Chapter 60

Future Bound (Part 2)

(Irvine, Quistis, Seifer, Squall)

(Irvine)

(One month after)

Despite all the work that he, Selphie, and the Trabia Garden students had put into repairing the city, Fisherman's Horizon didn't look much better than it had when they first started. Of course, Irvine knew that he was probably biased. To him, the city had always been a giant junk heap in the middle of the ocean—even back when it was at its peak. And it still was, as far as Irvine was concerned.

(Aw, well.)

(The citizens seem happy about it.)

(So I guess that's all that matters.)

And the citizens were undoubtedly happier. Irvine could see it in their faces as he walked by, hear it in their voices as he worked alongside them, and sense it in their moods as the city gradually became restored. For some reason Irvine couldn't understand, the people of FH seemed oddly proud of their giant rust bucket. Meanwhile, he could only shrug and keep working, content in the knowledge that some things were just beyond his understanding.

Initially, FH had been reluctant to have any further dealings with SeeD—even an auxiliary branch of SeeD, like Trabia Garden—and had at first spurned Selphie's offer of aid. But once again, Selphie had refused to leave. She picked up whatever tools she could find and began hauling scrap metal out of the junkyards, salvaging broken silos and damaged boats, and overseeing construction projects. Whether the citizens wanted her help or not, they were getting it, and eventually they had to admit that it was easier to work with her than to fight against her.

(A lesson I had to learn the hard way myself.)

Once the city of FH began integrating her into the repair project, things began to run smoother. Irvine and Selphie no longer got unpleasant glares from the locals and in fact were gradually being accepted as members of the community. Technically, both he and Selphie were ambassadors to Trabia Garden and had no official business in FH, but Selphie insisted that she and Irvine were ambassadors for SeeD in general, and therefore had an obligation to help anyone who wasn't actively fighting against SeeD. Irvine wasn't so sure about that, but he—like the citizens of FH—knew it was probably best not to argue with Selphie.

And it wasn't as if Selphie was neglecting her duties to Trabia Garden. Augmented by both her Guardian Force and her sorceress powers, Selphie could easily divide her time, working half the day on repairing Trabia Garden and the other half working on FH. She made Irvine, the T-Garden students, and the citizens of FH look downright lazy by comparison.

Originally, everyone thought that Selphie should devote herself to one project or another—either spend all day working on T-Garden or all day working in FH—but that wasn't her style. She liked to solve problems as she noticed them, then move on to something else. Over the course of a day, she would randomly wander from T-Garden to FH, circle around, and end up back in T-Garden, leaving a trail of finished projects in her wake, like footage of a tornado in played reverse.

The integration of T-Garden and FH had unintended benefits for both sides as well. Grateful for the extra aid, FH citizens opened up their doors to allow the T-Garden students to spend the nights sleeping in their guest bedrooms or on the couches, and given breakfasts and dinners from the family tables. It didn't seem glamorous, but considering the fact that the students were accustomed to sleeping in tents and eating bean rations three meals a day, it was practically a vacation for them. In exchange for food and beds, FH got a cadre of hardworking, able-bodied students who possessed a surprising amount of mechanical aptitude. Everyone prospered.

Within a few weeks, there was no longer a division between FH and T-Garden. Students from the Garden could be found across town, putting the roof back on an inn while citizens of FH would be down at the docks, welding sheets of metal together to rebuild T-Garden. The school and the city had become one large community.

(It's kinda sweet, actually.)

Irvine put his hands in his pockets and stalked along the railroad tracks, clearing off debris with his foot. He found a large metal bolt laying on the tracks and kicked it off into the ocean.

"Hey, hey, hey!" a nearby FH citizen said, waving a wrench. "That was still good! Don't waste materials!"

"It was all rusty and bent," Irvine said with a shrug. "Total garbage."

"We'll decide what's garbage and what's not," the citizen said. "Pick it up and put it in a pile."

Irvine shrugged and sighed. He continued on down the track, but now every time he found debris—no matter how useless or insignificant it appeared, he picked it up and shoved it into one of his pockets. Whenever he came by a pile of reclaimed junk—and there was a pile like that every couple hundred paces along the track—he would empty his pockets and continue on.

Technically, his shift was done for the day and he was free to do whatever he wanted, but Selphie's inhuman amount of energy had begun to make him feel guilty, and he increasingly found himself working after hours on small projects like this, just to avoid being embarrassed.

(Even if I worked all day every day, she'd still get more done than me.)

He continued walking into the late afternoon sun, letting his mind wander as he gathered junk off the tracks.

His boots clacked along a long sheet of metal that had been welded to the bridge to span a gap blown open by the Galbadian missiles. The metal sheet was about as thick as Irvine's hand and covered a distance of about a half dozen steps. He could feel the metal bow under his weight as he passed. He looked down at it and grimaced. Despite the weakness of the metal, the people of FH had gone ahead and attached more train tracks across it, to ensure that there were no gaps in the tracks from Esthar to Timber.

(This ain't secure enough.)

He looked up and lifted the brim of his hat away from his eyes. He found a nearby worker.

"Hey," he said. The worker looked up. "Is this track strong enough? It can barely support me. How's it gonna hold up a whole train?"
The worker waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry. It'll hold."

"It's gonna break," Irvine said. He jumped up and down on the metal sheet, making it bend and wobble. "Look!"

"It's fine. You'll see," the worker said. Disinterested, the worker resumed his work and turned away from Irvine.

"I'll see a damn massacre when a train derails is what I'll see," Irvine mumbled. He shoved his hands in his pockets and continued down the track. He had learned a long time ago that he was somewhere near the very bottom in the unofficial hierarchy of FH and T-Garden. There were children running around FH who had more authority than him. Pretty much everyone knew that Selphie was the actual ambassador and Irvine was basically a tagalong, and they seemed to hold this fact against him. Like he wasn't committed enough to either T-Garden or FH and therefore not worthy of respect. It frustrated him, but he did his best to swallow his pride and keep working.

When he got to the end of the track—the point where the high breakwater walls ended—he sighed, looked at the sun, and then turned around. He continued searching the tracks for spare bits of debris, but this time on the opposite side of the bridge.

(This whole city is nothing but chunks of garbage.)

But, garbage or not, he had to admit it was peaceful. Living in FH had been the longest sustained nonviolent stretch he'd had since he left Galbadia Garden. There were no monsters to fight, no enemies looming on the horizon, no battle plans that needed to be drawn up. Life in up north in T-Garden had been peaceful as well—before Martine had come with G-Garden, claiming that Rinoa was leading a rebellion in Timber—but even they had to contend with an occasional monster attack. Here, it was almost like another planet. Irvine didn't even bring his shotgun out of his room anymore. There was just no need for it.

(Guess it ain't so bad here.)

It was nice, not having to worry about any upcoming wars. Irvine and the Selphie kept in touch with SeeD via radio and he knew that if things got bad they would be called in to help, but there seemed to be an unspoken agreement that if times got rough in Galbadia or anywhere else, the main division of SeeD would handle it first, leaving Irvine and the others to continue their peaceful life undisturbed.

It was also nice not having to worry about winter approaching. It had already been agreed that T-Garden would spend the winter in FH, where the season meant nothing more than a few additional rain showers and the occasional chilly stretch—hardly the fatal winters that buried Trabia in ice and snow for months at a time.

But the good times wouldn't last. With T-Garden's help, the repairs in FH were ahead of schedule. T-Garden was already taking shape as well. Barring disaster, everyone expected to be done with the majority of the work by the time winter was over. After that, there would be no more reason for T-Garden to stay. Even though Trabia Garden hadn't fought a single battle since the conflict between Esthar and Galbadia, they were still a part of the larger SeeD organization, and their views and their methods for dealing with violence fundamentally differed from FH's. Overstaying their welcome would only cause problems for both sides.

Despite the peace and the quiet, Irvine found himself feeling the same way he felt after a vacation that had gone on for too long. He still appreciated the simple living, the atmosphere, and the friendly people in FH, but he could feel his enjoyment diminishing day by day. He had already begun to wonder if he could even make it all the way through winter without growing absolutely sick of the place.

Not that he wanted to plunge headfirst back into a life of conflict and death. But he found himself longing for things from SeeD and Garden. He wanted to practice magic again. He wanted to fire his shotgun. Since the people of FH refused to waste even tin cans and bottles, he couldn't go out for basic target practice, unless he decided to shoot birds, but he had the feeling that the people of FH would frown on that as well. He could feel his skills and his combat instincts softening in all the peace and warm air.

(I think I'm the only one who's lookin' forward to leavin'.)

Students in T-Garden were already making plans for what they would do when spring broke and the Garden could once again return to its home soil. Most people—encouraged by Selphie—were talking about throwing a big welcome home festival to honor Trabia's triumphant return. Irvine thought the idea was amusing, and he would occasionally help Selphie with drawing up the plans. But she mostly wanted to work on them herself. It was her Garden after all, her home. Not his.

It was nice when Selphie worked on projects for the future. When she thought about what she was going to do after this, or after that. Though she tried to hide it under her cheerful face, Irvine could see when memories of the past slipped across her mind. When she remembered how she hadn't been there to help Tomomi, or the rest of T-Garden, or FH. Selphie never spoke of it, but Irvine could tell that she wondered about it. Wondered how many lives she could have saved. What would have gone differently if she hadn't been in Esthar at the time.

(But we'll never know the answers to that.)

After a while, Irvine got back to the eastern side of the city, where Trabia Garden was parked—like a massive circular addition to the outside of the town. It rested between two empty silos. A network of floating platforms had been built around the school so that students could more easily get around and work on the exterior bits.

Progress in T-Garden was slow, but more aesthetically pleasing than it was in FH. While the citizens of FH were happy to patch up their broken town with whatever bits of junk and scrap they could salvage, the students at T-Garden took much more pride in their work. They only used special materials shipped to them from Esthar and Timber and Balamb. Of course, that meant that they were always short on materials. After all, FH had far more junk than it had anything else. But the students were in no great hurry to repair their school. The consensus seemed to be that it was better to fix up the school right than to fix it up quickly.

(And I have to agree on that one.)

Balamb Garden was helping to foot the bill for the expensive parts T-Garden needed, but sometimes—due to budget concerns and worries about the future of the Galbadian continent—the money didn't come as regularly as Irvine would have liked.

Irvine stood atop the Horizon Bridge and looked down at T-Garden. The students had managed to do quite a lot today. The broken scrap left behind from the missile attacks had all been cleared out long ago—and donated to FH so that they could mend their city. The floors had been ripped up, which made them ugly for a time, but it was necessary so that the students could rebuild the foundations. From there, the students continued building and building, working together quite well, despite the fact that they—like FH—had no official leader. Selphie took point a lot of the time, but she had no experience with construction, so she acted more as moral support than an actual foreman.

