Chapter 6
One Step Closer
(Seifer)
"RAGE!" Fujin said.
"Wha?" Raijin said. Startled, he looked at her. She pointed at the tail of his shirt, where a thin line of smoke rose and curled in the air. Following her finger, he glanced down and saw a single ember burning into his shirt, glowing like a spark. Raijin hollered, his voice echoing in the cave. He swatted at his shirt with his bare hands, screaming again when the hot ember burned his skin. Despite the pain, he slapped the ember again and again—yelping with fresh pain each time—until finally he crushed the fire, leaving a charred semi-circle along the hem of his shirt. He looked at the ruined bit of fabric and whimpered.
A few paces further down the path, Seifer watched, shaking his head.
"Next time, don't be puttin' out a fire with your hands, Raijin," Seifer said.
"But I had to save my shirt, ya know?" Raijin said. He looked at his hand and hissed with pain when he saw the damage. Red, burned splotches darkened his palms and fingertips. "Aw man, that's gonna smart."
"Quit whinin'," Seifer said. "And stay away from the rocks." He turned away and continued deeper into the cave. His two companions followed.
In the fire cavern, the molten guts of the planet pushed their way up towards the surface. Churning lava flows growled on either side of a narrow rocky path, illuminating the cave with a blood red hue. Gases released from the lava formed a thick black haze that stung the eyes and seared the throat. Crowding the sides of the walkway were numerous rock outcroppings jutting up from the lava, blazing hot. As Raijin had learned, even the briefest contact with the rocks could cause skin or fabric to burn. By keeping to the center of the natural walkway, it was possible to venture to the heart of the cavern. Possible, but only barely so.
In his science courses taken at Garden, Seifer learned the role the fire cavern had in creating the island of Balamb. The lava, while it was still hot, made one of the most inhospitable places on the globe. But when it cooled over the course of thousands of years, it formed the grassy fields and the soaring peaks of the tiny island nation. Without the raging heat of the fire, there was no peaceful seaside city of Balamb, there was no Garden. Without the fire, there was no life on land at all, this far into the sea. The island was a tool, and the cavern was its forge.
(Poetic, in a way.)
Balamb Garden used the fire cavern as a test of bravery, strength, and endurance for their cadets. Students wishing to graduate and become full members of SeeD had to first pass a prerequisite in the cavern, journeying into the depths of the cave to find and defeat the Guardian Force that lived there. Surviving the trip and completing the mission proved that one was competent enough to participate in a Field Exam.
The fire cavern was off-limits unless someone was taking the prerequisite. In addition, the prerequisites were timed, leaving cadets with very little time to get in, complete their mission, and escape. That meant that any objects dropped or left behind—personal items, valuables, extra supplies—were often gone for good, as no one would ever come back to retrieve them.
Perfect for any scavengers willing to brave the heat of the island's fiery heart.
"Hey, look!" Raijin said. He saw something shiny in a nearby rock outcropping and reached his hand to pull it out.
"RAGE!" Fujin yelled again, but too late. Raijin closed his hands on the metal object, then screamed and pulled his hand away.
"OW OW OW!" Raijin yelled, flapping his hand in the air and dancing in agony.
Seifer walked over to the outcropping and crossed his arms, glaring at his friend. Raijin blew on his hand to cool it off.
"Raijin," Seifer said, "Tell me you didn't just try to pick up a piece of metal with your bare hands… in a cave full of lava."
"Sorry, man," Raijin said, still wincing. "I forgot."
Seifer turned to the outcropping and saw the object that caught Raijin's attention. He used the tip of his gunblade to snag the item and pull it free. As he pulled it closer to his face, he could see it was a small wristwatch, made of silver or some similar metal. Despite the ravages of time and heat, it was still ticking. Seifer carefully dropped it into the palm of one gloved hand and examined it. The band was warped, but otherwise it was in good shape. It would be worth some money back in town.
Seifer let the watch cool down for a couple more seconds. Even through his gloves, he could feel the heat pouring off the metal. Fujin stepped forward, holding open a cloth sack they had pulled from the Garden's dumpsters. The sack contained all the items they'd managed to scavenge up to that point. When the watch was cool enough to not burn the fabric, Seifer tossed it into Fujin's bag with the rest of their loot.
"Good work, Raijin," Seifer said. "But more lookin', less touchin'."
"Yeah, yeah," Raijin said.
As they went deeper into the cave, the heat and the fumes concentrated. Soon it was nearly impossible to see more than a few steps ahead. Seifer slowed his pace to keep from accidentally walking off the path and into the lava. The black smoke burned his eyes and throat, forcing him to cover his nose and mouth with the sleeve of his heavy gray trench coat to keep from choking. Sweat poured down his face.
Raijin and Fujin followed behind. Fujin copied Seifer's example, covering her face with her blue sleeve. Her eye patch acted like a gutter for the sweat on her forehead, drawing the moisture down the side of her face. Raijin's purple mini-vest made the heat easier to bear, but did nothing to protect him from the smoke. He tried to cover his mouth with his hand, but was having no success. His coughing and gasping was almost constant.
Among the rocks, fire, and smoke, Fujin was able to find a ring, and a small amount of loose coins. Raijin found a broken sword hilt, and a shiny rock that he dropped into the bag before either of his companions could object. Seifer found a beaten pair of gloves, a ripped backpack, and some sort of computer chip. Each little bit went into Fujin's bag.
The pathway narrowed until it was only a couple paces wide. Seifer could see the end of the trail, where a bright orange glow shone through the smoke, like a lighthouse on a foggy night. Though he was still too far away to see it, Seifer knew that at the end of the path was a circular platform where rocky arches reached up from the lava and over the walkway, forming a natural dome. There rested the Guardian Force Ifrit, awaiting his next challenger.
As GF's went, Ifrit was fairly tame, conversing with humans and offering his services to all who could best him in combat. He wasn't very strong either, and most cadets who made it this far into the cave were able to subdue him in a few minutes. Seifer and his posse had all beaten Ifrit before, during their own prerequisite tests. They still junctioned to him, drawing a part of Ifrit's strength as their own.
(Maybe that's why he's so damn weak. Everyone in Garden's got a piece of him.)
Still, there was no sense in disturbing the old fire GF, and Seifer was ready to get out of the fire cavern.
"End of the road," Seifer said. He turned and started back for the exit. "We're headin' back."
"Finally," Raijin said, slumping his shoulders with exhaustion. "Can't wait to get out of here, ya know?" He coughed violently. He snorted up a wad of mucus and spat it out onto the rocks where it sizzled, evaporating in moments.
"WUSS," Fujin said, her voice muffled by her sleeve. Her one eye glared at Raijin.
"Quit yappin' and keep movin'," Seifer said.
They trudged back up to the mouth of the cave, feeling the temperature drop with every step they took. They kept their eyes open for more treasure, but Seifer was confident that they had found everything worth claiming. This was their fourth journey through the cave, and they found less and less with each visit.
