Author's Notes: Another month, another chapter. This one un-betaed because of SO MANY FINALS and then going to a graduation. Geez, I need more time. But it is what it is. Back to the story.

Hyne's War: Chapter 21

All of that being said, Nida still kept quiet about the truth of his orders from Squall. He wanted to believe in Elijah, more than anything, but trusting him wasn't something he could afford to do. Seifer and Squall had worked to hide what they were planning from the Zebalgans. Telling Elijah would give Boyce a chance of knowing what was coming. Everything could be ruined by that. The hope of avoiding full on war depending on Nida refusing to trust Elijah, no matter what he said.

Still, not doing anything would make Boyce far more suspicious than acting, so Nida couldn't just sit around with Elijah and wait. He was here to negotiate (though the members of SeeD found the world leaders were foolish to think that any agreement would come), here to try and avert a war. So there was nothing to be done but go out and start working. There had to be information out there, in the hands of those Zebalgans not on the council, that SeeD could use. And there were the surviving members of the council, the ruling body, that Nida needed to deal with. As much as he wanted to curl up in the bed, pressed against Elijah, Nida stretched and stood, pulling away from Elijah.

"I know that look," Elijah said with a sigh, shaking his head. "You aren't even going to take the time to rest, are you? All work and no play..."

"Is what we signed on for when we took the SeeD Exams," Nida countered. "And I wasn't sent here to relax."

"Negotiations won't work. By being here, you've turned over one of the most powerful bargaining chips you had at your disposal. The only thing he will demand now is for SeeD to back down, hand over Seifer and the Sorceresses, and allow the people to achieve the future he desires."

"Nonetheless, this is what I've been sent for. Whether they want to hear what I have to say or not, I am responsible for speaking anyway. Someone will hear me, even if it isn't this council of yours. The people, at least, might listen to me. Maybe if enough of them take my words to heart..."

"That may affect the council's decisions when you speak to them. Unfortunately Boyce..."

"Isn't my problem at this second," Nida countered. "Right now I need to focus on what can be done, not what may stand in the way. I want to speak to the members of the council."

Elijah considered this for a moment. Then, at length, he nodded. "Give me an hour. I'll find and gather the members that are here at the sanctuary. Do you want Boyce to be present?"

"How would people see it if I didn't include him?"

Again Elijah sighed, and Nida nodded. "I thought as much. Yes, him as well. When you've found them, and they agree to speak to me, come and find me."

"Find you? Where are you going to go?"

"While you're doing that, I'm going outside to speak with anyone who will listen to me."

Finding someone to listen was far easier than Nida had guessed it would be—and he'd thought it would be easy. Even as he strode from his room—alone as Elijah had left to find the other three council members several minutes before—the whispers seemed to start. Someone had seen him leaving the room and had run off at the sight of him, and by the time Nida made it to one of the larger rooms he seemed to remember from the guidance to his room, he found himself facing a large group of people. When he looked over them, his eyes slowly moving over the room, the general buzz of whispers in the background seemed to fade. As if they couldn't speak when their heir looked upon them.

They were a mixed group, as different from each other as Nida could imagine. People with the look of Galbadians and Trabians, ones with the characteristic clothes of Esthar or Balamb, with different colored hair, eyes, clothes. There was nothing shared between them, not that Nida could easily see, except for two things everyone shared: the looks of awe upon their faces, and colored strips of cloth tied around their left arms. Those came in a range of colors, both familiar and strange. Black, gray, brown, blue, red, green, all different kinds of colors. It was the all too familiar shade of red that made him realize just what the bands were. The shade was the same crimson that Elijah had always favored, and the color of the robe Elijah wore in both videos and Nida's dreams. The bands, then, probably represented which division of the Zebalgans a person was associated with. Nida was quite relieved to find that the reds of the fighters, and blue that Joshua had worn were far less common than the browns, grays, and greens. Hopefully that meant that these people would be more willing to hear him out than other colors would.

No one was speaking. Whether they were naturally timid, or just in awe (as their expressions would suggest), it was all just too much for Nida.

Ah, but such is the fate of one such as yourself, Siren whispered. Accept that and use it to make you stronger.

I don't want it at the price they are asking, Nida countered. Still, the silence was almost maddening, and Nida found himself clearing his throat just so something could cut through it.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to interrupt whatever it is that you were doing," Nida said, knowing it would sound as foolish to them as it already did to him.