Originally, the plan was to rebuild T-Garden exactly as it had been, brick-for-brick. The students had even worked together to draw up a perfect blueprint of what the school used to look like. But then it became apparent that the pieces needed to rebuild the school either didn't exist anymore or were impossibly expensive. After all, the school had originally been built by the Centra, long before any of the students had been born. Esthar was the only place that still produced materials similar to the ones that T-Garden needed, but even then it was difficult to get them.

Therefore a change of plans was necessary. A new design was drawn up, voted on, and approved by the majority of the students. The new plan was to try to compensate for T-Garden's relatively small size. The circumference of the base disk was only about two-thirds the size of Galbadia Garden or Balamb Garden, making T-Garden by far the smallest of the three schools. But the students realized that if they built the school vertically, they could still have almost the same amount of floor area as their sister schools, just arranged differently.

The new plan was for a cylindrical school, with as much space used as possible. No cavernous open areas like in the middle of Balamb Garden or G-Garden. T-Garden was going to be a masterpiece of efficiency, with all the available space being used somehow to improve the school or provide functionality. It wouldn't be impressive or awe-inspiring, but it would work.

Irvine and Selphie had sent along copies of the new blueprints to Headmaster Cid, who approved the changes. It seemed that—quite accidentally—T-Garden was sliding perfectly into the role that SeeD's administration was considering for it.

Headmaster Cid's new idea was to unify the three Gardens and have them each specialize in different areas. Balamb Garden would continue to train with Guardian Forces and magic, focusing heavily on those elements. Galbadia Garden—now fully under control of SeeD and no longer jointly held by Esthar—would focus on mechanical developments and technology. And Trabia Garden would focus primarily on education and outreach, becoming the interface between SeeD and the rest of the world.

Once, it had been Headmaster Cid's dream to one day make SeeD into a peaceful organization, but it was clear that SeeD's military strength was going to be necessary for the foreseeable future. With conflict still raging in the Galbadian continent and other small problems cropping up around the world as nations struggled to find their places, SeeD couldn't afford to scale back on its might.

Instead, SeeD was consolidating its power, drawing together the three Gardens into one unified force. No longer would Balamb Garden be the exclusive home of SeeDs. Instead, the process to become a SeeD would require training in all three Gardens.

Starting in a few years, students who wished to become SeeDs would have to first train in Trabia Garden, learning math, history, science, and other basic subjects before moving to Galbadia Garden where they would learn physical combat and mechanical skills. They would end their training in Balamb Garden, mastering control of the powers of Guardian Forces and magic. Only after completing their training in all three schools would a person be called a "SeeD."

Irvine had to admit, it seemed like a good plan. By spreading out the training, it prevented any one school from having a monopoly of power over the others. Granted, Balamb Garden would still be the strongest of the three, but since that is where the Headmaster and the SeeD Commander were stationed, it made sense for that to be the seat of power in the organization.

Additionally, the longer training cycle meant that students like Seifer were less likely to advance in the system. Children who had attitude problems or who showed insubordinate tendencies could be cut out of the school long before they learned how to fight, or how to cast magic and junction. It seemed like the plan would work well for everyone. SeeD wouldn't have to contend with unruly students and could enforce much higher standards of behavior and performance, and the rest of the world didn't have to worry about an army of disgruntled SeeD dropouts flooding the streets.

(And people like Mireya will be weeded out before they can start a rebellion.)

For the first time in a while, Irvine looked forward to the future with hope. He knew that one day Ultimecia would return. He also knew that times of peace would never—and could never—last forever. War was inevitable. But for now, things were quiet and seemed to be moving in the right direction. He couldn't complain.

"Heya, Irv!" Selphie said. Irvine jumped. "Whatcha thinkin' about?"

Irvine coughed, then adjusted his hat, which had been knocked askew when he jumped. Selphie climbed up the steps from Trabia Garden and joined him on the side of the Horizon Bridge.

"Er, nothing," Irvine said. "Just thinkin' about the future."

Selphie nodded and smiled. "It's gonna be good. Trabia's gonna be better than ever."

"Course it will," Irvine said.

From behind Selphie, Ciel stepped out and stood alongside Selphie. She nodded at Irvine and he nodded back.

Ciel had arrived in FH a couple of days after Trabia Garden. Initially, she had run away when she saw Irvine and Selphie, but they managed to chase her down and convince her that they weren't going to hurt her. Once they had regained her trust, they sat down and talked.

After Rinoa had jumped out of the Ragnarok, the Esthar pilot had woken up from the sleep spell and captured Ciel. Not that she had put up much of a fight. She had become indifferent to everything and allowed herself to be taken. The pilot then turned around and headed back for Esthar.

By the time they returned, Rinoa had already stopped the G-Army and destroyed the Lunatic Pandora. Ciel was brought into a separate room for questioning, but due to an error in paperwork or something, the Esthar government had forgotten her existence for nearly a week.

It wasn't until Rinoa—while talking to President Laguna—had made an off-hand comment, asking about what had happened to Ciel, that the Esthar government remembered about her and took action. Rinoa told Laguna that Ciel wasn't a sorceress anymore—and likely wasn't a threat. Laguna took her word for it and, after a bit of debate, had decided not to punish Ciel any further. Any crimes she had committed were forgiven, and she was released into the streets of Esthar.

There she spent a few days wandering, trying to sort out her life. As her funds dwindled, she got bored and rented a car and drove around, eventually turning west and heading for FH, using the makeshift roads that Galbadia had created to work her way through the mountains. The car ran out of fuel in FH, and while looking for a gas station, Ciel had run into Irvine and Selphie.

Originally, Ciel was planning to go back to Timber, but as she related her story to Irvine and Selphie, she gradually changed her mind. She decided that she didn't want to go home to Timber anymore. After everything she had done, she doubted that she would be welcome there. And in any case, most everyone she cared about—her brother, her best friend—was dead, so it wasn't like she had anything to go home to.

Eagerly, Selphie recruited her to help out with the joint FH and Trabia Garden restoration projects, where Ciel had remained ever since. The car Ciel had driven into town with vanished a few days later. It was assumed that someone had taken it apart and used it for scrap metal.

"How's work comin' along?" Irvine asked.

"Stopped for the day," Selphie said. "The piece we need to finish the quad didn't come in yet, and we can't do anything without it so we gotta sit tight until Esthar's next shipment comes in. It's lame. I was hopin' to get the quad done today."

"It's alright, Selphie," Irvine said. "It'll be done before you know it."

"I want it done now," Selphie said. "The blueprint we drew up is so cool! It'll look great when it's finished!"

"The train didn't come by yet, did it?" Ciel asked, looking back and forth along the Horizon Bridge.

Irvine shook his head. "Nope. I've been on the bridge almost all day. Nothing's come through."

Selphie frowned. "It's late. It was supposed to be here by now." She frowned at the eastern horizon. Then her eyes went wide. "Wait! There's something I gotta go get from my room! I'll be back!"

With that, Selphie turned and dashed along the railroad tracks. She ran down a flight of metal steps and vanished in the direction of T-Garden.

Ciel turned to Irvine, looking up at him from her short frame. She had changed a lot in the past few weeks. When she had first arrived in FH, she was sullen and quiet. She spoke only in short sentences and rarely made eye contact. But over the past few days, she had begun to open up. Even though this girl had killed Rinoa's father and led a nearly suicidal campaign against the whole Galbadian military, Irvine found himself liking her more and more. She was easy to talk to. And she, like Irvine, was an outsider—neither a citizen of FH nor a student at T-Garden. They were united in their foreignness.

(And she ain't bad-lookin' either.)

"So, do you still hate us?" Irvine asked.

Ciel frowned. "You and Selphie?"

"No, no," Irvine said. He shook his head. "SeeD. The Gardens. Do you still hate us? Last I heard, y'all were kinda swearin' vengeance on us. Least that's what Squall said."

Ciel looked away. She sighed. "I dunno. I don't think I ever really hated you. I think I was just mad. Wanted someone to blame for everything that happened."

"I can understand that," Irvine said.

Ciel smiled a little. A pleasant, honest little smile. "Yeah." She turned and stared at the steps that Selphie had used to go down to her room. After a moment, Ciel asked, "So what's the deal with you and Selphie?"

"The deal?" Irvine asked.

Alarm bells rang in his head. For the past few days he had been getting a different vibe from Ciel. She seemed to hang around him more, make eye contact more frequently. Her voice seemed to have changed and she talked about different things—more personal things—with him.

Irvine wasn't sure what he wanted to do, if he wanted to encourage these changes or deny them, so—in his indecision—he busied himself in his work and spent more time alone. If Ciel wanted to talk to him, he was available, but he wasn't exactly throwing himself at her. He realized that he was playing a game of hard-to-get without being sure if he wanted to get got.

It was confusing for him. Usually he was sure of what he wanted from other people, especially women. But with Ciel, he had no idea.

(And now here we are.)

"Are you dating or something?" Ciel asked. "Sometimes you act like a couple, and sometimes you don't."

"Eh. That's basically it," Irvine said. "Sometimes we are a couple and sometimes we aren't."

Ciel turned to face him. "You two fight a lot?"

"No, not really," Irvine said. "But I think…"

He paused.

(What do I think?)

"I guess a lot's happened lately," Irvine said. "Selphie isn't really thinking about relationships right now."

A small grin spread across Ciel's face, growing wider and wider. After a few seconds, she began laughing. "So she shot you down, eh?"

"What?" Irvine said. "No! That's not…"

"I see that lost puppy look you get in your eyes when she's got her back turned," Ciel said. "I know how you really feel. And just so you know, I don't really see that same look in Selphie's eyes. She doesn't think of you that way."

(She doesn't?)

Irvine swallowed, then shook his head. No, Ciel had to be wrong. She had only been around a few weeks—not long enough to get a clear picture of the situation. Sometimes Selphie acted interested and sometimes she didn't. But that was the way it was with her; she was easily distracted. She moved from one thought to the next like a bee in a field of flowers. Irvine couldn't expect her to focus on him all the time. It just wasn't her nature to do that.

That was part of the reason he was drawn to her. She wasn't serious all the time or playful all the time. She was like several women all rolled up into one. He couldn't ask her to change for him, to make herself more available to him, because that's what he liked about her. And those times when her thoughts turned to him, when she momentarily forgot about T-Garden or the past or the future, in those moments Irvine felt a deeper connection with her than he had ever felt with anyone else.

(I know I love her.)

