Ellone had always been able to tell when she was dreaming. She knew other people could do that too; she'd been told they felt it comforting, like they were in control. But for her, it could be downright terrifying. There was so much lurking in her mind that she didn't understand, and worse, she could never know what was her imagination and what she had gleaned from someone else's memory.

Sometimes, though, she would get a cold feeling that she couldn't escape, and she just knew she was inside the mind of someone she would like nothing better than to forget she'd ever met, yet through the dream she knew them more intimately than anyone else ever could. When other people complained about having nightmares, she wondered if they could possibly know what a truly bad dream was.

Now she was having a nightmare — and she knew this memory was hers.

The dream had no sights or sounds, just feeling. There was incredible pain, and weariness, but both were overcome by an overriding malicious hate – insatiable, so ingrained as to go beyond any reason or purpose; it merely was, crowding out anything and everything else.

She had been in this mind before, and she knew she would never forget it. Ultimecia. Her will was so powerful that it took Ellone what felt like ages to find the other mind she knew was there. In many ways, it was the opposite – there was the pain, and anger, and both fueled their own sort of strength, but this was counterbalanced by a sense of kindness and selflessness, and all of this was tempered by a powerful sense of doubt that the mind itself resented. All this left it easily pushed aside by Ultimecia's tremendous presence.

Then, there was another mind as well – angry, and even more hateful than Ultimecia, but without focus, and there was desperation and even fear as well. This was Adel. She felt the mind change, regressing through time to before the desperation or the hate; a trace of the anger lingered, but to anyone who hadn't witnessed the change it would seem to be the mind of an entirely different person – and Ultimecia's mind quickly pushed it aside as well.

Ellone was now searching for that third, weakest mind, but it was lost again in the sea of hate. Adel was reacting to Ultimecia, fighting back, and the contest was excruciating. She could feel how enraged Adel was at the assault.

And not just at Ultimecia. Adel knew she was there, and that it was she who had brought Ultimecia's mind into hers. And Adel would always hate her for that, even more than she hated Ultimecia. And Ellone couldn't help but feel she was right to.

All she wanted to do was take Ultimecia's mind away and leave Adel in peace. But she couldn't; Ultimecia had to stay. And she had to put Adel out of her thoughts if she were to find the mind that she could save from this horror.

She knew no systematic way to search through someone else's mind; it was all done by instinct, and hers was failing her. Ultimecia's presence was growing stronger, crowding out everything else, including Ellone, and pushing into Ellone's mind itself.

This wasn't what had happened, she thought. This wasn't the memory.

Ellone tried to resist the advancing presence, but the mind she had reached into was now bent on crushing hers, more strongly than she could bear.

Panicked, she tried to disconnect herself, but the presence held on, smothering her mind and refusing to let her go. It continued to grow, until her entire universe seemed reduced to that cold, tired rage.

Her eyes flew open; she was in her bed, in Esthar, and awake, at least mostly, but she couldn't move — and the presence was still there, like a knife in her mind.

And she realized what had really changed. This wasn't Ultimecia. It was something much, much worse.

The blackness returned, and the anger grew, crowding out all the pain and the exhaustion that had been paralyzing it. The mind had a purpose now, and was more driven than Adel or Ultimecia had ever been. Ellone felt as if her head would explode.

Then it was gone, and Ellone was awake. She lurched up, and fell straight out of bed; for a long moment, she simply lay on the floor, panting and shaking in a cold sweat, and no less horrified than before she awoke.

"...Oh, no," she breathed. "Oh, Hyne."

- - - — — - - -

It was evening, and Squall was lying with his back against the same tree he had slept by the previous night. He knew it was a bad idea, and that the Galbadians would eventually find him if he stayed in the same place, but he couldn't think where to go. He couldn't go where Rinoa might be recognized, or where he wouldn't be able to protect her, and he couldn't jeopardize Garden — for that matter, he couldn't trust everyone at Garden; all it took was one student who thought it might be better to warn the Galbadians than to shelter a Sorceress. And he had to be able to protect Rinoa.

But the way it seemed to add up, he couldn't go anywhere, any more than he could stay where he was. Of course Seifer was getting frustrated, but it wasn't like Squall was stalling for time.

Or was it? At least here, Rinoa was safe for the moment. The trees were dense enough to give them some cover, but sparse enough that he could see danger coming a fair distance away.

Assuming he was awake when it came. It was late, and he was getting tired.

Rinoa moaned, and Squall was on his feet in an instant. "Rinoa?" he asked, kneeling by her side. "Rinoa, are you awake?"

Her eyes fluttered, and she raised a hand to her head. "...So tired," she muttered. "So..." Then she opened her eyes, and looked straight at him. "...Squall?"

Squall felt weightless. "It's me, Rinoa. Oh, thank Hyne. I thought you might..." He shook his head. "How do you feel?"

She sat up, swaying a bit; Squall put a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and she put her own hand on his. "...You came to rescue me," she said, smiling. "My knight."

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner," he said. "Rinoa, I'm sorry. But I'm here now, and I'll protect you. I promise you'll be safe from now on."

He caught something in Rinoa's eyes, an emotion he didn't recognize. Then, as he watched, a strange calm seemed to come over her. She smiled again, but it didn't feel right.

"Squall," she said. "It wasn't your fault. I know you did everything you could."

She stood. Squall did as well, more than a little astonished. She seemed to have completely recovered, and looked even taller than Squall remembered. He guessed this was because she was standing ramrod-straight, which itself looked a bit unnatural.

"Thank you for everything, Squall," she said. "You've been a good friend."

Squall frowned, and a chill passed through him. This wasn't right. "...Rinoa?"

She didn't say anything, or even acknowledge his words. She just turned and started to walk away.

"Rinoa!" Squall started after her. "What are you —"

It was as if he had been swatted by a giant invisible hand. Squall went flying backwards, slammed into the tree behind him, and fell to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. Coughing, he looked up to see Rinoa had turned around to look at him. She sighed.

"Squall," she said, "I appreciate the thought. And I'm sorry it had to end like this."

He felt himself being lifted again, to hover about half a meter above the ground. Rinoa was shaking her head sadly, and by her expression it looked like she was chastening a child.

"But you can't follow me now," she said. "And you shouldn't try."

Squall was thrown backwards with even more force this time, crashing straight through the tree and striking another behind it. He never even felt himself hit the ground.