There was a moment of people glancing around at each other, some silent conversation going on. At last some agreement was reached and an older woman with a gray band stepped forward. She had all the looks of a traditional Esthari woman, right down to the robes and the well tended hair. Nida could see how carefully she kept her eyes from meeting his, and when she bowed to him, it was deep and formal. Everything about it was so perfect so careful, so flawlessly executed that it instantly called to mind a similar display. This was exactly how some of the more traditional Esthari treated Laguna or Squall. It was the most rigid, respectful, and proper form of greeting one far above another's station, especially royalty. Was that, then, how these people saw him?

"No forgiveness is required, m'lord. We were awaiting the pleasure of your presence."

"Please, none of this 'lord' or 'heir' business. My name is Nida, nothing more."

The woman seemed a bit distressed by this declaration, but she smiled politely as she started to straighten from her bow.

"If such is your desire, then so we shall call you."

This was going to be far harder than he had thought.

"This isn't about my desires," Nida mumbled under his breath. Then, louder, "Listen, I don't know what you've been told about me, but I'm not the kind of person that needs, or wants, all of this concern over me. The truth of the matter is that the only thing that has ever made me any different from anyone else I've ever known is the occasional vague dream. I'm just a pilot and a mercenary, nothing more, and probably a lot less."

"But you're..." the Esthari woman started to say, before trailing off. It was almost as if she feared contradicting him.

"I'm an orphan, twice over. I'm a trained mercenary. I'm a top class pilot, and not too bad of a fighter. There are other SeeDs that can claim several of those things, others who can claim more notable traits. This is all I am, all I'll ever be. Please, understand that."

Now the mumbling began again, though only in the furthest back areas of the group (which had grown during the exchange). Either people didn't care for what he was saying, or they didn't want to believe it. Still, the first step was hearing the words from Nida, wasn't it? Maybe if he could just get it through to them that he wasn't anything special, that he wouldn't help them, then they could make this stop. Of course, there was always the other potential result: they would think that his time with SeeD had misled him and ruined his ability to take on his role.

Things shall play out as they are meant to, Siren assured him, her touch in his mind feather light. In that you must have faith.

So much easier said than done.

"M'lord, I do not understand," another person spoke up, a young man about Nida's own age with the look of Trabia and a scarlet armband. "Do you deny that you are the heir which was promised to us?"

"I've been told that I am this heir, and I admit to having some of the characteristics that have been described. There are some nights that I dream, and later the dreams seem to come to pass in some way. But rarely is it ever exactly as I've seen. But never have I seen a path to what your people seem to desire."

"We are your people," a voice called from the back of the crowd.

"I'm sorry, but the only person whose word I have on that is Megill's. Before what he set in motion I never knew the man, and I have heard men after far lesser ends tell far larger lies. I do not know him as your people do, and so I cannot put my faith in him as readily as you do. All I know about Megill is that on his command many good people have died. He has called for the head of a man who, though misguided at one point, has saved my life on several occasions. He has condemned women who have done no crime save for being born with abilities others do not have, and since I'm born with abilities others don't seem to have, how can I justify judging them?"

"The Sorceress Knight saved your life?" the first woman asked. She seemed genuinely curious, as did many others around her, so Nida couldn't help but smile.

"Would it be too much to ask for one of you to see if they can't find me a seat?"

Before there was even really time to think beyond the end of the question, someone was pushing past the edge of the crowd , a chair held tightly before them. The young woman finally made it free of the crowd, and placed the chair on the floor between Nida and the crowd. When he smiled at her, she blushed, bowed her head, and backed away. It gave Nida just enough time to reposition the chair and sit down, a sign for the others gathered to take a seat as well, though most of them did so on the floor. Whether that was because enough chairs couldn't be gathered quickly, or they were operating on the old tradition of not having their heads above that of a person they considered powerful, he couldn't be sure.

"Yes, I owe my life to Seifer Almasy, possibly for more reasons than just the obvious one. What it comes down to, though, is what happened in Winhill. As you may know, I was raised in Winhill, and the village is dear to me. So when I saw the village in a dream, with violent forces ringing it, I had to act. Nor could I go alone, because Seifer was ordered to watch over me. I convinced him to join me, which was the best choice I could make. Because in Winhill I encountered more than just Elijah, who I expected and meant me no harm. There was another man there, by the name of Joshua..."