But those moments would pass, and she would go back to burying herself in her tasks, cheering up everyone, supporting T-Garden, building FH, and ignoring Irvine. It wasn't that she was cold or unfriendly to him during those times; it was more like he had to force himself into her presence more often. In those moments when she was connected to him, she would invite him along with her wherever she was going. When she wasn't connected, he had to invite himself. It was a subtle difference, and Irvine thought that he was probably the only one who noticed it.

(I know I love her.)

(But I wonder if she loves me back.)

There was no one in the world like Selphie. He'd always known it and he still knew it now. And for a long time he had thought that as long as he was with Selphie, he would be happy. But now he had been put in a situation where he had to put that theory to the test. He was far away from home and everything that was comfortable to him. FH's pacifist lifestyle was pleasant, but grating to him. And T-Garden was nice, but the students there had formed such a tight bond after all their tragedies, that Irvine couldn't help but feel like an outsider when he was with them.

The only person Irvine felt attached to—and the only reason he stayed in FH—was Selphie. And he wondered if she felt the same way. If Irvine left FH, decided to pack up and head back to Garden or go help G-Garden with their repairs, would Selphie follow? He doubted it.

(Maybe I'm askin' for too much.)

(It ain't like I can just have her drop everything and come with me wherever I go.)

But hadn't Irvine done that for her? Dropped his former life in G-Garden, left behind SeeD, and gone with her on her mission to help her former school? Sometimes he wondered if he was being unfair to Selphie. And sometimes he wondered if she was unfair to him.

"It…" Irvine said. He cleared his throat. "It ain't so simple."

"How long have you been hounding her?" Ciel asked. "And she still hasn't given you a straight answer? I mean, isn't that kinda an answer in itself? She's obviously not interested, dude. Why waste your time?"

"I aint' wastin' my time," Irvine snapped. Time spent with Selphie never felt wasted, even if she was ignoring him.

But he had to admit, a firm answer would have been nice. Even if it was "no," then at least he could move on with his life. Find someone else. Pursue his own dreams.

"If it makes you feel better," Ciel said, "I don't think Selphie's interested in anyone right now. I mean, it's not like I see her makin' eyes at anyone else. I think she's just off in her own world all the time. Too busy for boys or anything else."

"You don't know her," Irvine said.

Irvine had spent months trying to get a solid read on Selphie, and he felt vaguely insulted that Ciel thought that she could come along and have the whole situation figured out in a couple of weeks.

But another part of him was worried that she had indeed figured it all out. That maybe Irvine had been thinking too hard about the situation and had overlooked the obvious. Something so obvious that anyone other than Irvine could see it.

Ciel shrugged. "Maybe not. She's a bit tough to read sometimes. But you're a little bit easier to figure out."

"I am?" Irvine asked.

"Yeah," Ciel said. "And if you ever get tired of chasing after something you can't get, then I can think of a better use for your time."

She met and held his gaze. He couldn't deny that she was cute. Not really his type, but then again, Irvine's "type" was pretty broad and he was willing to make exceptions.

(I dunno…)

"I'll think about it," Irvine said.

"Hm. You don't seem like the thinkin' type," Ciel said.

Irvine frowned at her, a little annoyed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

But before Ciel could answer him, Selphie bounded up the steps, waving a small object in her hand. She rushed up to the pair and held it out.

"Got it!" Selphie said. Irvine looked down and squinted at the device. It was an old instant camera, the kind that immediately dispensed a single photo after taking the shot.

"Where'd you get that?" Irvine asked.

"Guy in FH traded it to me," Selphie said. "I got some candy from Esthar's last shipment and he wanted some."

"He traded a camera for candy?" Irvine asked. "Sounds like you robbed him, Selph."

"Oh, well," Selphie said. "His loss. Smile!"

She held the camera up to her face and snapped a picture. A bright flash stunned Irvine for a moment, then he blinked.

(Damn, I wasn't ready.)

"You didn't give me a chance to smile," Irvine said, rubbing his eyes.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Selphie said. She removed the small photograph from the front of the camera and waved it back and forth vigorously. The photo made a wobbling sound as she flailed it around.

"You're gonna bend it, Selph," Irvine said.

"No, this makes it develop faster," Selphie said. She stuck her tongue out between her lips and doubled her pace, creating a small breeze as she fanned the photo. Ciel gave Irvine a sidelong smirk. He wasn't sure if Ciel was laughing with or laughing at Selphie's antics, but he smiled back anyway.

After a few seconds, Selphie wiped her brow with the back of her hand and looked at the photo.

"See? All done!" she said, turning the photo around. Irvine and Ciel leaned forward and looked.

Inside the small white square was Irvine and Ciel, almost perfectly centered. Behind them was the ocean, gentle waves rippling across its surface. The late afternoon sun reflected orange off the water. Irvine hadn't had a chance to smile, but his eyes gazed directly into the camera, a glint of humor in his expression. Ciel stood beside him, looking up at him—not the camera—and smiling warmly. The photo looked like something taken during a romantic getaway.

(We look like a couple.)

Ciel saw it too. She glanced knowingly at Irvine, but didn't say anything. Selphie, oblivious to it all, tucked the picture into the front pocket of her dress.

"I'm gonna keep this one in my room," Selphie said. "I'm gonna start a collage of photos and cover the whole wall with 'em. So is the train here yet?"

Irvine was about to tell her that he hadn't seen anything yet, but Selphie spun around gasped with delight.

"There it is!" Selphie said, pointing to the east. She jumped up and down on her toes. Irvine turned to look and, sure enough, he could see a small dot approaching along the bridge.

"I'll be damned," Irvine said. He scratched his head under the brim of his hat. "Good timing."

"Isn't this great?" Selphie asked. "The first train from Esthar to Timber in two decades! This is history, Irvy! HISTORY!"

"Since when do y'all get excited about history?" Irvine asked.

"When it's train history, of course!" Selphie said. "Now, we gotta get off the tracks. There's a cool spot a little ways down where we can get some good shots."

Selphie turned and dashed off, leaving Irvine and Ciel behind.

"Wait," Irvine said. "You're gonna take pictures of a moving train with that ancient camera? It'll come out all blurry!"

But Selphie wasn't listening. She scampered off to a nearby building, then vaulted atop a rusty barrel and climbed to the rickety roof and looked down on the tracks. Irvine sighed, shrugged, and then followed after her. He helped hoist Ciel on top of the roof, then climbed up himself.

He had to admit, the view was rather nice. From his vantage point, he could see almost the whole city stretched out before him. It was still a dump, but it had a certain charm to it, he supposed. The way the setting sun reflected off the buildings helped to hide the rust.

"It's coming!" Selphie said. She held the camera up to her face again, even though the train was still far away. She held her pose, lining up the shot, while they all waited in silence for the train to arrive. When the train was a short distance outside the city, Irvine heard its brakes squeal as it slowed down to enter the city limits. It blew its horn three times, then rumbled past Irvine at a sprinting pace.

Selphie immediately fired off a shot from her camera, then pulled out the photo and handed it to Irvine. Irvine glanced down at the blank photo as it slowly developed. Selphie picked up the camera and took another shot, then another, and tucked both of those pictures into her pocket. She handed her camera to Ciel.

"Keep taking pictures till you run out!" Selphie said.

"You got tired of the camera already?" Irvine asked.

"No," Selphie said. "But it'll get in my way when I'm riding the train."

(Riding the train?)

Irvine narrowed his eyes. "Selphie, the train isn't stopping here. It's gonna—"

Before he finished, Selphie had already jumped, landing down hard on the roof of one of the train cars, stumbling but managing to keep her balance.

"WOO HOO!" Selphie shouted as she raced off to the west.

As instructed, Ciel raised the camera to her eyes and took shot after shot until the camera ran out of film a dozen or so pictures later. By then the train was a long dash mark on the outskirts of the city. Ciel lowered the camera and stuffed all the pictures into one of her pockets.

"Is she gonna ride it all the way to Timber?" Ciel asked.

Irvine shook his head. "Hell if I know."

The two of them watched the train as it faded in the distance. He heard a distant sound echo across the waves. At first, he thought that the train had blown its whistle again, but then he realized that Selphie was letting out one long, continuous whoop as she rode the train into the horizon.

He looked down at the very first picture Selphie had taken of the train. It had finally developed, and—as Irvine had predicted—the train was blurry and hardly recognizable. Just a long blue smear across the center of the photograph, with the ocean behind it and the rusty train tracks beneath it.

(Figures.)

(Quistis)

(Five weeks after)

"I don't agree with this," Xu said. "Quistis, you have to reconsider."

"If you can think of a good reason why we shouldn't accept the contract," Quistis said, "Then tell me, and I will reconsider."

"One good reason?" Xu said. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "I can think of a dozen."

Quistis rested her elbows on the large, circular wooden desk. To her right sat Headmaster Cid, then Nida, Zell, Xu, and finally Ami—seated at Quistis' left. Cid wore his usual white shirt under a red sweater vest while the rest all wore their SeeD uniforms. As part of a new rule established a week and a half ago, all the SeeDs at the table wore symbols denoting their ranks and positions on their right shoulders. Quistis' shoulder bore a "C," marking her as Commander. Xu had an "LC" on her shoulder. Nida had a "P" for "Pilot," and Zell had an "A" rank, which meant that he was the highest rank a SeeD could achieve without becoming a Commander or taking a leadership position. Ami, having graduated a month prior, was a twelfth-ranked SeeD, and her arm was marked with a "12."

They were all sitting at a table in the back of Cid's office, behind the bridge in a small section that had been informally designated as the meeting room. The contractors had finally finished all the repairs on the school, and the fresh glass ceiling sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. The marble floors shone under the light and the room still smelled of fresh paint.

Nida, Zell, and Ami did not have any official authority and could not decide policy in SeeD, but were always invited to come to these meetings to offer their perspectives. Squall, Rinoa, Irvine, and Selphie had standing invitations to attend SeeD meetings—if and when they ever came back to Garden.

"Let me start with the most obvious reason," Xu said. "The Timber-Dollet Alliance will stop backing us if we support Galbadia in any way. They aren't paying us so that we can turn around and help their enemies. We can't play both sides like that."

"It isn't playing both sides," Quistis said. "The fighting won't stop with just Galbadia. If Deling City falls to insurgents, it will destabilize the whole region. Timber and Dollet will get drawn into the fighting eventually. It's in their best interests that we help protect Galbadia."

"You don't know that for sure," Xu said. "We've heard nothing but threats so far—and that's all we've ever heard for over a month now. Threats and no action. And even if you're right and the insurgents do follow through on their promises and start a war, by the time they finished fighting through their own government, they'll be significantly weakened. But if you help the Galbadians and then they go back on their promises and start a war anyway, they'll be that much stronger because of our aid. Personally, I expect Galbadia to break their promises, and I don't want to help them when the only thing we have to go on is their solemn word that they'll remain peaceful. It isn't enough."

