblings to finish their chores. Joy, a smart little five year old with long brown hair and soft amber freckles, was eagerly putting away her toys and selecting a bedtime book. Seven year old Ames wore his own brown hair in an unkempt mop, wavy clumps growing over his ears and long heavy bangs obscuring his eyes as he concentrated on his sketchpad. He was irritably waving off his older sisters, insisting he'll clean up the pile of clothes as soon as he finished tracing this last picture of a bite bug. Beau was in a different room altogether, his door closed, a single lamp over his plain wooden desk as he proofread his history dissertation. He was nearly identical to Irvine, almost as tall with his hair in the same brown ponytail, the only difference being the pair of prescription glasses he needed to wear.

Selphie and Irvine were downstairs in the living room, quietly enjoying their own evening habits. Irvine was slouched in a chair with his feet up on a worn leather ottoman, sipping a beer and reading the evening paper, while Selphie was curled up on a larger couch, unconsciously sticking her tongue out as she attempted an advanced knitting project.

An antique radio over the wood fireplace was tuned to a student-run station from Trabia Garden, playing a selection of classic jazz. But suddenly, the music was interrupted by three harsh, cacophonous tones. Irvine and Selphie quickly looked up from their hobbies, their eyes and ears glued to the radio. "This is the Trabian Emergency Broadcast System: The Coast Guard has issued a priority alert, warning of imminent invasion by Ultimecian forces into southern Trabia. The Executive Council, in conjunction with the Trabian National Guard, have ordered a mandatory evacuation of all affected areas, including Port-au-Glace and the greater Trabia Garden region. Residents are required to evacuate to the nearest—"

But they didn't listen to more. Irvine sprung out of his chair and walked briskly to the kitchen as Selphie threw aside her knitting and hopped to her feet. "KIDS!" she hollered. "Go-time!"

Selphie heard pounding and trampling noises on the floor above as the kids repeated their practiced evacuation drill, grabbing their pre-packed bags before stampeding down the stairs. Beau, Abby, and Ames all made it down with their packs strapped to their backs, lined up in a row by the front door. Fan was a little slower as she gently tugged Joy by the hand, who was trudging sleepily down the stairs in pink pajamas and rubbing her eyes. "Ma," she mumbled drowsily, "can we go tomorrow?"

Selphie looked sorrowfully at her youngest child. "I'm sorry, sweetie, it's gotta be now." She went opposite the line of her kids, looking from Beau, who stood over a head taller than her, all the way down to Ames and Joy, barely reaching her hips. Irvine came back and handed her one of two large hiking packs, full of the food and survival gear they had prepared weeks prior. But Irvine also had his silver Exeter shotgun holstered at his hip, hidden beneath his long tan trench coat. Attached to Selphie's pack were her Strange Vision nunchucks, capped with jade and connected by a chain of adamant. They were taking no chances.

"Ok! Everyone here? Everyone packed?" Selphie asked as she slung on her gear. "It might be a while before we're home again."

Ames blanched as he finally realized how long "a while" might be, and suddenly other things he hadn't packed became much more important to him. "Mom! I forgot my art stuff! Can I take it, please?" he begged.

Selphie shook her head. "I'm sorry, Ames, it's too bulky…" But Irvine interrupted, "It's ok kiddo, I'll carry it. Just be quick." As Ames scurried up the stairs, Irvine explained himself to Selphie. "Things are gonna be hairy for a while, Seph," he said in a low voice. "He's gonna need something to remind him what normal is."

In a few seconds, Ames returned carrying a wooden box in both his arms, rattling with paints and pencils. Irvine took the box and lashed it to the side of his pack. Then with one last, loving look around, the Kinneas clan said goodbye to their childhood home and filed out to the front yard. Irvine, the last one out, reached back inside to grab his wide-brimmed hat from a hook before shutting the door.

The night was clammy. A mist had come down from the Trabian mountains in the west, making everything wet around them and covering their SUV with dewdrops. Looking south across the dark plain, they could see blurry clouds of light above the nearest population centers: orange in the distance over Port-au-Glace, fluorescent white over nearby Trabia Garden.

The family loaded their car silently, trying hard not to notice the sudden flashes over Port-au-Glace, nor listen to the muffled booms traveling from there across the plain. Irvine started the car, turned on the headlights, and drove down the driveway to the main road. The rural route usually didn't see much traffic, but tonight there were cars bumper to bumper, some hoping to circle around Trabia Garden and get to the mountain shelters, others trying to make it inland even further north. But the Kinneas family had a different plan; they had been in contact with Balamb Garden, and they knew their old friends wouldn't be far away…

Irvine kicked the SUV's gear into four wheel drive and drove past the traffic, north along the shoulder off-road. They didn't go very far before veering to cut across a long prairie. Irvine knew this route would get them swiftly across to a forested hill, on the other side of which Balamb Garden would be waiting to pick them up.