There were a few scattered gasps of shock, though Nida didn't note any from those wearing blue bands. No, he saw anger in the eyes of those wearing the blue bands—they knew where this was going. They at least knew who Joshua was, that he was dead, and now guessed it was at Seifer's hands. How shocked were they going to be?

"Seifer and I were caught up in a fight with Elijah. None of us were expecting Joshua to be there. None of us knew just what he would do. Joshua tried to kill me. The first attempt Elijah prevented, leading to our finding out that he was part of a Zebalgan group that felt that the 'heir' was not necessary. Because Seifer was there, I only had to focus my efforts on staying alive. I dealt with Joshua, was forced to kill him to save my own life. Seifer helped tend to my wounds, and when we later discovered that Joshua's blades had been poisoned, he stayed by my side until Doctor Kadowaki managed to cure me. While that may not seem like a lot to some of you, those of you who have been in combat know quite well just what it is worth to have someone protecting your back so you can face someone without fear. What is more, when Garden was attacked, he was at my side fighting, to defend our friends and people we were responsible for. He has done more than enough to redeem himself in my eyes."

There was more talking now, even some clear outrage in the listeners. Whether it was over Seifer, Joshua's betrayal, or Nida's killing of Joshua was unclear, but there was no denying the outrage.

"I guess what I'm saying is that the past isn't what matters if you manage to put it aside to make a better future. Seifer has saved my life, spared it once or twice, and has stood by me through all that has been happening. How could I stand by Megill's demand to see him dead? If I am to trust Megill, I must have a reason to. He'll have to earn it."

"And I expect he shall work to do so," Elijah's voice came, even as his hand came down on Nida's shoulder. Something about the action, the touch, made Nida shudder—a memory of a dream he could not place—but he tried to hide the fact. "The council, such as it is, has summoned you before them. I am sorry to take you away from your audience but..."

"I understand," Nida said, rising from his seat and stretching. "I was just telling them about the beach outside of Winhill."

A furious look flashed across Elijah's face, and pushed past Nida with hardly a thought.

"Listen here," Elijah said, addressing the crowd, "if I hear about any one of you holding Nida responsible for the death of Joshua, I will drag you before the council myself. Boyce, if no one else, will have something to say about that. Anyone who would strive to slay the Heir, who we have been waiting for, deserves punishment. The only thing I regret is the fact that Nida had to have that fool's blood upon his hands. Even in death Joshua was undeserving of the attention of one such as Nida."

There were some nods of agreement, murmurs that Nida could barely make out as affirmation of Nida's words, and even several proud nods. Then again, there were a few smoldering looks of anger directed at Elijah. Nida carefully marked those men and women—again mostly those with blue bands—so that he could describe them later to Elijah. It was likely that he wouldn't know them, but he might know someone who would.

"Now, Nida, we must be going. Patience is not a virtue the council has been practicing of late."

Nida stood silently before the carved stone doors of the room where he would meet the remains of the council that ruled the Zebalgans. Well, 'ruled' from what Elijah had told him wasn't exactly true. Boyce Megill was the one who ruled here, no matter what the council thought. All he could do was hope that he gave some thought to what his council might suggest to him. Squall was prone to taking advice, but who knew what this man would be like.

He'd been left alone on this side of the door—carved with the images of some of the lost GFs Nida had seen before, and other creatures he had to assume were other GFs—while Elijah joined the council. There was ceremony and traditions and such that demanded Elijah's presence, demanded that Nida arrive on his own, unsupported by anyone. Of course it had demanded one other thing, and to that Nida had been unwilling to relent. It demanded that any member of the council must attend in their robes, and that the heir was instantly considered a member of the council once he would arrive to join the people. Of course, no one could come before the council without reflecting their position among the Zebalgans. To this end Elijah had returned Nida to his room to cut a strip of fabric from the discarded pale blue robes. That was now pinned in place around Nida's left arm, marking him clearly as what these people insisted he was. It stood out, bright and accusing, against the navy blue of Nida's SeeD uniform.

Still, it was what was required of him, and whatever he needed to do to be taken seriously was what he was going to do. He needed to remind them that he was more than just their supposed heir, he was a SeeD, and here to avert war. Here to protect not only their people, but all peoples. Hopefully this would be enough to remind them.