Quistis sighed. Part of the reason she had appointed Xu to the position of Lieutenant Commander—against Xu's wishes—was because she was smart and level-headed under pressure. But once Xu had taken the position, she found herself arguing with her more often.

(Is she harder to deal with because she's a Lieutenant Commander now?)

(Or have I become less willing to accept her advice?)

"Headmaster?" Quistis said, turning to Cid. Cid leaned forward, cleared his throat, and pushed his glasses up on his nose.

"Well, as always, Quistis," he said with a wave of his hand, "The final decision rests with you. I can't make your choice for you."

"I know," Quistis said.

"In light of that," Cid said, "I want to point out that this is the first time anyone in Galbadia has offered us a contract since the joint operation to assassinate Edea over two months ago. The situation over there must be getting rather dire if they would break two months' worth of silence to contact us now. They must be desperate."

"If they're desperate," Xu said, "That means the worst is almost over. We've already chopped off the infected leg; now we just need to cauterize the wound and wait for it to heal."

Quistis grimaced. "Pleasant metaphor, Xu."

"My point still stands," Xu said. "It doesn't matter how much money Galbadia offers us, it isn't worth it. Timber-Dollet will cancel their contract with us, we'll get sucked into a quagmire in Galbadia, and a lot of SeeD lives will be put at risk helping a country that tried to destroy us a month ago—and will probably try to destroy us again when they get a chance."

"Martine tried to destroy us," Quistis said. "General Vaschel has been relatively accommodating, as far as Galbadian leaders go. Even Vinzer Deling, despite all his flaws, was rather indifferent to our existence. We can't judge all of Galbadia based on one crazed President."

(And he certainly is "crazed.")

After being captured by SeeD, Martine had been promptly handed over to the Esthar military along with all the other captured G-Soldiers. It had taken less than five minutes of interrogation before Martine had completely broken, revealing everything he knew about Galbadia, their military, and their strength and capabilities.

It was obvious now that Martine was a man ruled by fear—fear of the sorceresses and fear of Esthar. He explained that he had attacked Esthar because he had genuinely believed that the Sorceress Adel still ruled the city and was creating an army of sorceresses—including Ciel and Rinoa—in a bid to wipe out Galbadia.

Quistis couldn't help but feel sorry for him, as if he was a frightened animal caught in a trap, snarling and biting at anyone who approached. Granted, she was a long way away from forgiving him for all he had done, but she felt like she was closer to understanding who he was and what motivated him.

Also, in the weeks following his capture, Martine had become a reliable source of information against Galbadia—information that was vital in SeeD's overall policymaking. It was surprising that Martine was so willing to turn on his own country like that, but then it seemed like Martine didn't have many loyalties except to himself.

(And to think, I once respected him.)

Zell raised his hand and leaned forward, so that everyone at the table could see that he wanted to speak. Quistis nodded at him and he put his hand down.

"I… uh, I gotta agree with Xu on this one," Zell said. "If the Timber-Dollet Alliance finds out that we're helpin' Galbadia—"

"Of course they'll find out," Quistis said. "I've no intention of making this a secret. We will go into Deling City in our SeeD uniforms in broad daylight and we will help protect the Galbadian government from insurgents. I've read and reread out contract with Timber-Dollet, and nowhere does it state that we aren't allowed to accept commissions from other nations. In fact, when he wrote up the contract, Squall even made a point of ensuring that it was clear that we most likely would take other jobs—perhaps even ones that would conflict with Timber-Dollet's interests. He knew that a situation like this might arise, and he has prepared us for it."

She was perhaps giving Squall a little too much credit. Headmaster Cid was still the primary contract writer for Garden, and even though Squall was the one who had agreed to the assignment, the Headmaster was the one who made the official documents. Cid had a better head for legalese and more experience in that area.

"But don't you think that's a pretty underhanded thing to do, Quistis?" Xu asked. "Granted, it's not officially spelled out in the contract, but everyone knows that we're working with Timber-Dollet to protect them from the Galbadians. If we turn around and then help the Galbadians, that's basically playing both sides, isn't it?"

(She keeps saying that phrase…)

Quistis wouldn't be budged. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "There's no conflict of interest here. We can defend Timber-Dollet from Galbadia, and at the same time we can defend Galbadia from the malcontents within their borders. As long as Galbadia doesn't attack Timber or Dollet, there's no problem."

Xu scoffed. She said, "As long as Galbadia doesn't attack Timber or Dollet," in a slightly mocking tone. Quistis frowned. If it had been anyone else other than Xu who had taken that tone, she would have written them up for insubordination.

"Yeah," Xu said, dropping the mocking tone. "As long as wasps don't sting and mosquitoes don't bite. It's Galbadia's nature to try to attack its neighbors. The question isn't 'if' but 'when.' I guarantee you, as soon as Galbadia is back on its feet again, they'll attack. They'll want to put Timber back under their thumb and they'll want to suck up the land that Dollet recovered. There will be outright war in a month or two all over the Galbadian continent, and we'll be the ones who helped start it. It's best to let this situation run its course and allow the government to stand or fall under its own power. We shouldn't get involved."

Quistis shook her head. "Is anyone going to support me on this?"

Headmaster Cid crossed his arms. "You have neither my support nor my disapproval. I remain neutral in this."

(Thanks…)

"I don't support it," Xu said.

"Yeah, me neither," Zell said. He seemed ashamed, as if disagreeing with Quistis was some sort of crime.

Nida chewed his lip for a second, then looked at Quistis. "I… um… I dunno. I don't think we should make up our minds either way just yet. I think we should wait."

Nida had always been very supportive of Quistis' leadership, even back in the early days when she first had been promoted. Quistis could tell that he desperately wanted to agree with her, but his conscience wouldn't let him.

(But a lukewarm response like that isn't helping anyone.)

"If we wait much longer, the Galbadians will withdraw their offer," Quistis said. "Or they'll be overrun by insurgents and defeated. Either way, that's as good as us saying 'no.'"

"I know, I know," Nida said. He sighed. "I guess I'm with Xu and Zell then. I don't want to get involved."

Quistis sighed. "Well, Ami? Is it unanimous against me?"

Ami shifted in her seat, uncomfortable to have all eyes suddenly fall on her.

"Actually… no," Ami said. "I support you."

Quistis breathed a sigh of relief. "May I ask why?"

"Well, as you already said, we aren't breaking any contracts by taking on Galbadia as a client," Ami said. "It's a bit of a moral gray area, sure, but it won't be enough for Timber-Dollet to be able to break their contract with us. They'll complain and kick their feet, but they still need us to help defend their borders. If they withdraw their support from us while we help the Galbadians, then they're just asking to be run over. They don't have the strength to stand on their own just yet. President Yasma and the Duke of Dollet know that."

"That's an awfully ruthless way of looking at it," Xu said. "You're basically saying that we should take the job because no one can stop us from taking it."

"That's not what I'm saying at all," Ami said. "I'm just pointing out the fact that Timber-Dollet's opinion is irrelevant. They shouldn't be considered. So let's focus just on Galbadia. What do they want, and what will they do next? Well, the current government hasn't attacked or made any aggressive moves towards Timber or Dollet since withdrawing their troops from Esthar. In fact, they've spent the majority of their time in their own country, not really bothering anyone."

"They're consolidating power," Xu said. "Once they have everything sorted out, it'll be back to the same old story again."

"I don't think so," Ami said. "Or, at least I think it's unlikely with General Vaschel in charge. He's smart enough to know that Galbadia wouldn't survive if Timber, Dollet, Esthar, and SeeD all ganged up on him at once—which is what we would all do if he chose to attack now. Now that Timber and its extensive train network is running independently of Galbadia's influence, he no longer has free reign of the continent. And with Dollet getting stronger every day, he can't just sail his ships along the coasts in the north without bumping into Dollet's growing fleet. The days when Galbadia could just stomp its way around the world with impunity are over."

"Exactly," Xu said with a nod. "And we should keep it that way. We should keep Galbadia as weak as possible, so that they never want to stick their noses across their borders ever again."

"And I agree," Ami said. "Galbadia needs to learn to behave itself. But these insurgents are worrisome. They're trying to overthrow the government because they believe that General Vaschel is not acting in Galbadia's best interests. They've already stated that they want to start a war with SeeD and Esthar, and they want to violently reclaim Timber. They've made no secret of that."

Xu waved a hand. "I think pretty much everyone in Galbadia wants that. General Vaschel is just smart enough to keep his ambitions private and not air them out in public. The insurgents aren't the only ones in Galbadia who want war; they're just the most vocal about it."

"Perhaps that's true," Ami said. "I admit, no one truly knows what General Vashcel wants except for the General himself. But I believe that war machines—once started—tend to stay in motion. Once the insurgents topple the government, they'll want to keep their momentum going. They'll attack Timber and Dollet and try to bait us into a conflict on their soil, where they have a greater advantage. But if we act to put down the rebellion, I think that will help pacify Galbadia's bloodlust. In short, I believe that insurgents are more likely to start a war than General Vaschel."

"So it's a coin flip then?" Xu asked, chagrined. "Which side is least likely to start a war?"

"To an extent, yes," Ami said. "But there's one more point I want to make. I think the best way to quell Galbadia's violent tendencies is to show them that SeeD is willing to cooperate with them. Part of the reason Galbadia is so hostile towards SeeD is because SeeD has, historically, chosen to fight against Galbadia and their interests. Granted, we had good reasons to do so at the time, but those days are over. Vinzer Deling is no longer in power. He's no longer building his army to conquer the continent and the world. Martine is gone and isn't combing the world for sorceresses anymore. Now that General Vaschel has offered a temporary peace, it's up to us to accept that offer and try to make it permanent."

Ami's words were beginning to have an effect. Quistis watched everyone around the table and saw that both Zell and Nida were beginning to get more involved, taking Ami more seriously.

Quistis was impressed. Ami wasn't much of a talker, but whenever she did speak, she was convincing and eloquent. Quistis was glad to have her at the meeting.

(I'm especially glad she agrees with me.)

(I don't know if I could beat her in an argument…)

"By helping to stabilize the country," Ami continued, "We can establish ties with the General and hopefully build relations that will benefit us in the future. But if we abandon them now, then I think it will just be more of the same from Galbadia. They'll have no reason to trust us or anyone else, and they'll want to fight to protect themselves."

Zell raised his hand. When Quistis nodded to him, he lowered it and spoke. "I uh… I change my vote. I say we help Galbadia."

Ami smiled at him. He grinned and blushed.

Xu shook her head. "I dunno. I mean, I see your point and it's a good point, but when did SeeD start dabbling in the fates of entire nations? Seems like only a few months ago we were just a bunch of mercenaries who performed some odd jobs around the world. Now we're basically in a meeting to decide who's going to control Galbadia."