As they drove across the prairie, jostling from the occasional bumps and ditches they were running into, Selphie scanned the horizon for trouble. At first it seemed like there would be no issues, a stealthy drive on a quiet night. But looking back toward Port-au-Glace, she suddenly gripped Irvine's leg. "Kill the headlights, hun," she said calmly but firmly, still staring back toward the besieged village. Silhouetted against the blurry clouds, she could make out dark flying shapes, and with the lights out and her vision clearer, she could also see beasts on the ground, striking across the plain toward Trabia Garden. She hoped that without headlights, maybe the monsters wouldn't notice their passage. But unfortunately, it looked to her like some of the shadows were peeling away, heading in their direction.

"We're almost to the forest… we'll have to ditch the car," Irvine said.

The quiet voice of Joy spoke out. "Won't the monsters get us?" she asked timidly.

"Don't you worry, sweetie," Selphie said confidently. "We've got a few tricks up our sleeve."

Soon they reached a dry creek bed crossing their road, dividing the prairie from the dark forest they needed to enter. As they got out of the car they heard dimly the howls of the approaching monster pack, remote but still far too close for comfort. As the rest of the family crossed the rocky creek, Irvine planted a suspicious gray box underneath the frame of the car. Ames turned around. "Dad, you need help?" But Irvine was already done and hurrying back towards them, his pack jostling as he ran across the creek bed. "Nope! Into the forest, let's go!"

The family dove in among prickly conifers, blindly struggling through twigs and branches as they scrambled uphill through the trees. A few minutes in they stopped to listen to the howling, much louder behind them; the pack had reached the car. But a split second later, a bright orange bloom of fire erupted above the treeline, the sudden cries of wounded beasts mixing with a great boom and the clamor of twisted metal.

Irvine and Selphie breathed together in relief, but they heard no sound from their kids. Selphie turned to look at them and saw the fire flickering in their eyes, open mouths on their crestfallen faces. Even with all their drilling and practice, she couldn't fully prepare them for this kind of change in their lives. They had grown up as a normal, peaceful family, living normal, peaceful lives. She had trained none of them for combat, and Irvine had only taught Beau the basics to help on the ranch. But this was the way Selphie had stubbornly, desperately wanted it: no fighting, no war. She had no regrets about that, other than from now on it seemed combat training was going to be unavoidable.

They marched on deeper into the forest. Selphie led the way, sweeping aside branches with her folded nunchucks in one hand, a dim flashlight in the other. Abby, Fan, and Ames trudged along behind her, followed by Beau with shotgun in hand. Irvine was in the rear, carrying a sleeping Joy with her head on his broad shoulder, her soft snores one of the only sounds that the family made in the muted dark.

They hiked the gently sloping land, an endless climb through thick wet trees and damp, earthy needles, until finally they breached the trees into a flat clearing. But on the other side Abby saw another shadowy hill of trees, heading even further upward. "Mom," she moaned, "are we there yet?"

Selphie smiled at her daughter. "We're really close, look!" She pointed to the sky just above the dark hill. There the clouds were lit fluorescent blue, pulsating gently. "That's the Garden, just beyond that ridge. We're almost there!" she said proudly.

She saw hopeful smiles form on her family's faces, and they briskly marched through the clearing. But just as they reached the base of the next hill, they all heard a sound they were dreading. In the woods they had just come from, a wave of growls and barks broke out, distant, but coming closer through the forest.

Irvine and Selphie gave each other a long, forlorn look. "Onto Plan B…" Irvine muttered with sad resignation. Selphie swallowed hard and blinked back tears, but nodded firmly.

Beau looked back and forth between his parents, suddenly confused. "What do you mean, 'Plan B'?" he asked with a bit of apprehension. But Irvine approached him and handed him Joy, still asleep in his arms. "Y'all go on ahead as quick as you can, and I'll hold 'em off." He then knelt down and unstrapped the art box from his pack, giving it to Ames. "You better take this from here, kiddo."

Ames received the box in stunned silence, not fully comprehending what was happening. Abby and Fan, however, knew enough. "Pa, no! You can't go!" they cried out, rushing in to hug him. Irvine smiled sadly as he embraced them tightly and kissed their foreheads. "Now, now, I've got to do this. Y'all listen to your mom and get yourselves safe to the Garden."

Beau felt the pain of the situation more acutely. The first ten years of his life were flashing before him, when it was just him, his ma, and his pa – just the three of them, alone, together. As he jostled Joy into a better position, he whispered bitterly, "Why not me, Dad? Why can't I go?"

Irvine shook his head. "Your mom and I agreed, Beau, this is how it's gonna be," he said resolutely. But looking at the pain on Beau's face, Irvine thought he couldn't just leave him like this. He took off his hat and plopped it on Beau. "Keep this warm for me, alright?" Beau didn't answer; he just bowed his head, his face disappearing under the wide brim of Irvine's hat. Whatever he was thinking, he didn't share.