(This is probably gonna be the last trip we make.)
A minute later, Seifer held up his fist above his shoulder, signaling the other two to stop. They did, instantly. With the constant rumble of the churning lava, it was hard to discern any other sounds in the cave, but Seifer could hear the clatter of approaching footsteps. With his hand, he motioned for the other two to hide. A few steps back down the path was an intersection where two rocky walkways met. They retreated to this intersection and escaped along the side route. They went as far down the path as they could, but there was nothing around to block them from view except their distance from the main path and the omnipresent smoke. The three crouched and waited.
Raijin absentmindedly set his hand down on the rocks as he crouched, and was rewarded with another fresh burn. He held his burned hand in his other hand, struggling not to cry out. Fujin and Seifer glared at him.
(Dumbass.)
A few seconds later, two people jogged by: a young boy in a blue cadet's uniform, carrying a sword, and an older girl in a black SeeD uniform with a machine gun. It was obviously the boy's first attempt. He coughed constantly, tears streaming down his face. He struggled onward with faltering steps, fighting against the smoke and heat. Seifer didn't recognize either of them.
"Remember to keep breathing and don't panic," the girl said as they ran through the intersection. "The biggest obstacle to overcome is fear. If you can manage that—"
The two disappeared down the main path without so much as a glance at the three scavengers off to the side. When the two were gone, Seifer stood up, followed by Raijin and Fujin.
"Guess they're runnin' prerequisites again," Seifer said. "Good for them."
"Suppose that means everythin's back to normal at Garden, eh?" Raijin said.
(Never seen someone wear their full uniforms for the prereq, though…)
"Let's go," Seifer said.
Compared to the depths of the fire cavern, it was now easy traveling for the three. Seifer and Fujin no longer needed to cover their faces with their sleeves, but Raijin continued to cough and spit all the way back, as his lungs worked to clear out all the junk he'd breathed in earlier. After another couple minutes, Seifer finally saw a yellow dot of sunshine up ahead. Eager to be out of the inferno, he sped up to a jog, with Fujin and Raijin keeping pace a few steps behind.
He burst outside, shivering with the sudden drop in temperature. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of the clean air, savoring the cool breeze. He opened his eyes and saw Xu standing to the side of the cave entrance, holding a clipboard and a stopwatch. Seifer's pleasure vanished, replaced with contempt.
(Oh… Her.)
"Hey, Xu," Seifer said, casually. He coughed, then cleared his throat.
"Seifer," Xu said. Her voice and face were expressionless. "What are you doing in there?"
"High intensity training," Seifer said. He swung his gunblade with a flourish. "Can't let myself get soft, right?"
Fujin and Raijin stumbled out from the cavern, coughing and choking. They immediately saw Xu and stiffened. Their eyes went from Xu to Seifer, then back again. Neither said a word.
"Of course," Xu said. "Wherever Seifer is, Fujin and Raijin aren't far behind. What are you three getting up to now?" She looked at the bag in Fujin's hand, bulging with their scavenged goods. "And what's in your bag?"
"Training equipment," Seifer said quickly. "Boxing gloves. Throwing stars."
Xu raised an eyebrow. "Throwing stars?"
Seifer shrugged. "Hey, I said high intensity training, didn't I? I wasn't kiddin' around."
"You better not have disrupted the prerequisite with your… training," Xu said. She pointed an accusatory finger at Seifer's face.
(Watch where you're pointin' that…)
"Psh. Those dumbasses never even knew we were in there," Seifer said. He looked over his shoulder to Fujin and Raijin. "Right, guys?"
"We vanished like smoke, ya know?" Raijin said, puffing out his chest. Then he coughed.
"NINJAS," Fujin said.
Xu rolled her eyes. "Well, vanish from here. Go away."
"Tch. I'd be more than happy to," Seifer said. "I never really liked you anyway."
Before Xu could respond, Seifer turned and walked away, his posse close on his heels.
"Real mature, Seifer," Xu called after him.
Seifer waved back at her, but did not stop.
"What you got for me today, Seifer?" the junk shop owner said from the back of the room.
"Hey," Seifer said.
The walls of the junk shop were lined with shelves full of miscellaneous trinkets and tools, all covered in a thin layer of dust and cobwebs. Old street signs, shop signs, and posters occupied every open space on the walls. Seifer had to negotiate between open boxes full of silverware sets, collectibles, knick-knacks, and other items in order to get to the counter in the back where the owner—a fat man with handlebar mustache and a stained t-shirt—waited. He nodded to the junk shop owner, then set the cloth sack atop the counter. One by one, he pulled out his loot and displayed it on the counter. The junk shop owner looked down and sneered at each item.
"Crap. Crap. Garbage. Crap. Junk. Crap," the junk shop owner said. "And is that… is that a damned rock?"
The owner picked up Raijin's shiny rock and stared at it before dropping back on the counter. It landed with a hard thunk. Seifer sighed.
(Damn it, Raijin…)
"Tell me you got something better than this in that sack," the junk shop owner said.
Seifer reached in and pulled out the ring that Fujin had found. He held it between his thumb and forefinger. "This has gotta be worth something, right?"
Seifer dropped the ring into the palm of the junk shop owner's hand. The owner brought the ring close to his face and peered at it with one eye closed.
"Eh, I suppose it would be," the owner said, "If it weren't bent and burned to hell. This is junk too."
He tossed the ring onto the counter with the rest of the stuff. It bounced off a couple items before settling down next to the rock.
"Of course it's junk. You're a junk shop owner," Seifer said, "I thought you'd love this stuff."
"Ha ha, that joke gets funnier every time I hear it. I'll give you a hundred for the lot."
"A hundred gil?" Seifer said with a snarl.
"No, a hundred chocobos," the owner said. "This is junk, Seifer. I don't know where you found this all, but I'm guessing it was a dumpster somewhere."
(Bastard…)
Seifer sighed. The junk shop owner was the only buyer left in town who'd give anything for Seifer's scavenged goods. What was worse, the owner knew he had a monopoly, and refused to haggle. Any time spent trying to talk up the price was time wasted.
"Fine. A hundred it is," Seifer said.
The junk shop owner collected all the things and put them on a back shelf. Then he went to his cash register, punched in "NO SALE," and took out a hundred gil. He set the coins in a stack on the table. Seifer scooped them up and put them in his pocket, adding them to the coins Fujin had found.
"You know, if you really want to make some money…" the owner said.
"I'm not sellin' my gunblade," Seifer said. He narrowed his eyes at the man across the counter and protectively touched the grip of his weapon.
The owner shrugged. "Hey, if you ever change your mind, my offer still stands," he said. "That's still the best thing you've ever brought in here. And what good is it doing you? You ain't a SeeD. The money would help you than the blade. Trust me, carryin' around something like that is just asking for trouble."