Three sharp knocks came from the stone door, and with a sigh Nida stepped toward the door. As Elijah had told him, it started to swing upon as he approached, soon revealing a dark room with only a few points of light focused on four robed figures sitting on stone chairs. As Nida moved past the doors, they began to swing shut behind him—how were they even doing that—and the only thing he had to focus on were the four. Straight before him was Boyce Megill, clad in his blindingly white robes, and to his right Elijah slumped in his chair, red robes bunching up around his legs (Elijah had never been fond of clothing that restricted movement). To Boyce's left were the two council members that had stood at the top of the stairs at Nida's arrival, their hood still pulled forward to conceal their faces. One wore a shade of yellow almost as blinding as Boyce's white, the other was in the brown that a good deal of people Nida had seen were wearing. This time Nida wracked his brain for what the colors meant, knowing he'd heard Squall mention it after Andria's death.

Yellow was research, so that made the person up there the head researcher for these people. Brown meant support work, which went far in explaining why there were so many more of them than any other colors from what Nida had seen. It was the reds, greens, and blues that Nida had to be the most cautious around. Them and Boyce. If what both Elijah and Boyce had said were true, Nida might be as vulnerable to whatever compulsions Boyce might try to place upon him.

Which might be what that recurring dream is warning me of, he thought, mentally sighing.

I will protect you, little bird, Siren promised. Always I will protect you.

If only that was a comforting thought.

"We see you, promised heir, and welcome you before this, the chosen council of our people," the woman in yellow said, and woman she was from the sound of her voice.

"And for that, I thank you," Nida said, bowing. "But I would ask that I not be numbered among the people. Forgive me, but at this point I have no reason to believe the assertion that I am of Zebalgan blood. I am an orphan, and none has ever claimed me save a solitary woman in Winhill, who I know was not of your people."

"Believe what you will,but in the eyes of the people and this council, you are counted as one of us. In fact..." the woman said, only to be cut off.

"We must respect his choice," the man in brown said, cutting the woman off. "We all know that we have nothing more than suspicion regarding the bloodline of the heir. All we can be sure of is that he is of Zascaroon's line, and that we know only because of what little information that has been revealed to us through our sources. It is better for us to base our decisions in fact than upon suspicion."

"Can you not live a little on faith?" the woman in yellow demanded.

"For someone of the yellow, who claims to be a scientist, I would not expect faith to be high on your list of concerns," Elijah said, shaking his head. "Either way, can't we just be thankful that he chose to bear the color at all? We know his opinion of our people and traditions, his stance on what the people desire, and most of all, we know he's here as a representative of SeeD and many others, not as the heir. Perhaps his uniform will remind us of that."

"Yes, rather fitting he wore both his uniform and the color. I wonder what motivated that decision..." Boyce spoke at last, glancing at Elijah from the corner of his eyes. "Regardless, he is here now, and would speak to us. So please, let him speak."

The brown and yellow clad council members sighed and sat back further in their seats, whereas Elijah actually sat up straighter, obviously on edge. Nida, though, was left standing. It was a choice that Nida could almost applaud Boyce on. They'd covered ways to turn interviews into more subtle interrogations, and one rule was denying someone a seat. Standing around for a long period lead to tension in body and mind, and it became easier to learn what you wanted. Of course, knowing what was going on was one of the best ways to reverse the expected power balance. All he had to do was hope that Megill wasn't as familiar with what classes and specialties Nida had taken during his training.

"I thank you for seeing me, and would begin by asking that you all take the purpose for my presence seriously. As Elijah has pointed out, I'm not here in the role of heir. I am here as a representative of SeeD, Garden, and the united leaders of the major nations of this world. It is my hope to broker a lasting peace between your people and those of the world. We only have several days to make this peace before I am required to report to my superiors. If I do not, they will come for me, regardless of the cost. Because of this, I have been given full authority to make agreements on behalf of Garden and SeeD, as well as Esthar. They will hold other nations to any agreements made here that I advise them as acceptable. Is this understood?"

Nods all around, though Boyce's was slower coming than the others.

"I am also to tell you that the first and foremost thing that the Gardens and Esthar will not agree to is surrendering me permanently into your control. There is a fear, and one I feel may be justified, that you would abuse whatever power you used me to find. Beyond that they may entertain other agreements. I also have something to say on my own behalf."

"Your personal input is always welcome before us, heir," the brown clad man said.