Irvine took two steps back from his family, pulling out his shotgun and pumping it. "Send help once you reach the Garden, if you have a mind." He looked lastly to Selphie, his warm brown eyes gazing into her dazzling green. "Catch ya later… alligators," he said to all as he shouldered his gun and turned, striding slowly back into the field. Beau was still as a stone. The twins were crying quietly, and Ames was shaking his head, dumbfounded. Joy was the only one not shaken, still sound asleep on Beau's shoulder.

Selphie stared after Irvine, unconsciously clenching her fists. But she knew there was no more argument, and no more time. "Come on, kids, you heard your pa," she said as she goaded them gently into the woods.

About ten minutes later, as they neared the crest of the last hill, they suddenly heard gunshots behind them. Spinning around, they could see over the nearest treeline, down to the clearing where they had left Irvine. There they could see flashes of Irvine's shotgun, and they could hear the enraged cries of the monsters he had ambushed. But rather than dying down, the cries only got louder and angrier as more monsters converged on the spot. Irvine shot rapidly, the bursts from his gun shooting in all directions. There was a brief pause, and then the shots became blue streaks, cutting like lasers through the trees and leaving scorch marks of blue fire. But then the family heard a terrible human cry, a desperate roar that chilled all of them to the bone. The shots paused once more, and then all of a sudden there was a tremendous explosion, a great sphere of hot, searingly bright blue. It sent shockwaves that shook the Kinneas family, making Abby, Fan, and Ames all stumble. After that, the flames below died down, all falling back into a deadly quiet, the trees smoking and smoldering.

Selphie looked slowly to her eldest son, afraid even to ask what had happened. "...Beau?"

Beau was stupefied, shaking his head in dismay. "He… overloaded his pulse ammo," he answered quietly, but with such fatal certainty that Selphie didn't feel the need to ask any more. She looked once more at the distant battlefield, the burning trees the only trace remaining of her husband.

And that was how the Kinneas clan was separated from their father. Despondent and weary, they climbed over the top of the hill, where they at last saw Balamb Garden in the valley before them. It was brilliant blue, its facade bright with powerful floodlamps, cushioned by its glowing golden halo. It lit up the whole valley, causing the family to wince and cover their eyes after their long trip in the dark; even Joy stirred, turning her head away from the light and burying it into Beau's shoulder. Selphie heard a shout from below, a distant party of SeeDs pointing and waving at them. Their journey was almost over, her family safe, thanks to Irvine's sacrifice.

But suddenly Selphie heard cracking noises in the trees, only a few feet away. She spun desperately around, her nunchucks flying open into both her hands. A shadowy, four-legged monster was rushing toward her, so fast that it seemed to be a blur; she raised her weapon, but then she saw three more blurs out of the corner of her eye, charging swiftly toward a defenseless Beau and Joy. "No, NO!" she screamed as she turned toward them and reached out, only to feel something like teeth from the first monster sink into her outstretched wrist…

Selphie shot awake, sitting up in an unfamiliar bed, panting heavily. She looked in the dark room around her, confused and disoriented, trying to find something to remind her where she was. Eventually her surroundings became more familiar, a blue light from the windows to her left, brightening and then softening on the wall opposite her, where she could see family photos hanging in their rectangular wooden frames: she was in her room in Balamb Garden, in the apartment she and her children had lived in the past five years.

She caught her breath and felt the sheets around her, the parts nearest to her cold and damp. She put her hands to her chest and found the nightgown she was wearing was stuck to her skin, sweated through.

Selphie groaned quietly and slapped her palm to her forehead. Five years! And still these stupid flashbacks kept coming to haunt her. She was so sure she had put her trauma behind her, but it felt like recently, the dreams had only become more frequent.

She flopped back onto the bed, staring at the plain white ceiling, reflecting on her most recent dream. Sadly, most of it had really happened; they had drawn too many monsters, Irvine went to head them off, and never came back. But what were those other beasts, near the end of her dream? They hadn't been there in reality; in real life, once over the hill in view of the Garden, Selphie and her kids had been home free. She closed her eyes and tried to picture those monsters again, but they didn't become any clearer – only shapeless blobs of fear, figments of her dark imagination. What could they mean? Why were they invading her already terrible dream, threatening her children in a place where they had never actually been threatened?

She heard a soft noise near her bedroom door. Leaning up quickly, she saw Ames there, now twelve years old, standing in his pajamas and staring at her quietly from under his long messy bangs. "Mom," he asked gently, "are you ok?"

Selphie swallowed, fearful of how much Ames had heard or saw of her nightmare. But she composed herself and sat up, putting her feet over the side of the bed. "I'm fine, dear. I'm sorry I woke you."