"I'm not selling it," Seifer said. "In fact, I'm thinkin' of modding it."
The junk shop owner laughed, throwing his head back and clutching his belly. Seifer waited for him to stop, glaring at the man.
(The hell's so funny?)
"With what money?" the owner said, still fighting down chuckles.
Seifer scowled, but ignored the owner. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He unfolded it and laid it on the table. There, in black ink, was a picture of a phoenix, wings spread wide as it rose from a blaze at its feet. The phoenix started the fire, and the fire created the phoenix in a cycle of endless destruction and rebirth. Seifer liked his drawing. Normally art wasn't his thing, but after a few dozen tries, he'd been able to make a picture he was proud of, something he was willing to permanently brand on his gunblade.
A symbol—representing his ideals, his vision, himself.
"How much to put this on my gunblade?" Seifer asked.
The junk shop owner pulled the design across the table and examined it. "Both sides of the blade?"
Seifer nodded.
"Custom designs are four thousand a side," the man said. "It'll take me a day or two. Cash up front. No refunds."
"Four thousand?" Seifer said. He punched the countertop. "You've got to be frickin' kidding. You have designs here for only a couple hundred. I've seen them."
"Those are premade designs that come from a kit," the junk shop owner said. "They're cheap designs for cheap people who wanna look cool. If you want a custom design, then I have to do all the etching freehand, and that takes time and money. Four thousand."
(He's tryin' to scam me.)
Seifer shook his head. "Damn ridiculous. No deal."
"Look, if you want it done right, you won't get it any cheaper than that," the owner said. His voice became an indignant growl. "Maybe you can find a place that'll do it for one or two thousand. Maybe. But those people are hacks, and they'll botch the design. Your nice little phoenix here will end up lookin' like a diseased turkey roasting on a campfire. Or worse, they'll wreck the blade entirely, and you'll have to buy a whole new one. Four thousand is the best offer you'll get for quality work."
Seifer held his gunblade with one hand and picked up the empty cloth sack with the other. "I'll think about it."
"If it's an issue of money, we can work something out," the owner said. "I actually need someone to help around the store, if you're interested. If you do good work, I'll etch your blade for free."
"I'm not lookin' for a job."
The man raised his eyebrows and snorted with derision. "You need money so bad that you'll go diggin' in the fire cavern for it, but you're too good to work at a junk shop? The hell's wrong with you, kid?"
Seifer turned and walked away, moving through the boxes and junk to the door. "I don't need a damn job."
He threw open the front door and stepped outside. The door banged on the wall and slammed itself shut. The owner would probably be angry about that, but Seifer didn't care. Since there wasn't anything left to find in the fire cavern, his business with the ugly old hick was finished.
(As if I'd ever work for that bastard…)
The sky was blue, fading to orange, spotted with seagulls turning wheels in the sky. The air smelled of salt, and the sounds of the waves raking the shores, the bells of buoys, and horns of ships heading to the docks reached all the way up the hill to where Seifer stood. Past the houses, through the narrow streets, Seifer could see glimpses of the sea, with boats speckling the horizon.
Growing up, Seifer had always heard nothing but praise for the town of Balamb. It was "peaceful," people said. That was the word most often used to describe it. They said it was beautiful, the people were kind and courteous, the food was excellent. Tourists came from all over the world, and, when asked, most claimed that they never wanted to leave. Balamb, they said, was somehow outside the world, unaffected by its problems. Here in Balamb, a person could truly get away from it all.
(But no one ever talks about how damn boring it is. You don't hear that in the travel brochure.)
Balamb was a city happy to do nothing. Most of its permanent residents worked on fishing boats. They were drunkards, the lot, and if one gave them half a chance they would tell the same damn stories about the same damn places and the same damn ocean. Seifer never knew it was possible for so many different people from so many different eras to all share the exact same story. All tales of adventures on the high sea were identical:
"We almost died, but then we didn't."
A storm came up, the waves crashed, the ship took on water. Things looked grim, but the storm passed. It was all the same. The stories they told about their times at port were no better. All the port cities were the same. There were no more exotic locales to discover, no unusual people to meet. All the cities and all the peoples had been intermingling for decades. There was no mystery left in the ocean, but the sailors were too stupid or too drunk to realize that the romance of the sea was as dead as the fish in their nets.
(Everything's the same.)
Seifer turned around a corner, heading down a street that looked like every other street in Balamb, past houses that looked like they tumbled off an assembly line. All the houses in Balamb were built half underground, their front doors just below street level, as if the houses were cowering, hiding from some unknown threat. Peering over the lips of their entryways to see if it was safe to come out yet.
Late afternoon was one of the most active times of day for Balamb. "Active" in this case meant that Seifer passed a total of three or four people on his way to his destination. Past the Balamb Hotel, but not quite all the way down to the docks was a stout, two story tavern. It was frequented by sailors and tourists alike, being equally close to the docks and the train station, which kept the business high enough to afford regular paint jobs and maintenance, so the tavern was one of the few buildings not cracked and flaking from the relentless erosion of the salt air. Seifer pushed open the door of the tavern and stepped inside.
It smelled of stale beer, fish, and oil. The yellow light of the tavern came from a handful of dim lightbulbs smeared with a film of grease. A short bar at the far end had a rack of alcohol bottles and a cracked mirror. A few uneven tables dotted the rest of the floor, populated by the tavern's regulars.
Though Seifer hated the tavern, he had to admit that it had become one of their most reliable sources of income. Fujin and Raijin's specific talents proved useful in the bar, and could usually earn them enough money in a day to keep themselves fed, and keep a room at the hotel.
Fujin had taken a liking to demolishing people at cards. She was one of those players who had become so good over the years that she no longer needed to be good anymore. Her personal deck was so impressive that it was mathematically impossible for all but the most skilled players to beat her. The only downside was that it was illegal in most of the world—including Balamb—to bet money or valuables on a card game. However, placing the cards themselves up for stakes was not only common, it was an expected part of the game. By winning games and cards, Fujin could then turn around and sell off her winnings to collectors and enthusiastic children. It didn't earn much, but it was better than nothing.
Seifer found her in a corner at the far end of the tavern, slouching in a chair across the table from her latest victim. The man she played against sweated as he stared at his deck, analyzing every possible move. Fujin didn't even look at her cards, instead watching the man with one half-lidded eye. The man finally laid a card down, nervously. As soon as it hit the table, Fujin randomly grabbed a card from her own deck and slapped it down, claiming the man's card. She didn't even need to see her own card; she knew it was better than his. The man dropped his last card into place, and Fujin instantly took that as well. It was like smashing a bug with a cruise missile: sheer overkill.
The man swore aloud, as if his defeat was somehow a surprise.
Fujin claimed her winnings: a single card chosen from the man's deck. She eyed her opponent.
"AGAIN?" she asked.