Nida nodded in thanks to the man, he seemed to be the most rational here, before continuing. "If I truly am this heir that you have been waiting for, then your wait hasn't ended. We've all lived through two wars, and the kind of power that Hyne should have is too great to not cause another. And that is just the conflicts that would come from the power itself, not even what might rise if Hyne guards the magic himself. The world needs a chance to recover from all of the ill that has been wrought upon it in the name of power. If the wars have taught us anything, it is that power can only lead to war if it is not properly handled. And while I can't be sure that the Zebalgans would handle it either poorly or well, the fact of the matter is that someone always tries to step up and claim too much power."

"And you would not say that some people, such as Esthar with its technology, or Garden with its magically powerful SeeDs are not claiming too much power?" Boyce questioned.

"Esthar is currently run by a man who has more reason to loathe war than anyone else I know. Laguna Loire faced Adel to end her oppression of her own people and others. He didn't do it for power, but for others he saw suffering, and for a little girl. What did it win him? He lost his wife and son. Even when he gained the latter back, it was as the world was again faced with war, when the little girl was again being pursued by dark forces, and when the world needed him to be strong. But beyond that, has Esthar ever made a hostile move since Laguna came to be their leader?

"As for Garden... To assume that being able to use para-magic is too much power, I counter with what I've seen of your own people. I have seen both Salamander and Mateas, and I can testify first hand as to how powerful the latter is. This means your own people have access to para-magic, and as Elijah, Joshua, and I'm sure others had access to the SeeD training, they know how to make the best use of it. But we all know the repercussions of that power. Surely Elijah has told you, and that you, Megill, are aware that Garden discourages the maintained junctioning of GFs at this point, and attempt to limit use thereof even in combat. The cost is too high... What we lose may be so much more important than what we gain."

"But do you deny that Garden is furthering their research into the use of Guardian Forces through the intervention of Dr. Veringas?" the woman in yellow demanded. "Surely that shows your willingness to fight."

That was a bit of information Nida hadn't really thought would get back to the Zebalgans. Why he thought that he wasn't sure, after all Xu had been privy to the information, but he hadn't. But it said something that these people cared that Veringas was at Balamb Garden.

"He was called in to study those GFs we have acquired from Zebalgan agents. It was Doctor Kadowaki who contacted him, and may I say that she never has, and likely never will, be a proponent of war. Veringas himself only cares about his research."

"Research into GFs. Who is to say that he is not working to better weaponize the GFs? To minimize the repercussions of using their power?" she countered.

Nida sighed and shook his head. Chances were that these people would not believe what he was saying.

"No, I do not believe that Garden's control of para-magic is any more dangerous than your control of it. Nor do I believe it would be turned against your people unless the issue was forced."

"And if it were forced?" Boyce asked.

"Then Garden... Then I would work to stop you. We will not allow any more wars. The world needs time to recover, and we won't let you prevent that. Peace is within our reach, and we won't let you take it from us."

Boyce seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he nodded and rose. "We shall take your words into consideration, but I do not believe we are able to put forth any requests to be discussed at this point. I would ask that you return to us at this time tomorrow. By then the council will have had time to consult and reach our conclusions. Elijah, would you be so kind as to guide the heir back to his rooms, or anywhere else it would please him to go?"

"Of course, my lord," Elijah said, rising as well. The other two, though, remained sitting. "May wisdom guide your decisions."

"I would have you guide them as well. You are my successor. Return here this evening. I would hear your words."

"As you wish."

Boyce moved around the back of his chair and all but disappeared into the darkness, the yellow clad woman and brown clad man following. It left Elijah and Nida alone in the dark room. Black and red and the stark white of the stone chairs.

"I really don't know why I expected you to get through to Ashura. She isn't as reasonable as Vernon can be, and Boyce..."

"To be honest, I don't expect him to relent without others forcing him to. I have every intention of continuing to work with the people themselves..."

"Might be your best bet."

Nida nodded in agreement. "But before that, I want to know more about the layout of this place. I must be able to come and go to where I need to when you are not around."

Elijah nodded, even as he started to walk towards Nida. As he walked he started to pull his robe off, tugging it over his head until all that was left was a pile of red fabric in his hands. Since he looked about ready to drop the thing—half in disgust, half in annoyance—Nida snatched it from him and started to fold the robe. Once that was done he passed it back to Elijah, who just smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Can't you ever just let me do what I want?"

"This hardly seems like the kind of place you want to leave that lying around. You might annoy someone."

"What do I care?" Elijah asked, chuckling. "Come on..."

Nida couldn't help but smile as he followed Elijah.