Ames gave a shy little smirk and a shrug, and saddled up next to Selphie on her bed. "It's okay, Mom," he said, sheepishly patting her thigh. "I know you're sad."

Selphie smiled graciously, taking Ames' small hand and holding it. "It happens. But it ain't so bad when I've got you."

Ames' smile faded and he looked down, his whole face retreating under his bangs. "It's my fault, you know," he mumbled. "That Pa's gone."

Selphie looked alertly at him, but she kept her cool, letting years of teaching experience kick in. "No no no," she said consolingly, wrapping Ames in her arms. "None of this, any of this, is your fault."

"But I asked to get my art stuff. It slowed us down. Maybe if I hadn't, we might… we might…" Ames began to choke, trying desperately to suppress tears.

"Ames," Selphie interrupted with a gentle sternness. "Listen to me. You are a bright, kind, and strong little man, and I know that your Pa's crazy proud of you, and he's so happy that I've got a great kid like you takin' care of me." Selphie squeezed him tight and planted a rough kiss on his head. "You are super, you understand? And I love you very much."

Ames blushed in the dark, but a thin smile came back over him. "I love you too, Mom," he said proudly. Then, rising from the bed, he turned to her. "Would you like some water?"

Selphie smiled. "Thank you Ames, water will be lovely." After Ames brought her a glass and went back to his room, Selphie turned in her bed, unconsciously reaching her arm across to where Irvine used to sleep.

The next morning dawned bright and crisp, a warm sun shining down on the Garden in the Vienne mountain valley. The Garden's halo was spinning slowly, idling gently near the north entrance of the mountain shelter. The entrance here was nearly identical to the southern one the SeeDs had defended just days before, but nestled deep in the shade of the mountain's morning shadow. A great steel ramp was extended over the Garden's halo and down to the entrance, dozens of Esthar workers loading supplies into the Garden on long hovering palettes.

In a large conference room near the top of the Garden, Xu was standing at a window, overlooking the loading operation over a hundred meters below. Behind her at a long table sat her officers. Atrop, seated nearby and thumbing through his report on a tabletop touchscreen, was her deputy headmaster. He was a little inexperienced, but the most capable she had for the position. Selphie was near the far end of the table, serving as her Dean of Students. She had no uniform, preferring to keep civilian status, and had come dressed in light jeans and a green cuffed jacket. Xu would have loved her to take a combat role, but she had flatly refused as a single parent. Still, she was more than qualified to lead education at the Garden, having been a junior classmen teacher for over twenty years in Trabia. Sitting across from Selphie was Dr. Kadowaki, her long-serving Medical Director. She wore a white lab coat over lavender scrubs, and kept her white hair tied back in a simple ponytail. She was very old at this point, well into her eighties, but a fountain of wisdom in many areas besides healthcare. She had twinkling black eyes and a serene smile, stretching cheek to cheek on her round face.

Other officer positions were vacant; there just wasn't enough leadership talent to spare for administration, and it was difficult for someone to meet all of Xu's stringent requirements. To form a quorum, Xu would instead invite guests to these meetings, giving them a sort of trial run to see if they'd fit a more permanent leadership role. Today she had Beau, Selphie's son and Fable's husband, a quiet sort who was training to be a Garden pilot. He was seated across from Atrop, physically like Irvine except for his thin-framed spectacles, but different in his muted, bashful disposition.

"Loading is seventy percent complete," Atrop stated, reading off his report. He fingered the touchscreen through details of the report readout, speaking to the most relevant pieces. "We have food, water, and magic stocks already at capacity; the rest will have to be stored on the emergency wings: the cafeteria, infirmary, library, and parking garage."

"That's fine," answered Xu, turning away from the window and toward the table. "The emergency wings need a stock of those supplies anyway."

"Ma'am," asked Beau meekly, "may I ask why we are taking on so much surplus? Surely we'll be able to resupply as we travel between shelters…"

"Well, that's just it," Xu said as she took her seat at the head of the table. "We won't be stopping at shelters for a while."

Everyone looked up at her. But Xu did not elaborate – she just studied the faces of each of her staff, letting the news sink in. Selphie and Kadowaki were reserved, settling back into their seats with stoic faces. But Beau and Atrop looked at each other with bemused expressions. "...Ma'am," continued Beau, "Where will be going?"

Xu smiled inwardly. It was time she divulged the whole plan. "The shelters are secured and fully provisioned. Even if their hydroponic farming systems fail, they have enough rations to last their populations three years. So now it's time to think about our needs. We know the monsters seem to gravitate toward us. Every time we visit a shelter, we put its people at risk." Xu leaned forward on her elbows, peering at each officer. "Which is why we are going where there are no people, and no monsters. We're sailing deep into the ocean, indefinitely."