The man glared at her, perhaps threateningly. Fujin met his gaze, knowing she would win both a fight and another game of cards—whichever the man chose. Finally realizing he was beaten, the man broke and looked away. "No, I've had enough for today," he said.
He gathered the rest of his cards and pushed his chair away from the table. He stood up, mumbling, and crossed the room, walking around Seifer and out the tavern door. Seifer moved over and claimed his vacant seat. He leaned his gunblade up against the wall.
"Get anything good?" Seifer asked.
"GARBAGE," Fujin said. She stuffed her cards in a small black box and put it in her pocket. "YOU?"
Seifer shook his head. "We did lousy today, Fuge," he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small handful of gil he'd gotten from the junk shop owner, plus the coins they found in the cavern. "All that stuff only got us a hundred gil."
"RING?" Fujin asked.
"Too wrecked to be worth anything," Seifer said.
"WATCH?"
"Wrecked too."
Fujin rolled her eye.
Seifer turned his head and saw Raijin sitting a few tables away. Raijin's antics and easy-going manner made him quickly bond with drunks. Once he built up a rapport, he'd invite them to play any number of bar games that he knew. For some reason Seifer was never able to deduce, Raijin was almost supernaturally good at almost every bar game ever invented. Currently, Raijin was flicking single gil coins into an empty glass with his burned fingers, landing them dead center every time. The glass clinked with every successful hit.
"That's twenty!" Raijin said, standing up and raising his arms in victory. "I win!"
The three other men at the table swore, but were too drunk to be angry. Each pushed a small pile of gil towards Raijin. Raijin scooped up his winnings and tucked them into his pocket. "Pleasure doin' business, ya know?"
Seifer sighed. Raijin's stupid little bar games were actually their best source of income. The local drunks were terrible at keeping track of how much they lost in a night, and as long as Raijin kept winning and kept them entertained—two things Raijin was particularly skilled at—they would keep throwing gil at him. It was never much, but along with the rest of their meager earnings, it was slowly building up a savings. Soon, the three would finally have the money to leave Balamb.
(As soon as we figure out where the hell we wanna go.)
After everything that had happened between Seifer, the Galbadian military, and the sorceress, he'd be lucky if he could ever set foot on the Galbadian continent again. Fisherman's Horizon was famously welcoming of strangers, but they—being strict pacifists—would have frowned at his gunblade and the way he used it to solve many of his problems. There were a plenty of small towns around the world where he would be able to live out the rest of his life in peace and anonymity. But he desired neither peace nor anonymity. He wanted a fresh start, to begin his life anew. To chase his dreams all over again. Not to sit in some unknown village and wait to die.
More than anything, he wanted mercenary work. Earning his living with the edge of his blade. That was what he'd been trained all his life to do, and what he was best at. But Garden had that industry cornered, and they weren't interested in Seifer's services.
(Their loss.)
Raijin noticed Fujin and Seifer sitting in the corner. He said something to the three drunks, something that sent them all into roaring laughter, then shuffled over to Seifer's table. There were only two chairs at the table, so Raijin snagged a third from an empty table and spun it around, taking a seat. He rested his elbows on the table and folded his arms.
"What's our take today?" Raijin asked.
"Crap," Seifer said. "We probably looted the fire cavern for all its worth. The way things're goin', we might as well stay in here all day. You guys make more money scammin' the tourists than we do at the cavern."
"LAME," Fujin said.
"Fuge's right, ya know," Raijin said. "Can't just sit around in a pub all day. Gotta get out and stretch our legs."
"Ain't nothing on this damn island but the fire cavern and Garden," Seifer said. "If you want, we can start trying to work over some SeeDs. They all got money, and not a hell of a lot of brains."
Fujin and Raijin shook their heads. Though the three had never discussed it, it was understood that their association with Garden was officially concluded. Their fate lay on a different path than SeeD's, and they had little desire to make those two paths intersect.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Seifer said. "It might be high time for us to leave this hellhole. Don't think there's any point in us staying here longer."
"FINALLY," Fujin said.
"Good riddance, I say," Raijin said.
Seifer leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. The other two leaned forward as well.
"So where should we go?" Seifer asked. "We can't go to Galbadia or Esthar. Fisherman's Horizon is full of wimps. What else is there?"
"TRABIA?" Fujin asked.
Seifer paused. Trabia Garden hadn't occurred to him. It was remote, and the students were unlikely to know anything about Seifer's past. He would be able to make up any story he liked, and they would be unable to verify it. Also, since they were one of the Gardens, they were bound to have more interesting jobs than what could be found in Balamb.
(Long as they don't know about me and the sorceress…)
"Ain't Trabia just a crater now?" Seifer asked. Fujin shrugged. "Eh, I guess it's worth a look. Okay, Trabia is one option. Anything else?"
The three thought for a moment. Fujin closed her eye, Seifer tapped the table with a finger, and Raijin stroked his chin.
"Hey, ya know, what about the Shumi Village?" Raijin asked. "We could—"
"Hell no," Seifer said.
"IDIOTIC," Fujin said.
Raijin held up his hands. "Okay, okay. It's just an idea… Jeez…"
The tavern door opened with a bang, drawing the attention of everyone in the room. Seifer and his posse turned their heads to see the new arrivals, more annoyed than startled. In through the door walked a man in a tight red uniform, which Seifer instantly recognized as the suit of a Galbadian officer.
(Why's he here?)
On the man's shoulders was a set of gray electronic shoulderpads, which served as a sort of mobile computer. Seifer never bothered to learn all the various functions of an officer's equipment, but he knew that they had the ability to keep short burst radio contact with other officers and soldiers. Atop the officer's head was a silver helmet with a reflective visor, obscuring his identity.
Behind the officer were two Galbadian soldiers, regular grunts in solid blue uniforms. Seifer was quick to notice that none of them carried weapons, which was unusual. He knew enough about the G-Army to know that their weapons were almost as much a part of their uniforms as their pants and shirts. To see them out in public without their swords and wrist-guns was bizarre. To see them in Balamb—of all places—was even more bizarre.
(Somethin's up.)
Seifer raised his guard, expecting a trap. He grabbed his gunblade and rested it across his lap, tightening his grip on the pistol-shaped handle. Following Seifer's lead, Raijin picked up his staff from the floor and Fujin pulled out her chakram and held it in one hand under the table.
"If I could have everyone's attention," the G-Officer said. His voice was high-pitched, whiny, and didn't command much authority. Memories of Galbadia's occupation of Balamb were still painfully fresh in the citizens' minds. They gave their attention to the wimpy officer and his two grunts, but Seifer could see the anger and rebellion simmering in the people's eyes.
Apparently the officer could see it as well. He paused and cleared his throat softly, making him look even weaker. "We're here on a peaceful mission," he said. His voice cracked. "As you can see, we are unarmed." He and his men raised their hands, showing them to be empty. "We have identified a possible sorceress threat in Balamb, and we are trying to deal with it as quickly as possible, then we will leave. If we could please have your cooperation…"
There was a long pause. No one moved or spoke.