(She's changing the subject.)

Still, Quistis allowed the change in topic, because Xu's point was also valid—and it was something that had been lurking in the back of Quistis' mind for some time now. She wanted to address it and speak her thoughts openly.

"SeeD is becoming more powerful every day," Quistis said. "It's only natural that our choices bear greater consequences."

"I'm just worried that SeeD is overstepping its bounds," Xu said. "This is… this is pretty big. We're behaving like an entire nation."

"We basically are a nation now," Quistis said. "With three major cities—our three Gardens—and our own army to support us."

SeeD's victory in the battle against Galbadia had been the best advertisement that Garden could have wanted. Suddenly, the public image of SeeD shifted from a secret organization of child mercenaries, lurking in the shadows and carrying out assassinations, to a legitimate military, one with the strength and resources to oppose Galbadia. Joining SeeD had become something romantic, something heroic, in the public eye. As such, SeeD was taking in a record number of new recruits from all around the world.

And the resolution of the situation with G-Garden had helped tremendously as well. After weeks of a three-way deadlock between SeeD, Esthar, and Galbadia over the fate of G-Garden, a compromise had been reached. Esthar experimented with G-Garden's controls and created a device that could shut down the Garden's engines remotely. Three triggers for this shutdown had been given out, one to Galbadia, one to SeeD, and one to Esthar.

In addition, the captured G-Garden students were allowed to go back to their Garden, albeit now under the control of SeeD, rather than Galbadia. Galbadia had agreed to this plan because it resulted in the students—almost all of which were Galbadian citizens—to be freed from Esthar. SeeD had agreed because it gave them control of the third and final Garden. And Esthar had agreed because it was their technology that controlled the shut-off switches, which they felt made them the ultimate masters of G-Garden's fate.

Essentially, everyone had thought they were getting the best out of the arrangement, and all three groups—Galbadia, SeeD, and Esthar—believed they could manipulate G-Garden and eventually wrest it free from the influence of the other two.

(One of us is right.)

(And two of us are wrong.)

The situation with G-Garden was complicated and unlikely to be resolved anytime soon, but at least the tensions had died down somewhat.

Xu leaned forward. "But… remember what Squall said? About what he saw in the future? Doesn't that frighten you? The idea that SeeD might end up controlling the world? That we turn into some kind of evil dictatorship?"

Quistis sighed. She laced her fingers together and met Xu's gaze. "We can't worry about that. That's one of the things I've learned. Sis taught us… Ellone taught us that we can't be shackled to the past. But I've learned that we can't be shackled to the future either. We don't know what's going to happen a year from now, a hundred years from now. Squall only saw a brief glimpse of the world ahead, not the whole picture. He doesn't know the circumstances that brought us to that point, or the reasoning behind it all. We can only do what's best for us in our present time and not worry about what things will look like in Ultimecia's time."

"But that's what I'm afraid of," Xu said. "I'm worried that every SeeD Commander from here on out is going to say the same thing. That we have to worry about ourselves in the present, and not the future. And they'll keep saying that to themselves year after year, and generation after generation until one day Ultimecia arrives and no one is left to blame. I mean, come on, Q. If someone told you that you were going to become evil in the future, wouldn't you do something to try to stop it?"

"What would you suggest we do?" Quistis asked. "The only thing that I believe would guarantee a change in the future would be to dismantle SeeD entirely. If we cease to exist, that's the only way to be sure that Ultimecia's future doesn't happen. I'm not willing to do that, so my only choice is to move forward and do what I feel is best, given the circumstances."

Xu sighed, then looked down at the table. She leaned back in her chair and shrugged. "Well, I spoke my piece. I don't have any further arguments. If you want to go ahead and take the commission from Galbadia, I'll support you."

"Me too," Nida said. Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.

Quistis clapped her hands together. "Then it's settled. I'll get in touch with General Vaschel right away and we'll discuss terms. Thank you all for your help."

With that, everyone began standing up, pushing their chairs away from the table. As she was rising, Quistis caught Ami's eye.

"You were quite convincing," Quistis said. Ami smiled shyly. "Make sure you come to more meetings. You have a clear head and a good perspective."

(And you and I think along the same lines, which is always helpful.)

"Thanks," Ami said softly.

"Ain't she great?" Zell said, throwing his arm over Ami's shoulder and shaking her back and forth. Her head wobbled unsteadily as Zell jerked her about, grinning. She looked up at him and blushed and together the two exited Cid's office.

Nida followed after them. Since the Garden was currently parked on Balamb Island, there was no need for him to hang around on the bridge anymore. When he wasn't piloting Garden—which was almost all the time now, since Garden had returned—he taught a driving class, teaching students how to drive cars and motorcycles and boats in both combat and non-combat situations. He also helped out in the parking garage, repairing cars and modifying them with bullet proof windows and reinforced frames. Quistis was glad to see how active he had become in the school, considering how—a few weeks ago—he often talked about how bored he was and how little he had to do.

(Well, that's certainly changed now.)

Quistis turned to the last two people remaining in the room: Xu and Headmaster Cid.

"Xu," Quistis said. "Could you please give the Headmaster and me a moment alone?"

Xu looked surprised. "What can you say to the Headmaster that you can't say to me? I'm Lieutenant Commander now. Whatever it is, I'll find out eventually."

"This concerns… personal matters," Quistis said. "About us orphanage kids."

Xu wrinkled her nose and frowned. "I understand." She nodded to Quistis and the Headmaster and then turned and exited the office.

When the doors closed, Cid immediately turned to Quistis.

"Well, before you say whatever it is you're going to say," he said, "Let me first tell you that I have no doubts at all about leaving Garden entirely under your control. You and the others performed splendidly, with almost no help from me. I have the greatest confidence that you all will lead the school towards a bright new future after I'm gone."

Quistis smiled, embarrassed. "Thank you, Headmaster."

"No need for formality when it's just you and me here," Cid said. "We have too much history for that. You can call me 'Cid.' I think you've earned the right."

Quistis shook her head. "I'm sorry, Headmaster. But you'll probably always be 'Headmaster' to me."

Cid shrugged. "Oh, well. Suit yourself."

"And Headmaster," Quistis said. "Please refrain from talking about when you're gone. I don't anticipate seeing you leave Garden for many years yet."

"Neither do I," Cid said. "But the unexpected is always possible, isn't it? Who knows what may happen tomorrow or a year from now. I wanted to make sure that I told you how proud I am of you—of all of you—in case… well, in case the worst comes to pass."

Quistis grimaced. She understood immediately what had prompted him to say that.

(Sis…)

None of them had gotten to say goodbye. Of all of those who knew her, only Squall had been there in her final moments—something that Quistis still resented. She didn't blame Squall for Ellone's death, but she did feel anger at how he had denied them all the truth for two weeks before finally confessing.

(I wonder if I'll ever forgive him for that.)

After everything he had done—or had not done—concerning Ellone, followed by his sudden departure from SeeD, Quistis found herself respecting Squall less and less as time went on. He had abandoned SeeD on four occasions: once to carry Rinoa to Esthar, once to investigate Rinoa's dreams, once to chase after Selphie, and the fourth time to join White SeeD. And three of those times, Quistis had been left behind in Garden to hold everything together in his absence.

(He was right.)

(He was never a good leader.)

Headmaster Cid cleared his throat. "Now what were you going to say? Is this about Ellone?"

"No, actually," Quistis said. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. "This has nothing to do with her. I wasn't being entirely truthful to Xu, when I told her the reason why I wanted to talk to you."

Cid raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Have you ever heard of the Legendary SeeD?" Quistis asked.

Cid frowned. He mouthed the words, "Legendary SeeD," then blinked and shook his head. "No. Never heard of such a thing. Is that one of the students?"

"It's Squall, supposedly," Quistis said.

"Hm. Good title," Cid said with a smile. "A bit grandiose. I can't imagine Squall would enjoy being called that."

"Ultimecia kept saying it," Quistis said. "She first said it when we fought her in G-Garden, when she was possessing Matron."

"Hm? Really? Squall's report didn't mention anything like that," Cid said. He adjusted his glasses.

"It didn't seem important enough at the time," Quistis said. "And his mind was on other things. But she mentioned it again, to Seifer and Ellone. And then a final time to Squall in Esthar. The Legendary SeeD. The one who is destined to face her. Or so she says."

Cid shook his head. "This is all news to me, I'm afraid."

"Squall was concerned about it," Quistis said. "When he got back from Esthar, he said that he searched through the library, through the history books, and through all the records and resources he could find. No mention of any Legendary SeeD or any destiny concerning Ultimecia."

"Maybe it's just a product of Ultimecia's delusions," Cid said. He shrugged. "Or a story passed along in the future. Who knows?"

"Perhaps," Quistis said. "But I had a thought."

Cid watched her with an even expression.

"What if we start the idea of the Legendary SeeD?" she asked. "What if we start telling a story about a courageous hero who will one day vanquish the sorceress forever? One who is destined to face her—and defeat her?"

Cid shook his head. "It'd never work," he said. "People would never believe it. Furthermore, everyone still remembers too much about Squall, and about the events surrounding Ultimecia. If we start spreading rumors now, it'll just make us look silly."

"That's why we wait," Quistis said. "Maybe five years. Ten years. Twenty years. We wait until everyone has forgotten or graduated. And then we introduce the idea. Perhaps we can print off a book and hide it in the library and wait for it to be found. Let the rumor spread and grow on its own. And maybe, by the time it reaches Ultimecia's era, it will be a full-blown prophecy. One strong enough to convince her that her only choice is to initiate time compression, to free herself from a nemesis that doesn't actually exist."

"It's certainly an idea," Cid said. "But I think you should take your own advice: don't shackle yourself to the future. Don't try to predict what will happen, and you most certainly should not try to manipulate events that won't occur until generations after we're all deceased."

"But where else would the notion of a Legendary SeeD come from?" Quistis asked. "There are no oracles, no prophets here. Who would ever come up with something like that? I'm convinced that SeeD started this rumor. It's the explanation that makes the most sense."

"Put it out of your mind, Quistis," Cid said. He rested a hand on her shoulder. "Talk to General Vaschel. Finalize the contract. Focus on the present."

Quistis met his gaze and nodded.

"I understand," she said.

Cid removed his hand, and Quistis walked over to his desk and sat down. She powered on the computer and prepared to forge a link with the Galbadian General.

As she waited for the connection to go through, Quistis took out her agenda book and scribbled at the bottom the words, "Legendary SeeD." She put away her pen and tucked the agenda book into her pocket.

A few seconds later, the connection went through.