Atrop gasped audibly. "Um, m-ma'am," he began, trying to control his shock. "Respectfully, if we go into the ocean, we'll have no way of communicating with the rest of the world. What if Ultimecia doesn't decide to ignore them? Won't they need our help?"

"It's not like they're defenseless, Atrop," Xu consoled. "We've seen that the monsters avoid sealed shelters. Most of our casualties occur out in the open, where we are most vulnerable. I don't think the people in shelters will need our help."

Atrop suppressed a grunt. He wasn't convinced that Xu's logic would hold up; sure, the monsters avoided the shelters, but wasn't that only because the humans in the open were easier targets, low hanging fruit? There was nothing that suggested they wouldn't move on the shelters once all of humanity was in them. But Atrop didn't have any evidence to refute Xu, and if they went to the ocean, he wasn't going to get any.

Xu looked to the far end of the table. "What do you think, Selphie?"

Selphie gave a simple shrug. "All the kids' families are on the Garden, they ain't got no ties to land. It'll be an adventure, they'll be fine."

"And you, Dr. Kadowaki?"

Kadowaki was quiet for a moment, her face thoughtful. But she turned to Xu and answered with her soft, low timbre voice, "I have no issue, Commander."

After a moment of silence, Beau spoke up. "What about Nexi?" he asked. "If she wanted to come back, how could she?"

Xu frowned, suppressing her irritation. "Nexi made her choice," she said curtly. But she noticed Beau and Atrop's downcast faces, knowing they may never see their friend and sister again, and decided she needed to give them some hope. She softened her voice. "But, once we are settled into our routine, we can send small expeditions on the high speed boats. We'll arrange message drops with the local shelters. It's more risk that I've been willing to take on; every line of communication is an opening for Ultimecia to track us. But it will give Nexi a way to reach out. Sound fair?"

Atrop and Beau looked doubtfully at each other, but nodded slowly in agreement.

"Good. Let's finish loading the last supplies, and communicate the plan to the community. We will depart in 24 hours. Dismissed."

After the others left, Dr. Kadowaki lingered in the doorway. "Xu, may I have a word?"

Xu stiffened, hoping to project a military strictness in her posture, but she felt awkward, feeling heat come to the back of her neck. "Of course, Doctor."

Dr. Kadowaki smiled at her gently, her face placid and wise. "I would like to ask you, are we going to the ocean for our sake, or yours?"

Xu reddened. "I'm a soldier, Doctor. Every decision I make is in the best interests of the Garden."

Dr. Kadowaki suppressed a soft chuckle. She walked over to Xu and placed her hand on her shoulder. "Dear, I've served through three headmasters. Believe me when I say, every one of them have had doubts, and needed help getting through them."

Xu sighed irritably, but she replied respectfully. "I know, Doctor… but I have to show strength. Any sign of doubt I show to the cadets will weaken their resolve."

Dr. Kadowaki nodded. "I have a question for you; you don't need to answer it now." She removed her hand and walked back toward the door. On her way out, she turned. "Is a soldier really who you need to be right now?"

Xu looked back at her confused, but Dr. Kadowaki simply winked, turning back into the hallway as the automatic door closed behind her.

In the bright sunlight on the quad lawn, Ames sat in front of his easel, making light sketches of the mountain scenery in front of him. He was facing due north, looking at a large snowy peak on the edge of the Trabia region. The mountain was an almost perfect triangle, markedly taller than the rest of the range continuing to the right. To the left, the slopes fell into a large patch of brown land, scarred and torn. Ames had learned fleetingly in history class that this was the site of the first Lunatic Pandora test, where over 50 years ago an artificial Cry had been triggered.

But Ames' subject was the mountain peak and the landscape directly in front of it, a patchwork of bright green hills and clumps of dark forest. He paid special attention to the shapes presented before him: the triangular form of the mountain, the ovalness of one group of trees, the curved line of a river flowing between them. It was what he'd been learning in his art class – draw what you see. Do you see a triangle? Draw a triangle. Do you see a square? Draw that. Notice what you are looking at.

Ames' easel was set up about ten feet away from a low wall and railing, on the other side of which was a twenty foot drop into the spinning halo below. But in the space between the easel and the balcony, one of Ames' twin sisters slipped into his field of vision. "Morning, Bro!" she waved enthusiastically, proudly sporting her new white SeeD uniform.

Ames grunted, slightly irritated at being distracted. "Good morning, Abby," he said flatly.

"She's not Abby, I am," leaned in the other twin, from the other side of his easel.

"No. You're Fan, she's Abby."

Abby huffed. "How is it you always know?"

Ames shrugged, grabbing a flaky gray eraser to soften a pencil mark. "Dunno, cuz I'm your brother?" Though in reality, he thought it was because he was an artist. He couldn't explain it exactly, but when he looked at the twins together, his artist's eye revealed subtle differences. Abby it seemed was slightly underdeveloped compared to Fan, her facial complexion slightlyless smooth, her eyes slightlynarrower. But also, Abby was more playful, while Fan was a little more reserved and mature. With enough practice he could now tell one from the other even when they were separate.