"Thank you," the officer said. "This will only be a moment."
(Sorceress threat?)
Seifer hadn't heard anything about any sorceress threats. But then again, news was slow to reach Balamb, if it ever reached it at all. None of the hotels had cable access, so Seifer had to rely on word-of-mouth to hear news of the world. He looked to Fujin and Raijin, but their bewildered expressions showed him that they hadn't heard anything either. Whatever it was, if it involved a sorceress and Galbadia, it almost certainly meant a fight was on the horizon.
(Good.)
"If we could just speak with any women in attendance," the officer said. He scanned the dim tavern, but he saw nothing but men until his eyes crossed the room and settled on Fujin. He nodded at her. "Ma'am, if you would come speak with us outside."
He walked between the tables, stepping around bar patrons and chairs, keeping his hands limp at his sides. He stopped a couple paces away from their table.
"Ma'am, it'll just be a moment," the officer said.
Fujin looked up into his face and scoffed.
"NO," she said.
The officer swallowed again. Seifer couldn't see the man's eyes behind his mirrored visor, but his body language indicated gave away his fear. Seifer raised his gunblade a little higher on his lap and sneered, letting the officer get a good look at how long and sharp the blade was.
"It-it will only take a couple minutes," the officer said. "Please, it's for the good of everyone. The sorceress is a threat to us all—Balamb and Galbadia alike. We're not accusing you of anything. We just—"
"Pretty sure she said no," Seifer said. "You gonna disrespect a lady?"
He made a point of resting his free hand across the blade of his weapon, stroking it like a sleeping cat. The officer's head turned to Seifer, then angled down to look at his gunblade. The two grunts behind the officer took a few steps forward to support their officer, their bodies tense.
(That's right. Come a little closer, you dumbasses. Just another step or two oughta do it.)
The officer held up his hand to keep his men back. They stopped, letting the officer continue. "We don't want any trouble. It will only take a second, and then you'll be free to go."
"NO," Fujin said.
The tavern's owner behind the bar shuffled towards the far end of the counter. Whether he was secretly making his way closer to the tavern's kitchen or just trying to get his body as far away from the scene as possible, Seifer couldn't tell. From the corner of his eye, Seifer could see the rest of the tavern's patrons had their boots on the floor, their hands on their chairs, ready to bolt in an instant. They all watched the conversation as it unfolded.
"What's this about?" Seifer asked. "Why're you here?"
The officer licked his lips, then took a deep breath. Struggling to keep his voice even, he said, "There is a possible sorceress threat in Balamb. Like I said. We need to question the women of this town to see if anyone knows anything. That is all."
"She ain't a sorceress," Seifer said. "And she don't know anything about a threat in Balamb. Go look somewhere else."
The two G-Soldiers behind the officer exchanged a worried glance, but held their ground. "Please," the officer said. "It will just take a moment."
"WHY?" Fujin asked.
"Exactly," Seifer said. "Why can't ya ask now? Why does she have to go outside? The bar not good enough for you?"
"It's…" the officer looked at his men. He turned back to the posse and lowered his voice. "It's… because we have to test if she's a sorceress."
(Like hell.)
"Tch. That's impossible," Seifer said. He waved his hand dismissively. "There's no way to know for sure. Even friggin' Odine never figured out a way to do it."
"We can't tell for sure if she is a sorceress," the officer said. "But we can tell for sure if she isn't. It's just a quick, harmless scan. Please. This is for the good of Balamb."
Seifer's curiosity was piqued. He had never heard of any test that could establish, with any accuracy whatsoever, whether or not a woman was a sorceress. The magical energies associated with being a sorceress defied most technologies, and no reliable magical method had been discovered either. Every method proposed was either easily beaten by a real sorceress, or unreliable to the point of being no more than a guess.
"How does this test work?" Seifer asked. He was both intrigued to know the answer, and amused watching the officer sweat and squeak his way through explanations.
"It—it checks for magical energies in the person," the officer said. "It scores false positives if that person junctions magic, of course, but it helps us narrow down the field. If they come up negative, then we know for sure that they aren't a sorceress."
Seifer looked at Fujin, and she returned his gaze. All three of them were still junctioning their old magic from SeeD. It wasn't much anymore—battles with monsters and the events of the past few weeks had drained their stocked spells—but if the test was at all reliable, then it would easily detect Fujin's magic. It might be possible for her to exchange her magic with someone else, but she'd never agree to that.
(No way in hell is Fuge gonna give up her junctions.)
Seifer turned back to the officer, lowering his voice into almost a growl. "And what do you do if a person tests positive?"
The officer's voice began to rise as his fear gave way to anger. "If I tell you, will you agree to come with?"
Fujin didn't hesitate. "NO."
The officer took a step back. "Look, I've been more than reasonable with you three," he said. He reached up and pushed a switch on his shoulderpads. A hiss of static came from a speaker on his shoulder. He turned his head to the speaker and said, "I'm going to need backup at the tavern—"
Seifer was up in an instant, driving the handle of his gunblade into the officer's gut, in an unprotected spot right below where his chest armor stopped. Seifer felt the satisfying squish of the man's abdomen under his weapon. The air escaped the officer's lungs in a high squeal of agony. With his free hand, Seifer thrust his fist into the officer's chin, his junction-augmented strength breaking the man's jaw like a dry twig. The officer was thrown back, crashing into the empty table behind him. The table flipped over, and the officer collapsed to the ground in a heap of chairs and spilled condiments. His limbs curled up like a dead spider, and he was still.
The radio on the officer's shoulders crackled for a moment, then went quiet. Both G-Soldiers, stunned by the sudden and brutal violence, stood frozen, staring at Seifer and their fallen officer. Duty to the military called for them to fight, fear of pain and death called for them to flee. They did neither, allowing Seifer plenty of time for his next attack.
(Psh. Rookies.)
In one smooth sweep, Seifer flipped his sword around, blade facing out, and swung his gunblade in an arc parallel to the ground. It connected with the nearest G-Soldier, catching him right in his armor plating, denting it. With practiced precision, Seifer pulled the trigger on his pistol as the blade connected. A round discharged in the gun's barrel.
Instead of firing a bullet like a normal gun, the gunblade instead used the force of the internal explosion to amplify the strike. The shot of the gunblade, coupled with Seifer's supernatural strength, hurled the soldier halfway across the tavern. His flight was interrupted by a table, which split in half, sending plates, utensils, and two bar patrons tumbling to the floor. The soldier's body rolled to the floor face down, and he moved no more.
Seifer turned to the second soldier and brought up his boot, leveling a devastating kick to the second G-Soldier's groin. The man stumbled back a couple steps, clutching his wounded manhood and moaning as he crumpled to the ground. With the soldier curled in a fetal position, Raijin calmly stepped up and drove the end of his staff onto the soldier's helmet, crushing it like a tin can. With that, all three G-Soldiers were dispatched, lying insensate on the tavern floor.