(Seifer)

(Two months after)

"If you don't mind me askin'…" the shopkeeper said. Seifer glared at him. He had no idea what the man was about to say, but he was already annoyed. Why couldn't people just do their jobs and be quiet? They always had to ask questions, make comments, try to start conversations.

The man finished his sentence, "… Are you a SeeD?"

Seifer sighed. "You got my gunblade or not?"

"I was just askin'," the man said. He raised both hands defensively. "No need to get upset. It just ain't every day that I see a gunblade. The blade's heavy and the grip is hard to manage. Takes a lot of practice to master one. It's easier to learn how to use a regular sword."

"I didn't ask for a lecture on weapons," Seifer said. "Is my gunblade done?"

"It's done," the man said. "I got it locked up in the back. Hold on one second."

He knocked twice on the wooden countertop and then turned around, opening a door behind him that led to a back room. Seifer sighed, cracked his neck, and rested his gloved fingers on the counter. He looked around at all the assorted junk in the store. Most of it wasn't anything special. Random bits and pieces collected from trades with local vendors, occasionally bits of more exotic items from further away. Nothing that really caught his eye. Ordinarily, Seifer would have ignored the shop entirely.

But he had noticed that the man seemed to have a talent for etching blades. A few Galbadian Military Sabers hung from hooks on the wall, displaying intricate patterns on the steel. One of them had a long snake coiling around and around the blade, another was etched to look like it was on fire. Even though this was a no-name junk shop in the middle of the woods, the man seemed to have an impressive skill. Seifer wondered why such a talented man was living in a poor little village when he could be making big money in Deling City or Esthar.

(Hell, I don't understand people.)

Seifer didn't remember ever leaving Esthar. His last memory was of fighting Squall. He remembered that he was winning, that he was atop his enemy and raining down vicious strikes that Squall could barely defend. Then there was a flash of light and a thunk and Seifer woke up in a field with a raging headache.

Fujin and Raijin told him the story of what had happened after that. Apparently, he'd gotten struck in the head with the flat of Squall's blade and instantly knocked out. Before Squall could finish him off, Fujin and Raijin intervened and rescued him. From there, they carried him down to the lower levels of the Lunatic Pandora and waited, wondering if the Esthar soldiers were going to pursue them.

Suddenly, the stones began to glow bright green. The inside of the Pandora was replaced by a giant empty white void, containing only the three of them. Less than a minute later, the void vanished and Fujin, Raijin, and Seifer found themselves in a field which they later learned was just outside of Balamb. They had no idea how they had gotten there.

Seifer thought the whole story was ridiculous. It didn't make sense. But then again, it didn't really matter what the truth was. The important thing was that Seifer and his posse had managed to escape Esthar intact. Ultimecia hadn't compressed time—which was a good thing—but at the same time, Seifer hadn't been able to settle the score with Squall.

(Someday I will.)

"You know…" a female voice near the front of the shop said. "People who don't like to be asked questions shouldn't carry gunblades."

Seifer scowled.

(Another damn person tryin' to start a conversation.)

He turned away from the counter and looked. Next to a shelf filled with replacement rifle parts was a fairly short girl with black hair and glasses. She had a beaten up Galbadian Military Saber in one hand. The blade was cracked along the middle. It was surprising that it was still in one piece. She wore a black t-shirt and patched jeans.

Despite Seifer's scowl, the girl walked towards him.

"Gunblades stand out," she said, weaving her way through the shelves of junk. "They get remembered. And so do their owners."

"I wanna be remembered," Seifer said. "Hell of a lot better than bein' forgotten."

She stepped up alongside him and joined him at the counter. He was annoyed by her familiarity, her closeness. She showed no fear. In fact, she seemed a little bored.

(Who does she think she is?)

"The hell do you want?" Seifer asked.

The woman looked straight ahead, watching the door to the back room. Without looking at Seifer, she said, "You're Seifer Almasy, aren't you?"

Seifer tensed and took a step backwards. Instinctively, he began to prepare himself for a fight. He clenched both hands and called up a small fire spell, ready to throw it if the stranger showed even the slightest aggression. But despite Seifer's reaction, she continued to stare ahead, unfazed. She leaned forward and rested both elbows on the table and propped up her head with one hand.

"Who's askin'?" Seifer asked.

"I didn't think you'd remember me," the woman said. Keeping her chin on her hand, she turned her head and looked at him. "I was along with you on your first Field Exam. I remember that it was your first because you kept going on and on about how you were going to ace the exam and be a SeeD. You kept talking how it usually takes three or four tries before someone passes, but oh, not you. You'd get it first try. You wouldn't shut up about it, really."

Seifer scowled. Though he hated to admit it, he still remembered his first Field Exam and yes, he had bragged about how he was going to pass it first try.

(But I didn't go on and on about it.)

Though he remembered the Exam, he did not remember the girl. He didn't remember anyone from that first Field Exam. All he could recall was his crushing shame and rage when his name wasn't called to Cid's office.

"So who are you?" Seifer asked. Obviously she was a SeeD. But why was she here? And why was she alone?
(She's not alone.)

(They always work in teams.)

Seifer kept a wary eye on the door, waiting for her companions to burst through. Were they going to arrest him? Kill him? He didn't know. But whatever they wanted to do, he wouldn't come along quietly. Even though this girl had passed the SeeD exam first try, she didn't have Seifer's life experiences. She hadn't been through what he had. He figured he could take her in a fight.

"I'm someone who did pass the Exam first try," she said. She straightened up, turned to Seifer, and extended her hand. "Mireya Roshfall," she said.

Seifer looked down at her hand and sneered.

"Why the hell would you think I'd wanna shake your hand?" Seifer asked.

(Probably a trap anyway.)

Seifer could think of at least two or three throws and a couple arm locks that could be initiated from a handshake position. He would be an idiot to take her hand, even if he wasn't already too annoyed at her to be polite.

"I thought, after all your failures," Mireya said, lowering her hand, "That you'd like to touch someone who has actually succeeded at something."

His anger flared up in an instant, then rushed down his arm and to his hand. The words were barely out of her mouth when his arm began swinging, aiming a rough backhanded punch towards her jaw.

(Touch this!)

With a bored expression behind her glasses, Mireya angled her head to the side and allowed the punch to fly harmlessly past her face. She took a step backwards and tightened her grip on her sword, ready to strike out. When it was clear that Seifer wasn't preparing a second attack, she spoke.

"So it is true what they say," Mireya said. "You are rather easy to provoke."

Seifer looked away. He was angry and humiliated, but he knew a strong fighter when he saw one. She had dodged a surprise attack at close quarters and made it look easy. Her reflexes were sharp. If they were going to fight—and Seifer was convinced that it was now inevitable—he wanted to have his gunblade in his hand and enough room to swing it. The junk shop was too cramped for his fighting style.

"Where the hell is the damn shopkeep?" Seifer muttered. He banged his fist on the counter, leaned forward and shouted, "Where's my sword, old man?!"

"It's a bad idea to anger people when they're holding your only weapon," Mireya said.

"Well ain't you just a fountain of wisdom," Seifer said. He glanced at her. "So what's SeeD doin' way out here? Don't tell me you're lookin' for me."

"Don't flatter yourself," Mireya said. She relaxed and leaned against the counter once more. "You're not that important."

Seifer clenched his teeth. Leaning up against the counter, she wouldn't be able to draw her sword and with her body turned to him she'd have trouble dodging him. He watched her, contemplating a second attack, but then he glanced down. He knew enough from his own training to recognize a fighter's stance. She appeared like she had relaxed and lowered her guard, but her feet were planted and her muscles tensed. She was ready to move, to attack. She was only waiting for him to make the first strike.

(Damn…)

Seifer scowled harder.

"SeeD doesn't care about you," Mireya said. "But I think I can find a use for you."

Seifer was about to shut her down with a flat refusal. But he had too many unanswered questions and despite himself, he found that he wanted to know the answers. What would a girl from SeeD—one who apparently knew Seifer's history—want with him? Was it a job offer from SeeD, or was the girl acting independently?

His curiosity piqued, he asked, "What do you want?"

"I'm like you," Mireya said. "I'm an exile from SeeD. And, if I'm reading you right, you want the same thing I want."

"Which is?" Seifer asked. He tensed up. Her answer to his question would determine if he would still be interested or not.

"A purpose," Mireya said. Seifer rolled his eyes. "Something worth fighting for. In the past, SeeD gave that to us, but now that we're no longer associated with them, we need to find a new purpose for ourselves."

(I don't need a damn purpose from this girl.)

Seifer turned towards the counter, annoyed and a little disappointed. This girl knew him and could hold her own in a fight, but she—like so many others—simply failed to understand him.

"I'm fine on my own," Seifer said. "And seriously, where the hell is my damn gunblade!"

"I don't doubt that you're fine," Mireya said. "But that's not enough for you. You want to be more than fine. You don't want to just survive; you want to succeed."

"Look, Miranda," Seifer said, turning to her.

"Mireya."

"Whatever," Seifer said with a wave of his hand. "I'm not interested in whatever you're sellin'."

"I'm offering you a job," Mireya said. "I can pay you. More than Garden ever paid you. More than anyone has ever paid you. I was always a bit of an anomaly at SeeD because my parents are still alive. And are rather rich, actually. Well, technically they're just the heirs to my grandfather's corporation, but they're wealthy nonetheless. So I have a fair amount of discretionary income that I can use however I want."

"Good for you," Seifer said.

(So she's a rich snob who thinks she can buy me.)

(Great.)

He turned away and focused on the back door, willing for the owner to return with his gunblade so he could walk out of the store and forget about this girl.

"You won't get a better offer from anyone," Mireya said. "The world's three biggest employers right now are Galbadia, Esthar, and SeeD, and all three of those groups hate you. Wherever you go, your name, your past, will come back to haunt you. You're going to be stuck scavenging for manual labor jobs at subsistence-level wages for the rest of your life. Don't pretend you don't know that."

"It's none of your business what I do with my life," Seifer said.

"You're saying you don't need money?" Mireya asked.

(Go away.)

Seifer didn't answer right away. Instead he sighed, then said, "So what, your parents let you roam around the world hiring mercenaries for fun?"

Mireya shrugged and smiled faintly. "To paraphrase you, it's none of my parents' business what I do with my life. I carved out a portion of my grandfather's estate when I was fourteen and invested it in a number of companies around the world. They don't know what I'm up to or how I'm spending my money—or even how much money I have. I am totally independent. In fact, my parents still think I'm at Garden. I haven't gotten around to telling them that I got expelled, and they've never taken much of an interest in my life anyway."

(Cry me a river.)

"So what'd you do to get kicked out of SeeD?" Seifer asked. "Got caught tryin' to buy good grades?"