Abby shook her head in disappointment. "Well, we've got news for ya. The Garden's leaving." She leaned forward with her hand at her mouth, bringing her voice to a whisper. "We're goin' to the ocean. Ma wants you and Joy packed up and in the apartment in one hour."

"To the ocean!" Ames exclaimed in a low voice. He looked at his sketch, glad that he had captured the essence of the scene in front of him. Who knew when he'd see it in detail again? "Thanks, I'll pack up."

"You know where Joy is?" Fan asked.

Ames grumbled. "I have no idea! I ain't her mom."

"No," Fan conceded, but raised a chiding finger at him. "But you are her brother, and we need your help to keep her safe."

Ames sighed. Fan was right, of course. Joy often ran off without telling anyone, and at the age of nine it often got her into trouble. "Ok, I'll help find her."

He started packing up his easel. Where was Joy, anyway?

Outside the front entrance of the atrium, a wide paved road led to the main gate, flanked by rows of tall and meticulously trimmed hedges. The road was busy today, a throng of workers coming in and out as they got the last supplies loaded. But most didn't even notice the young girl with long brown hair, tucked into a corner behind the hedges, concentrating hard on a small plant she was secretly cultivating.

Joy in turn hardly noticed the workers as she focused on her young rhododendron, nestled in an open space between the hedges and a tall white wall. The plant looked tired, its petals faded and its leaves yellow, but it was not for lack of trying on Joy's part. Wearing bright yellow gloves with pink and white polka dots, she dutifully circled the little bush with clippers, pruning the occasional odd growth. As she so often did while working, she daydreamed back to an oft remembered memory of another rhododendron, situated in front of her family's ranch on a warm summer day. She remembered the smell of the fresh mulch she would sit in, watching Selphie stand on tiptoe to reach her clippers over the much taller plant. Joy remembered how frustrated she looked, glaring while biting her tongue at the odd branch she wanted to snip. After missing it and nearly falling forward, she threw her clippers down and stomped angrily.

But that was when Irvine came up behind Selphie, hugging her with his big arms. "Hey now! Not so rough. You're not trying to blow it to smithereens." He reached down to pick up the clippers and noticed Joy sitting in the mulch. "You wanna show Ma how it's done?" he asked her with a wink.

Little Joy glowed brighter than the sun, nodding enthusiastically and reaching toward Irvine. He scooped her up in one arm and handed her the clippers, then leaned her over the rhododendron to clip the wayward branch. She remembered Irvine and Selphie's cheers as they hugged and kissed her, a rare moment for a child with four other siblings, for once getting all the attention of her parents.

As Joy moved her clippers past one of the rhododendron's flowers, one of the petals fell to the ground, discolored and wrinkled. "No! No no no!" Joy whispered seethingly to herself, tossing the clippers aside and scrambling to pick up the lost petal. She tried vainly to attach the petal back to its flower, desperately smushing it into the bulb like a bent puzzle piece. Recognizing her failure, she cast the petal aside, tears forming in her eyes. "Oh, now what will I do?!" she moaned. This was supposed to be a surprise for her mother. If the rhododendron died it would take years to grow a new one. What could she possibly do now?

As Joy wept quietly at her predicament, she suddenly noticed an odd smell. At first she thought it was fertilizer, a stinky, earthy odor that any gardener would be quite used to. But there was another, sharper smell underneath it – an acidic, decaying smell that made her nose wrinkle, like the smell of a dead animal. As she wiped the tears from her cheeks and started to look around for its source, she heard a soft voice from behind her. "Hello, my child," the voice said, in an icy whisper that chilled Joy's spine. "What upsets thee?"

Joy spun around. There in the shadow of the hedges stooped an old man, bent over double. He wore khaki overalls, the same style as the Garden caretakers, and an old dusty cabbie hat. His face was square, gruff and wrinkled. He was smiling at her kindly, but there was something… distorted about his face. The right side of his mouth sagged slightly, his cheeks shallow. His gray eyes were cloudy with cataracts, his left eye rolling lazily even as his right tried to focus. And it seemed that from his forehead, all the way down the side of his face to his neck, there was an enormous white scar, stitched like a fleshy zipper.

Joy felt disturbed by this person, though she couldn't say why. But she knew it was impolite not to answer him. She wiped her nose on her sleeve, sniffed, and answered quietly. "My plant is dying."

"Oh, my poor dear," the old man cooed. "Prithee, let me see if I can help." He plodded awkwardly forward toward the plant, listing slightly to his left and dragging a limp foot. He reached his hands to inspect the plant – round, calloused hands with broken nails, covered in dirt. "Aah, my dear," he said, "thou hast not weeded thy garden."