The whole battle lasted less than ten seconds.
The tavern was still, the patrons locked in the positions they'd been sitting in since the Galbadians first arrived. The two people Seifer had knocked over when he threw the G-Soldier stumbled to their feet, scratched but not seriously injured. By the expressions around the room, Seifer could tell they were debating if they should be glad the Galbadians had been dispatched, or worried about the three who had just won the battle.
"CHIVALROUS," Fujin said. Her one eye expressed a mix of amusement and sarcasm. Through it all, she had never moved from her chair, though her hand still clutched her circular weapon, ready for action.
Raijin looked around the room, at the frightened faces and ruined tables. He turned to Seifer. "What now, Seifer?" he asked.
Seifer rested his gunblade on his shoulder. He took a moment to consider his answer, then said, "We finish what we started. Can't have Galbadia bargin' in like they own the place."
He strode for the door, his heavy gray trench coat flapping dramatically behind him. Fujin and Raijin followed a step behind. Before he exited, he turned and faced the bar patrons. "Enjoy your drinks everyone. This'll be over shortly."
With that, he opened the door and the three stepped out into the street.
Seifer expected to see a squad of Galbadian Soldiers. Maybe a whole platoon or two. Even when Sorceress Ultimecia had absolute control of the military, she sent only a single company of two hundred soldiers to occupy all of Balamb and search for Ellone.
But the force brought down to bear upon the town of Balamb was far more than two hundred, and nothing less than extraordinary. Up the street, dozens of blue-uniformed soldiers canvassed the roads, knocking on doors and escorting women and girls from shops and houses. Looking between the buildings, down the hill towards the ocean, Seifer could see a horde of Galbadian soldiers clogging the docks. Dozens of Galbadian ships patrolled the bay, escorting Balamb's ships back to port with guns and artillery trained on the fishing vessels.
A block from the tavern, the women were sent to line up along the wall, where a Galbadian officer waved an electronic device over them. It looked like a gray brick with a light affixed to the end. After running it quickly up and down their bodies, the light would flash green, at which point the girls were ushered up towards the train station, to what was presumably a quarantine area. A thick wall of Galbadian soldiers prevented people from crossing into the quarantine without having first been cleared by the officer.
(They ain't even fighting back. Whole town's full of sheep.)
"No way…" Raijin said, his mouth open.
"EXCESSIVE," Fujin said. She slashed her chakram through the air to emphasize her point.
"No kidding," Seifer said. "Why'd they bring half the damn army to friggin' Balamb?"
(SeeD. Garden.)
Before Seifer could finish the thought, he caught a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye. He turned and saw three G-Soldiers approaching him, making a direct line for the tavern. They saw Seifer's group and the weapons in their hands and doubled their pace.
"Stay right there!" one of the soldiers said.
Seifer smirked and called out to the three, "Don't worry. I ain't gonna move."
(If Balamb won't fight back, then I'll do the fighting for 'em.)
He reached out his free hand towards the approaching soldiers and concentrated. He focused his mind inward towards himself. He summoned up the magical energy that he had stored within his Guardian Force, and then mixed it with his anger, his frustration, his humiliation. All the feelings that had defined his life in the past few weeks were poured into the spell. Sparks and flashes of light formed in the palm of his hand as the energy took shape. The three Galbadians had enough time to realize what he was doing, but not enough to react.
Seifer imagined what his enemies would look like if they were on fire. With a simple exertion of will, he didn't have to imagine anymore. Flame shot from his hand in a ball nearly the size of Seifer himself. It hit the nearest of the three Galbadians and exploded, sending a rushing inferno up and down the street. An instant later, there were three charred bodies and a black stain where the soldiers had been.
"ALERT!" a nearby Galbadian shouted. "EVERYBODY TO THE TAVERN!"
The soldier rushed away from the tavern, repeating his warning again and again, drawing the attention of the Galbadian hordes up and down the road.
Fujin threw out her chakram. It rolled along the ground on the edge of its circular blade, gaining momentum as it went. It found the G-Soldier who was sounding the alert and ran up his leg, along his body, and shot straight upward into the sky, the teeth of the chakram shredding a thick, red line deep into the soldier's entire body. He collapsed, spurting blood, as Fujin's chakram spun back into her grasp.
"Let's see what Galbadia's been up to out here," Seifer said.
All around the city, Galbadian warning cries were echoing through the salt air, filling the quiet town with shouts. Calmly, Seifer marched up the street towards the quarantine area and the testing station. Fujin and Raijin walked on either side of him, their placid, expressionless faces contrasting the growing panic among the soldiers. A few blocks away, Galbadians scrambled, repeating their warning cries and preparing for battle.
Seifer kept his eyes open and scanned around him. He expected to be ambushed immediately after the alert had been raised, but Galbadia had something different in mind. Instead of charging at him in ones and twos—as was their normal attack method—they instead withdrew and gathered their forces, readying to attack in one large mass. Seifer could see them gathering in a nearby alley, and down the street behind him. The soldiers around the quarantine area held their ground, trusting in their numbers to save them.
(Hmph. They're learning.)
Seifer marched up to the line of women pressed against the wall. They shrunk away and hid their faces, terrified of both the Galbadians and of Seifer. He ignored them and continued forward towards the officer that held the testing device. The officer raised his free hand. Around his wrist was a thick, gray device nearly as large as his helmet, with two small barrels poking out the front. Seifer recognized it as a Galbadian wrist gun, standard issue for the army's officers.
"Stop right there!" the officer shouted, planting his feet and taking a broad shooting stance, aiming for Seifer. Seifer and his posse did not slow. "Damn it, I warned you!" the officer said.
He angled his hand downward to keep it clear of his weapon and braced himself to fire. At the same time, Raijin spun his staff in his hand and cleared the distance between himself and the officer in one inhumanly long leap.
The officer had just enough time to gape in horror before Raijin dropped—staff first—into the officer's chest, throwing him straight back and into the line of G-Soldiers that formed the perimeter of the quarantine. A half dozen soldiers were knocked to the ground by the impact of the limp officer, and the rest were in stunned disbelief at Raijin's incredible jump.
Seifer seized the moment and broke into a sprint. Fujin's chakram raced past him, sawing open another Galbadian in one swipe before returning to its mistress. Seifer pounced on the nearest soldier, slashing up diagonally with his gunblade and pulling the trigger. The shot from his gun echoed through the street and sent the soldier flying into his comrades. Seifer stomped on a fallen Galbadian while Raijin plunged into the crowd with another superhuman leap.
Together, the two used the Galbadians' close formation against them. The soldiers were packed too tightly to effectively counterattack without harming each other, and every soldier Seifer or Raijin sent flying knocked several more to the ground, creating waves of confusion and piles of bodies.