Without a trace of emotion or irony in her voice, Mireya said, "I organized a student rebellion and violently overthrew Headmaster Cid and his administration. I would have succeeded, were it not for the combined efforts of Trabia Garden and White SeeD—and the incompetence of my subordinates."

Seifer snorted. "You're serious, ain't you?"

"I am always serious," Mireya said.

Seifer shook his head. His interest was suddenly piqued again. He didn't really care about what she intended to offer him, but he found himself curious about her personally. Anyone who fought against SeeD and wasn't totally obliterated in the attempt was worthy of at least his curiosity.

"How the hell did you get SeeD to revolt?" Seifer said. "I'm dyin' to know."

"Everyone has something they want," Mireya said with a shrug. "Some wanted money, some wanted to belong to a group, some were afraid of what we'd do if they didn't fall in line, and a few believed wholeheartedly in our cause. And two of those loyal supporters are still with me now."

"So…" Seifer said. "Why would a rich girl like you wanna join SeeD anyway? Lemme guess. You tried to buy it first, but when Cid wouldn't sell it to you, you enlisted and tried to take it down from the inside."

"Not a bad guess, but no," Mireya said. "I joined because I was bored. Like I said, I became completely independent when I was fourteen, but my future was already assured from the day of my birth. When you have as much money as my family does, there's nothing left to do except spend it all or sit around and watch the numbers in your bank account. My parents were content to stay in a mansion in a small town in Dollet and wait for their inheritance to kick in. I wanted something more than that, so I enlisted."

Despite himself, Seifer laughed.

(I can't believe this girl.)

"You're crazy," Seifer said. "Totally fricken insane."

"You aren't the first to say that," Mireya said.

The back door to the shop opened and the shopkeeper returned. He cradled Seifer's gunblade in his hands, the blade wrapped in an oil-stained cloth. Seifer nearly collapsed with relief.

(Finally!)

"The hell, man?" Seifer said. "I paid you to have my gunblade finished when I arrived, not ten minutes after."

"Sorry, sorry," the man said. "But I noticed a couple of last minute corrections I wanted to make. I assure you, those last ten minutes will be worth the wait."

He rested the gunblade down on the counter and then, with a flourish, he pulled back the cloth.

Seifer was dazzled. His gunblade had been polished to a mirror sheen, the edge sharpened so fine that it could have cleaved through stone. The handle had been modified with a new slide lock and an engraved grip. And there, at the base of the blade, Seifer's custom phoenix emblem had been etched magnificently into the metal. The design was perfect, the flames seeming to come alive at the immortal bird's feet as the creature spread its wings to the imaginary sky.

(Yes…)

"Hm," Mireya said, nodding with approval. "A phoenix. That's a worthy symbol for one like you."

Seifer didn't answer her. With a look of awe and ecstasy, he picked up the gunblade and held the grip, feeling its weight. Maybe it was his imagination, but it felt lighter than he remembered. The grip seemed more snug and comfortable in his grasp. He held the sword with one hand on the grip and the other gently caressing the length of the steel. He angled it back and forth, letting the light from the window shine off the metal.

"A blade like that needs to be used," Mireya said. "Don't waste it by letting it sit on a shelf somewhere."

Seifer scowled. He lowered his gunblade, annoyed that he had to take his eyes off of it.

"You're still here?" he asked.

"Tell you what," Mireya said. "Let's settle this. Here, now."

"What?" Seifer asked.

"It'll give you a chance to break in your shiny new gunblade," Mireya said. She put a hand on her hip. "Fight me, one on one. If you win, I'll leave you alone. If you lose, you come work for me."

Seifer scoffed. "Why the hell would I agree to that? Besides, your rusty little butterknife would just scratch my blade."

"Hey, hey, hey," the shopkeeper said. He put a hand between the two teenagers. "No fighting in my store, you hear?"

But they ignored him.

"I'll buy you a new one," Mireya said. "I'll buy you seven new gunblades. Use a different one every day of the week. I don't care."

Seifer raised an eyebrow.

"Seven gunblades are expensive," Seifer said.

Mireya shrugged. "Not for me, they aren't."

Obviously, he had no real interest in owning more than one gunblade. But a cash payout of the price of seven gunblades was a staggering amount. On a SeeD cadet's commission, it had taken him two years to earn enough money to buy Hyperion and he was making even less money than he was now.

If he beat her in a fight—and he desperately wanted to beat her, just to make her shut up—and she paid up, then he'd have more money than he'd know what to do with. Enough for him, Fujin, and Raijin to get into a decent sized city and start making an actual life for themselves.

Of course, there was a chance that the girl was lying about everything. That she didn't have rich grandparents, that she wasn't obscenely wealthy. It might all be a bluff to convince him to enlist with her cause. But she probably had some money on her. Even if she wasn't rich, he could still take whatever she had after he beat her. Even a couple hundred gil would go a long way towards helping him out.

"Fine," Seifer said. "We'll fight. And if you lose, you give me enough cash for seven gunblades, and then I never have to look at you again. Deal?"

She nodded. "And if I win, you work for me?"

"How much do you pay?" Seifer asked.

"I'll pay you like an A-Rank SeeD," Mireya said. "To start. And then we can work from there, depending on your performance."

(This has gotta be a bluff.)

No one had that much money to spend, and even if they did, they wouldn't blow it all on Seifer. The girl had to be crazy to even make this offer—whether or not she actually had the funds to back it up.

But if he refused, not only would he look like a coward, but he'd also never find out if she was telling the truth.

"Let's go," Seifer said. He pointed down at her broken Saber. "You gonna fight with that thing?"

She looked down at the blade and shook her head. She turned to the shopkeeper and dropped the broken sword on the countertop. She pointed at an identical sword mounted on the wall.

"I'll take that one," Mireya said.

"You sure you don't want one of the custom ones?" the shopkeeper asked.

"No, just the standard model," Mireya said.

The shopkeeper shrugged and grabbed the sword from off the wall. He set it down, named the price, and Mireya pulled out a wallet from her pocket. When she opened it, Seifer saw that it was overflowing with bills. She plucked a couple out at random and set them down.

(God damn…)

(She's loaded.)

Seifer practically salivated.

"Keep the change," she said, picking up her new sword and leaving her old on the counter.

The old man counted the bills, before he leaned forward and said, "No fightin' in the town, you hear? We like to keep it quiet in these parts."

"Understood," Mireya said. She spun around and headed for the door with Seifer right behind her. He could barely contain his excitement. No matter what happened next, he was going to get paid tonight.

Mireya reached the front door and pulled it open, holding it for Seifer. Seifer hesitated. It was always weird whenever someone else held the door for him, especially when it was a woman. He gave her a glance, then stepped out into the afternoon sunlight.

"You better put up a good fight," Mireya said. "If you're a lousy swordsman, I'll have to reconsider whether or not it's worth hiring you."

"Oh don't worry about that," Seifer said with a grin. "When I fight, I fight to win."

Fujin and Raijin were at a nearby pub, playing cards and bar games to scrape up some extra cash, so Seifer was free to wander for the rest of the afternoon without either of them wondering where he was.

Mireya turned down the dirt road leading into the woods. Seifer followed for a short distance, then began to grow wary the further away she got. He remembered that she had mentioned that she had at least two other followers with her. What if they were waiting in the woods, ready to ambush him as soon as he was out of sight of the village?

Seifer tensed up and gripped his gunblade.

Without warning, Mireya stopped in the middle of the road and said, "This will do."

Seifer stopped a few paces behind her. She spun around slowly, then drew her Galbadian Military Saber and flicked it out with a flourish. She closed her eyes, focused, and took a breath. She focused on Seifer's eyes, cold determination showing in her expression.

"Whenever you're ready," she said.

"I'll make this quick," Seifer said.

He raised his gunblade and lunged at her.

(Squall)

(Three months after)

He never regretted his decision. Not even once.

Which was strange. Just a few months earlier, he could not imagine what his life would be like without SeeD. Without the structure of Garden surrounding him on all sides. Without instructors and the Headmaster telling him what do. He expected to live and die as a member of SeeD.

Technically—because of some complicated documents that Headmaster Cid had drawn up when he finally, reluctantly, allowed Squall to transfer to White SeeD—Squall was still a part of the overall SeeD system, albeit in an auxiliary branch that operated independently of the main division. But for all practical purposes, he wasn't in SeeD. He had little to do with any of the three Gardens, aside from occasional radio contact. He heard stories about their ongoing problems: the civil war in Galbadia, the mounting pressure from the increasingly powerful Timber-Dollet Alliance, the question of Esthar's loyalties and future ambitions, the tension over who rightfully owned Galbadia Garden. Squall looked at all those issues and was glad that he didn't have to deal with them.

Not that he wanted to avoid problems. He wasn't a coward, nor was he lazy. He had ambitions, he had goals and dreams, but none of his desires aligned with the future of the SeeD organization. He wanted something different than what SeeD could give him.

In his heart, he had always known that his loyalty to Rinoa was at odds with his loyalty to SeeD. And it wasn't just because she was a sorceress. Even before he had known that she had accepted the sorceress powers from Edea, he had left Garden to go wake her up from her unending sleep. In situations where both SeeD and Rinoa were endangered, he would protect Rinoa first. He'd proven that time and time again.

(That's not the kind of leader Garden needs.)

(The SeeD Commander should put SeeD first, always.)

For a long time, he managed to live with this schism, protecting Rinoa from harm, from those who threatened her, while also doing the same for SeeD. But when members of SeeD began to turn against Rinoa, when the two entities he was most loyal to became enemies, he realized that he could no longer maintain his position as SeeD Commander. Either he would fail SeeD, or he would fail Rinoa, and one of the two would be lost. He couldn't bear that.

But even knowing all that, he most likely would have stayed as SeeD Commander if Ellone had said nothing in their final conversation. Had she simply explained about time compression and then helped Squall connect with his friends and remove Ultimecia from Rinoa's body, he would have gone back to SeeD and remained the Commander, struggling to reconcile the idea of a sorceress with the nature of SeeD. Perhaps his struggles would have destroyed him, or all three—himself, Rinoa, and SeeD. He didn't know, and didn't like to think about what might have been, had he stayed with Garden.

Ellone, however, had not merely explained the fact that the other sorceresses from time compression were coming. She had given him an alternative. A different path to walk. All his life, he assumed that he would be a SeeD until he died. It was an intrinsic part of his identity, as inseparable as his heart, or the scar on his face. But by showing him how the sorceresses were connecting to the past, Ellone had sparked a thought in Squall's mind—a way to protect Rinoa without wholly abandoning SeeD. Strengthening both SeeD and the sorceresses while doing good in the world. If it hadn't been for Ellone, he may have never gotten the idea.