"Weeded?"

"Look around thy plant's roots. What dost thou see?"

Joy looked at the trunk of the rhododendron. In the soil around it there was a fine carpet of grasses, dandelions, and green leaves. "Other plants?"

"Yes, my dear. These are starving thy garden, robbing it of nutrients for its growth. To save it, thou must remove them." The old man raised his hand toward the weeds and muttered words – harsh, cruel words, it seemed to Joy. There was a jingling sound in the air, and then the weeds glowed red. The old man did a gesture like grabbing and pulling a handful of air, and the red lights leapt from the weeds into his clenched fist. Every plant the magic touched swiftly withered to black, curling in on themselves and crumbling. But then the old man opened his hand and showed his palm to the rhododendron, green lights suddenly appearing and dancing around its leaves and flowers. Every part of the plant seemed to grow, branches stiffening, leaves greening, buds flowering.

Joy gasped as she saw the marked improvement to her rhododendron, its flowers a lively purple, its pollen smelling like fresh cloves. "Thank you, sir!" she exclaimed, delighted at such a quick fix to her predicament. But then she noticed all the dead and withered weeds. "Why did you kill them?" she lamented. "Weren't they alive too?"

"Indeed they were. But left alive, they would kill thy plant." The old man tilted his head awkwardly toward Joy, almost rolling it across his chest to his shoulder. "This is what it means to be a gardener, my dear: to decide which plants live, and which die."

Joy shuddered at the word 'die'. It felt like every day one of her siblings used it. "Our Pa died, Joy," they would remind her. She still didn't believe it, and why should she? All she knew is she fell asleep in Irvine's arms, then woke up the next morning in a bed on the Garden. Why should her Pa be dead?

The old man peered at Joy inquisitively. "What dost thou think, child?"

"My Pa's dead," Joy answered somberly, but flatly as if she was only reciting what her siblings told her.

"Oh, how I sorrow for thee, my child," the old man cooed. "And yet take solace. Like these weeds, isn't thy father's death giving life to thee?"

"I… suppose so," Joy answered. She didn't quite understand what this old man was saying, but thought it rude to tell him that.

Over the din of the loading traffic, Joy heard a call from Abby: "Joyyyyyy!..." She knew she needed to get back. "Thank you again, sir," she said with a stiff bow before dashing back toward the road.

The old man smiled, but as he did his face seemed to grow dark, a shadow passing over his withered brow as he melted backward into the hedge. "I would be happy to meet thee again, my dear."

That evening, Beau Kinneas was sitting at the desk in his and Fable's dorm room, studying for his pilot's exam. In front of him was a schematic of Balamb Garden. He was leaning over the diagram, his glasses inches from the paper, scrutinizing a cross-section of the Garden's exterior wall. His desk was piled high with scattered books and texts, everything from magic junction tables to refinement recipes. On the wall over the desk hung Irvine's hat, and dangling from the same hook was a small woven dreamcatcher necklace.

Beau was so focused that he didn't notice Fable sneak into the room. He almost jumped when she came up behind him and hugged him, planting a wet kiss on the side of his neck. "Whoa, hey!" he exclaimed, reaching across his shoulder to rub her arm.

Fable looked at the desk. "Whatcha lookin at?"

Beau turned his attention back to the schematic, shaking his head bemusedly. "I don't know… I was studying for my test, but I've found something weird." He placed his finger on the diagram. "Look at this wall. Does it seem odd to you how thick it is? It's hollow, too. But as far as I can tell there's no plumbing or electrical in it…"

Beau looked up at Fable to see her reaction, but she only smiled faintly, gazing off into space. Beau knew that mood, and knew Fable was bothered by something. He folded his glasses and rested them on the table, turning his swivel chair toward her. "What's wrong, hun?"

Fable sighed audibly as she headed to the bed and sat down. "It's Nexi… I'm just so mad."

Beau nodded. "You know her, she has to do things her way."

"But we're her family, Beau! We've got to stick together! She could die out there!" Fable shuddered, clenching the bedsheets with trembling hands. "I've lost Squall, I've lost Rinoa, and now Zell?! I can't lose anyone else, no way no how!"

Beau looked sorrowfully at Fable. He got out of the chair and came to sit by her, taking her hand. "I don't think going out there and dying is Nexi's plan. She'll come back."

"She better!" Fable huffed. But then, more pensively, she breathed slowly and placed her hand to her stomach. "Otherwise she won't know she'll be an auntie."

Beau smiled at the reminder. "That's right. She has to come back, doesn't she?" He squeezed Fable's hand. "Hun, I've seen enough of your sister to know how stubborn and strong she is. I'm sure she knows what she's doing."