Seifer charged forward, plunging the tip of his blade into and through a G-Soldier. He swung around and threw the soldier off his sword and into two more. Another G-Soldier rushed at Seifer's side. With his gunblade, Seifer swatted away the soldier's sword with a snort of contempt and sucker punched the soldier in the jaw, sending him staggering back into another soldier, both collapsing to the ground.
Raijin stormed through the group like a tornado, spinning his staff in all directions, parrying sword strikes from the Galbadians and breaking legs, arms, and skulls. From a distance, Fujin flicked out her chakram again and again, slicing up any soldiers smart enough to try to circle around behind Raijin and Seifer.
In a matter of seconds, the quarantine had completely collapsed, and all the guards who had been protecting it were dead or lying limp on the ground. Red rivulets ran between the cracks in the brick street, heading down the hill towards the sea.
Beyond the line of bodies was the pack of quarantined women. Mothers clutched at their daughters, families huddled together in terrified clumps. They stared at their three rescuers.
(And not a word of thanks…)
Seifer jerked his head at them. "Scram," he said.
Slowly, nervously, the women crept past Seifer and his bloody posse, moving back into the streets. Seifer turned around to face the city and the growing mass of Galbadians up and down the road. The stairs leading to the train station was at his back, and all the Galbadians in Balamb were ahead.
"Is that it?" he yelled at the soldiers, massing down the road. "The rest of ya'll too scared?"
He received no reply. The army of soldiers added more and more to their ranks, flooding the main thoroughfare of Balamb with their numbers. Officers strode through the crowd, directing soldiers, pointing at nearby buildings. Soldiers ducked into alleys and began taking flanking positions.
"SOON," Fujin said.
"Ya, they're comin' quick," Raijin said.
Seifer snorted. "Bring 'em on. Go get that thing the officer was carrying. I wanna see how it works."
Fujin walked towards where the officer had been testing the women. She bent over and picked up the little gray brick from the ground. She turned it over in her hand, examining it. Stepping over bodies, she returned to Seifer and handed him the device.
As she reached out to hand it to Seifer, she paused. With her one eye, she looked at a building on the other side of the street. Seifer had just enough time to wonder what she was looking at when every nearby doorway bust open at once, pouring G-Soldiers from every threshold. Soldiers rappelled from the rooftops and poured from the nearby alleyways. The train station, which Seifer had assumed was empty of soldiers, poured forth legions of blue-clad warriors with swords.
In moments, a ring had formed around the posse, at least six or seven soldiers deep in some places. Their total numbers were beyond count. All had their swords pointed out towards Seifer and his crew, forming an impenetrable circle of steel.
Seifer raised his gunblade defiantly and addressed the soldiers. "Who wants to die first?"
Even as he spoke, more Galbadians poured out of doorways, from the train station, and up from the docks, swelling the horde by hundreds at a time.
(Well… Damn…)
"Um… Seifer?" Raijin said. He held his staff out, ready to fight, but his face looked hopeless.
"SCREWED," Fujin said.
Seifer knew he'd only have a couple of seconds to come up with something before the soldiers broke on them in a crushing wave, so he went with the first plan that came to mind.
He looked at Raijin and whispered, "When I say go, grab Fuge and jump for the roof of the ticket office, then get outta here. Got it?"
"Wha?" Raijin asked. He looked at the squat ticket office, only a few steps away, but blocked by a thick wall of soldiers.
"Just do it!" Seifer turned away from Raijin, curled his hand into a fist, raised it to eye level, and looked at the Galbadians. "All right, you bastards. Ya'll wanna see a magic show?"
He focused his rage again, twisting up his face in a snarl of anger and hatred. His energy focused in his fist, making his hand glow white, as if he clenched the sun itself in his grasp. A couple of brave Galbadians started to come forward, to try to interrupt his spell, but Seifer thrust his glowing fist at them threateningly, making them leap back to the safety of the group.
(Wimps.)
When the spell was complete, Seifer howled in fury and triumph, then spun and faced his two companions. In one smooth motion, he stretched out his hand like he was throwing a ball. The energy flew from his grip and hit Fujin square in the body, ruffling her clothes and encasing her in a flash of light. A moment later, she began hovering slightly above the ground, like a feather caught in an updraft. Confused, she looked at her feet, then at Seifer.
"WHAT?" she said. She narrowed her eye at Seifer.
The power of the anticlimactic spell was so profound that the soldiers were stunned. Seifer smirked and looked at Raijin. "Go!" he commanded him.
Unthinking, Raijin grabbed Fujin around her waist with one arm, bent his knees, and did his special jumping trick. The spell that Seifer had cast made Fujin as light as the air itself, and her normal body weight did not slow down Raijin at all. In fact, a portion of the spell bled over to Raijin, extending his jump even further.
In one bound, he leapt up and over the Galbadian horde and to the roof of the ticket office. He hit the roof hard, recovered, then leapt again, launching the pair out of sight.
(Perfect!)
The shock still registered on the soldiers' faces, but Seifer knew it wouldn't last. Once his friends were safe, he focused his energy again for another spell, hoping he had enough time to cast it. He knew he wouldn't be able to bluff the Galbadians again.
The soldiers saw what he was doing and broke out of their trance, charging at him in one massive swarm. He swung his gunblade one-handed, still focusing his thoughts on his fist. Furious swipes of his blade cut down one, two, three, five, seven soldiers, but the wave of bodies was irresistible. Before the spell was complete, they were on top of him.
Hands seized his blade, his arms, his legs, his hair. They tugged in all directions, bruising his skin, drawing blood. Seifer's strength allowed him to wrestle off a few hands, but not enough. Soon his gunblade was ripped from the fingers of one hand, while the energy of the spell faded from the other. Feet and fists drove repeatedly into his side, his back, and his stomach, forcing him to his knees. He snarled in pain and rage, still swinging his fists even though his efforts were beyond futile.
After nearly a minute of struggling, the soldiers finally worked his arms behind his back. Another soldier produced a set of metal handcuffs and locked Seifer's wrists together. Another set of cuffs linked together his ankles. An unseen hand reached out and grabbed him by his hair, tugging his head upward so that his bruised eyes could look into the face of a Galbadian officer. Like all the others, the officer's face was obscured by a silver visor.
Dispassionately, the officer said, "You're Seifer Almasy?"
"Tch. Never heard of 'im," Seifer said.
The officer kicked Seifer in the gut, blasting the air from his lungs. Refusing to show even the slightest amount of weakness, Seifer morphed his pained grunt into a crazed laugh, barking and gasping like a madman in the street.
"A free… free massage," Seifer said, still choking and laughing. "This vacation has everything."
The officer straightened up, grinding his teeth. "You're damn lucky I recognize you, punk. You're only alive cause of me. You think the others wouldn't kill you if I let 'em? Huh? It's my word that keeps you alive, and if you wanna stay that way, you'll shut the hell up."
Seifer smiled, recovering his breath. "I didn't know I had fans in the military. Uncuff me and I'll give ya an autograph."