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Nexi was sitting by her lonely campfire, hemmed in by the low cliffs of the narrow defile she was camped in. Earlier that day she had been standing at the entrance to the high mountain pass, looking back as the Garden retracted its metal ramp and rolled away toward the northern ocean. As it left, she had felt the pang of separation, the gravity of her choice now fully weighing on her – there was no going back.

She pulled a fleece blanket tight around her, warding off the chill that had come with a light dusting of snow earlier that evening. She didn't know it, but her camp was in the very place where her uncle Laguna had filmed the The Sorceress' Knight, the one credit to his short acting career more than fifty years ago.

As Nexi stared into her fire, she wondered what her next move should be. Resigning from SeeD had freed her from the chain of command, but she had lost all access to the Garden's resources, other than some pack rations and her camping gear. Maybe she could go to one of the shelters, get some help from Laguna? But then what? What was she trying to do? Where was she trying to go?

As she was thinking, her fire danced like little silk ribbons, fluttering with a hypnotizing allure. Her eyelids started to close, her head to nod forward as the flames lulled her into a doze. She jolted herself awake, not wanting to fall asleep outside her tent. But it was then she noticed on the other side of the fire, a man was now sitting, staring at her quietly.

Nexi sprung to her feet. "Seifer!" she yelled, almost falling backward in surprise.

Seifer laughed triumphantly. "Not keeping a great watch, kid. I would've said something but you were snoozing like a baby!"

Nexi grumbled as she took her seat again. "Didn't think I needed to be on guard up here, that's all," she lamely offered as an excuse.

"You should," Seifer remarked more seriously. "Red dragons used to nest up here. They'd be a nasty thing to run into by yourself." He poked the fire to bring it more to life, then tossed a potato from his pack into the embers.

Nexi shook her head. "What are you doing here, Seifer?"

Seifer chuckled. "I might ask you that."

"I… don't know," Nexi admitted, her shoulders sagging. "I know Xu's going the wrong way, that's for sure. But which is the right way?"

Seifer nodded as he tended to his potato, turning it over with a stick. "Yep," he said with a nod. "That was my thought too. I ain't gonna get stuck on the ocean when there's stuff to do on land." With a quick jab he speared the potato and pulled it out of the fire, tapping it loose onto a tin plate. Steam flowed out from the hole where the stick had pierced it. As Seifer forked a few pieces and ate, Nexi noticed how much older he looked now than when she had met him ten years ago. It would have shocked her even more had she known him in his youth – a tall, valiant man, shear blonde hair, brimming with confidence and swagger; now, he looked slightly withered, his face rougher, his blonde hair faded and graying.

Seifer took one more mouthful and set his plate on a nearby rock, clattering it loudly as he chewed. "You were asking what I'm doing here? I'm heading to Galbadia. Fujin and I are gonna look for Galbadia Garden."

Nexi perked up. They hadn't had contact from the western continent for two years at least. "Fujin? Where is she now?"

"Heading to the coast – she has a rendezvous arranged with a boat."

"Why didn't you go with her?"

Seifer raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Nexi. "To find you, of course." He produced a tin mug from his trench coat pocket and scooped some water out of Nexi's cooking pot. "Since you don't seem to have plans yourself, why don't you come along with me? Galbadia's as good a place as any, and you certainly weren't gonna go there with Xu. And we can always use the extra muscle on a trip across monster country."

Nexi reflected on that. He was absolutely right, she knew. She was kind of ashamed she hadn't thought of Galbadia right away. But traveling there would have been nigh impossible without Fujin's boat arrangement. Ultimecia's forces often targeted boats and docks to prevent travel, and the exposed train bridge, the one that stretched to Timber via Fisherman's Horizon, was considered a death sentence. But now, with Fujin and Seifer? It was certainly possible. And if Quistis was still in charge of Galbadia Garden, she'd be a great resource to consult.

"Yeah," Nexi nodded affirmatively. "Sounds like a plan."

"One thing though," Seifer warned, his tone suddenly serious. Nexi looked up at him to see his face rigid, his eyes hard. "Don't try to be a hero."

Nexi was stunned to hear Seifer suddenly become so cold and chiding toward her. "W-what do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," he said sternly. "No glory seeking, no idealistic bullcrap."

"And when have I done that?" Nexi argued, somewhat abrasively.

Seifer huffed. "How about that crap you pulled at the shelter, that got Zell captured?"

Nexi bowed her head, abashed. She didn't have an answer to that. Was that why she had ignored Xu's order? For some odd sense of glory? She shook her head, bewildered; had she really become so callous and selfish?

She nodded slowly. "...Okay. I hear you. I won't try to be a hero."

Seifer narrowed his blue eyes for a long moment, the dwindling campfire dancing lightly in his steady stare. "Right then." He stood quickly and brushed off his trench coat, his usual swagger snapping back into place. "Let's hit the sack? We've gotta long way to go."