The officer ignored him, turning to face the soldiers who were restraining Seifer. "He's the one. Take him to command. All of you." The officer gestured to a cluster of at least two dozen soldiers. More than were necessary to escort a single prisoner.
(Not taking any chances.)
The soldiers pulled Seifer to his feet. He felt at least ten hands gripping his arms and shoulders as he was shoved into a shuffling walk into town, his stride shortened by the cuffs around his ankles. He looked around the soldiers to find out who had his gunblade, but he couldn't it see through the teeming mass of blue uniforms. Then he looked up to the ticket office where he'd last seen Fujin and Raijin. There was nothing there but empty sky.
(Don't give up, Fuge, Rage.)
Seifer had marched down the streets of Balamb as an orphan, as a Garden cadet, as leader of the Galbadian military, as an exile, and now, finally, as a prisoner. Though his every muscle ached, his face bled from multiple cuts, and his hair was a tangled blonde mess, he walked with the same pride he'd always had, as if he was the one leading the soldiers to the dock, rather than the other way around.
Out in the ocean, Seifer could see that the Galbadian ships had organized to form a large semi-circle around the bay of Balamb, completely cutting off sea access to the port town. Seifer's eyes narrowed.
(A blockade? The hell's going on here?)
Down at the docks, Galbadian soldiers swarmed. They unloaded supplies from docked ships, and processed a group of women who had apparently not passed the sorceress test. The women, like Seifer, were bound in handcuffs and sitting on crates, guarded by dozens of soldiers. Their broken, dejected faces were cast down to their feet.
Seifer's captors brought him down a pier that was almost empty. A single ship was docked at the end, and a Galbadian officer stood waiting, tapping his feet and watching the soldiers work from behind his visor. When he saw Seifer and the guards approach, he stepped forward.
"The hell are you doing?" the officer said. "We're only supposed to bring suspected sorceresses back. No men. Got it?"
(So that's what they're doin' with the girls who fail the test.)
(At least Fuge got away.)
One of the soldiers released his grip on Seifer and saluted. "Sir, he's Seifer Almasy, sir."
The officer was startled. "Oh. Well then, yeah, bring him aboard. Did you find any other targets?"
(Targets?)
"Nothing so far, sir," the soldier said.
"Yeah, I didn't think you would," the officer said. "Strap him to the deck, then go back to your duties. Hurry it up."
The soldier nodded. A ramp extended from the deck of the small ship down to the dock. The soldiers forced Seifer up the ramp and onto the deck. Lining the deck were about a dozen metal chairs facing forward, with iron restraints around the legs and the armrests. The soldiers pushed Seifer down into one of the chairs, then shoved his arm into one of the restraints, locking it around his wrist. They un-handcuffed him and wrestled his other arm into the second restraint. They repeated this process with his legs and ankles.
Once he was secured, the soldiers disembarked and returned to the docks. Bound as he was, Seifer couldn't turn his head back around to see Balamb, so he looked forward, watching the sea and examining at the Galbadian blockade.
After a few minutes of waiting, he heard footsteps climb onto the deck, then approach him. He turned as far as he could and saw a Galbadian officer coming towards him. The officer stopped a few paces away.
(All G-Soldiers look the same…)
"Seifer Almasy," the officer said, his arms crossed. Judging by his voice, he wasn't the officer from the train station or the one from the dock. "You know how many good soldiers died because of that crap you and the sorceress put us through? Do you know the cost of that completely useless war you started?"
"Do I know or do I care?" Seifer asked. He shook his head. "Nevermind. Answer's the same either way."
The officer scowled. "Bastard. The Headmaster has no sympathy for sorceresses, or their so-called 'knights.' You won't be so damn cheeky when he gets through with you."
(Headmaster?)
"Your day is coming, Almasy," the officer said. He stepped down from the ship, followed by Seifer's mocking laughter. When Seifer could no longer hear the officer's footsteps, he stopped laughing.
He looked down at his restraints. Although the grunts and the officers were morons, he had to admit that the military supplied them with decent equipment. The U-shaped metal bands had adjustable locks, tightened enough so that he couldn't squeeze his hand through. He might still be able to conjure a fire spell, but everything on the deck of the ship—the seats, the floor, the railings—were metal and wouldn't burn. None of the other spells in his stock would be much help either.
(Damn…)
He sat on the deck for at least an hour, feeling the waves gently rock the ship back and forth. His back began to ache from sitting in the hard chair. His wrists and ankles chafed in the restraints. His nose itched maddeningly, but he couldn't scratch it.
Through the din of shouted orders, insults, and general small talk, Seifer could pick up bits and pieces of what the soldiers were saying. He was especially interested in what they were doing with the women who had failed the sorceress test. He heard mention of bringing them south, but no clear destination was ever spoken. He twisted his head around to look, but could only manage this position for a few minutes at a time before his neck cramped.
In time, he learned that the women were tested several more times and interrogated. Those who passed the secondary tests were set free and brought back to the city with escorts. Those who failed repeatedly were brought to the deck of a much larger ship on a dock across from Seifer's.
Nearly a half dozen potential sorceresses had been brought from the docks up onto this ship before Seifer heard footsteps on his own boat. Soldiers entered into a hatch in the back of the ship, and soon the engines sputtered to life. The dull vibrations coursed through his body, relaxing his sore muscles. The soldiers unmoored the ship from the dock and sped out to sea.
Out of curiosity, Seifer twisted himself into the uncomfortable backwards-facing position again to watch as Balamb faded into the distance. He was surprised to see that the soldiers were now all swarming on one spot. A second later, screams emanated from the docks. In the distance, Seifer could just barely see Fujin's blue clothes and Raijin's dark skin, as they fought their way through the flood of soldiers, mounting a desperate rescue attempt. He could see, in Fujin's hand, the testing device they'd stolen from the officer. In Raijin's free hand was Seifer's gunblade.
Seifer smiled.
(Keep fightin', guys.)
He knew they didn't stand a chance of freeing him. Already he was almost to the blockade, and even if Fujin and Raijin managed to steal a ship, they'd never be able to catch up with him. It was okay though. Seifer had never needed to be rescued before, and this time was no different. His only concern was for Fujin and Raijin. How would they escape now?
Soon the docks were too far away to make out any details. The whole of Balamb faded into one bluish-gray mass nestled in the green fields of the continent. The ship passed through the blockade and continued out to the ocean, the tiny transport ship dwarfed by the Galbadian warships. Seifer turned and faced forward, to watch where they were going.
For several minutes, there was nothing but the endless ocean and Seifer's thoughts. Then a large dot became visible on the horizon, growing larger and larger by the second. Seifer squinted his eyes to see what it was through the glare of the fading sunlight. When he saw what it was, he snorted.
"Well, didn't think I'd see them again," he said.
There, in the ocean, was the hulking red mass of Galbadia Garden.