And now he stood upon the deck of the White SeeD ship, looking out towards the distant rocky shore of the Centra continent. The morning sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, and the dark blue sky was still full of stars.

It had taken a couple weeks for Headmaster Cid to reach a decision and allow Squall to transfer to White SeeD and then more time for the transfer to be finalized. It was another month for Squall and Rinoa and Edea—who had insisted on coming along, to help bridge the gap between Squall and White SeeD—to integrate into White SeeD. Only when all the rules and regulations, all the names and ranks had been learned, was Squall able to begin his work.

He went first to Esthar, to speak with Piet, Dr. Odine, and Laguna. Together, they talked about all the events that had transpired before, during, and after the battle between Esthar and Galbadia. Some of the details that Squall and Rinoa had brought up inspired Dr. Odine to begin work on new experiments. The scientists also raised some interesting points, giving Squall a lot to consider in the following days and weeks.

Piet tried to gloat about the fact that the existence of Hyne's Fount had been all but proven, but Dr. Odine dismissed him, saying that Rinoa had used the Lunatic Pandora to draw the energy from some other place and time, and that the idea of the Fount was still absurd. That had sparked a long, heated debate and ended with Dr. Odine throwing a beaker at Piet.

The Odine Ring had been recovered along with Selphie after the battle. The ring had taken no major damage, but once the Lunatic Pandora had been destroyed, the green crystal packed inside the ring became inert. Rinoa tried to connect with her own past again, but could not. Disgusted with the ineffectual device, Dr. Odine allowed Rinoa to keep the ring.

(I wonder what else has changed, now that the Pandora is gone.)

If Ellone was right—and he had no reason to think she wasn't—then the alternate versions of himself, Rinoa, Irvine, Selphie, Zell, and Quistis were now gone along with the Pandora. Squall didn't understand what that meant. Had they, by destroying the Pandora, severed their link to the future, preventing their past selves from reaching Ultimecia's castle?

That couldn't be the case, because time was still intact and nothing had changed. So perhaps their alternate selves had simply moved into time compression. And if that was the case, did that mean that Squall and the others no longer had the Pandora's protection? Were they now just as easily killed as any other SeeD?

Squall didn't know, but he wasn't terribly interested in finding out. He would live his life under the assumption that if he died, that was the end, and no alternate self or energy store was going to bring him back.

Hoping to discover a way to contact Ellone within time compression, Squall had next gone to Fisherman's Horizon to speak with Selphie. It was then that they learned that Selphie's power had altered. She could still connect with Guardian Forces—and rip them out of people—but it seemed that she couldn't do anything to knock their consciousness into time compression, even when she worked alongside Rinoa.

Squall's guess was that, now that the Pandora was destroyed, it was more difficult to link to time compression. Somehow the Crystal Pillar must have formed a bridge, making it easier for people to enter into that white void. Disappointed, Squall decided to shelve his plans to contact Ellone and instead focus on finding other sorceresses.

His first destination was Winhill. Not because he was aware that it was his hometown—Rinoa still hadn't found the right time or the right words, and Edea certainly wasn't going to be the first to tell him—but because he had figured out that if Ellone was an heiress, and heiresses were the daughters of sorceresses, then Ellone's biological mother must have been a sorceress.

Remembering his trips to the past and his talks with Laguna, Squall knew that Ellone's parents had been murdered by Esthar troops during Adel's reign. If that was the case, then Ellone's mother must have passed on the sorceress powers either after her death or shortly before. Which meant that someone in Winhill either was a sorceress or at least knew where one was.

The people of Winhill, however, were either very ignorant or very good at keeping secrets, as no one seemed to know anything about any sorceresses. Several of the older people in town remembered Adel's invasion and the death of Ellone's parents. They had fond memories of the little girl that Raine had raised, but aside from that, no one knew that Ellone was special or that her mother must have been a sorceress.

Squall had made a promise that if the sorceresses he sought didn't want to be found, then he would leave them alone. So after interviewing everyone in town and discovering no leads, he left the village mayor with his contact information in case any news should develop and then left to search elsewhere.

His next destination lay on the horizon: the ruins of Edea's orphanage on the Centra continent. According to Ellone, the sorceresses from time compression were drawn to locations that held strong memories for the group of six that had traveled to the future and back. Squall could think of no more potent location than the orphanage where five of the six of them had grown up. It was very likely that a sorceress had already appeared there—or would appear soon.

He felt a hand slip into his. He squeezed it without looking. He knew the feel of Rinoa's gloves by now. She had stopped wearing her bangs in her face, allowing her lined features to be exposed to the air, but she had never stopped the habit of wearing gloves. Squall wondered if she ever would.

(It's her decision.)

(Whatever she wants is fine with me.)

"What if there isn't a sorceress there?" Rinoa asked. "Or what if one was there, but now she's long gone?"

"Then we keep looking," Squall said. "That's what we're here for. To search."

"What if she wandered inland?" Rinoa asked. "We'd have to search the whole continent to find her."

An image of an undead sorceress, endlessly roaming forests of western Centra and the deserts in the continent's heart crossed his mind. Would she eventually collapse, or could she survive indefinitely on her sorceress powers? Would monsters attack her? Would she defend herself?

There was so much that Squall didn't know.

"We can't search the whole continent," Squall said. "That's just impractical. If there's nothing at the orphanage or the surrounding areas, then we'll try the next spot on our list. Remember, the sorceresses from time compression are basically mindless, so it's not like they're going to be running away from us or hiding."

"Yeah," Rinoa said. "But I've been thinking about that."

"About what?" Squall asked.

"How the power passes on," Rinoa said. "Since I'm already a sorceress, when I take the sorceress power, there's now one less sorceress in the world. But if someone else takes it, then the power lives on in that person. But if I took the power from every single sorceress in the world, I'd be the only one left."

Squall shrugged. "That's true, as far as I understand."

"I was wondering…" Rinoa said. She turned and looked up at him. "What if we did that? What if we gathered together every sorceress in the world—even the ones from time compression—and I was the one who took all their powers? And then, as the last sorceress, I went to the Sorceress Memorial and—"

Squall stopped her. "We already know how this plays out. I won't lock you up in the Memorial. No matter what."

Rinoa gazed at him. "I know, but girls live longer than boys. Eventually, I'll probably be without you. Even in the best situation."

"Don't think about that," Squalls said. "It's decades from now."

She continued on. "And then, after you're gone, what's to stop me from locking myself up? Actually, since I'd be the last sorceress, I'm sure there'd be a lot of people who would like to lock me up so I couldn't pass on my powers. What if they sealed me in the Memorial and buried me deep underground, or shot me into space like they did with Adel? What if there was never another sorceress after me?"

Squall was stumped. "I… I don't know. But I don't think it would work."

"Why not?" Rinoa asked. "Think about it. If I was the last sorceress, then Ultimecia will never be born. We could change the future!"

"It's not that simple," Squall said. "For one, I kinda doubt we'll find every last sorceress. As long as there is at least one sorceress unaccounted for, then Ultimecia could still be born and accept her powers. And for two, I don't think anyone could keep you locked up forever. Eventually the Memorial would get old and break and you'd be set free, or someone would come along who wanted the sorceress powers and they'd break you loose."

"Okay then," Rinoa said. "Think about this. What if they just shot me straight into space? Not into orbit like Adel, but just point me at the furthest star and let me drift forever? No one would ever find me, and even if they did, it would be so far into the future that it wouldn't matter. Ultimecia's time would have come and gone."

"Honestly," Squall said, "I think something would stop you. Or something would go wrong. I don't think Fate or destiny or whatever would let you negate Ultimecia's existence like that."

"We could try," Rinoa said. "I mean, doesn't that scare you?"

"Hm?" Squall said. "What?"

"The idea that we can't change the future," Rinoa said. "I know definitely it scares me. I just keep thinking about Ultimecia. Her going back in time, going further and further back to undo the past, always thinking that if she tries harder, if she's more ruthless, if she's more powerful, then maybe this time she'll be able to do it. And every time she gets close to succeeding, but then it all falls apart. Maybe we're the same way. Thinking that we can change the future, trying harder and harder to make things better, but in the end, we just end up doing exactly what we were supposed to do from the beginning."

"You might be right," Squall said. "I've wondered about that myself."

"Then what's the point?" Rinoa asked. She released his hand and threw out her arms. "Generations from now, Ultimecia is gonna be born. She's going to go back in time and do horrible things. And we can't stop her. In fact, everything we do is just gonna bring us closer to her. It doesn't matter. Nothing—"

But suddenly her lips were sealed with Squall's. Her eyes went wide and she tried to suck in a breath, but Squall's mouth kept her from breathing. After a moment, she relaxed and leaned into the kiss. Squall wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into him. Squall lingered on a few more seconds, then pulled away, looking deeply into Rinoa's eyes.

"You didn't know that was going to happen, did you?" Squall asked.

"… No," Rinoa said. She shook her head and blushed.

"Maybe we can't change anything in the long-term," Squall said. "Maybe we can't stop Ultimecia from being born, turning evil, and going back in time. But then again, her world is so far removed from ours that it doesn't matter. We can change the little things. We can change the things that happen today, to the people around us now. I mean, look up at the stars."

They both did, watching the bright dots spread across the sky, fading in the growing daylight.

"They're impossibly far away from us," Squall said. "Even if we got aboard the Ragnarok and flew towards the closest one, we would never reach it in our lifetimes. There are planets and stars and entire galaxies out there that we'll never see, and nothing we will ever do will bring us much closer to them."

Squall looked down to Rinoa. "But that doesn't matter. All those worlds out there, and all the generations that will come after us, they're distant ideas. We only know fragments about them, and we can change even less about them than that. But here and now still belong to us. No script made me kiss you. Fate isn't holding you in my arms. Destiny may have brought us to this moment, but we can still do whatever we want from here. If you want me to quit White SeeD, I'll take off my uniform now and pass on the mantle to someone else. We can go live in Winhill or something. Get a small little house and never see anyone outside our little village ever again."

"No, no," Rinoa said. She shook her head. "That's not what I want."

"But we could," Squall said. "If you wanted. Now, I want you to really think about it. I want you to know, without a doubt, that we still have a choice. I don't want you to do anything because you think it will be good for the future, or good for other generations. I want you to do what you want, right now."

She didn't take more than a heartbeat to respond.

"I want to go where you go," Rinoa said.

"And I want the same thing," Squall said. "As long as we're with the people we love, what else matters?"

This time, when they kissed, there was no surprise for either of them. The joining of their lips ran parallel to the joining of their hearts, their desires. Squall's White SeeD gloves entwined with the fingers in Rinoa's, and in that instant the future and the past were obliterated—all of time compressed into a single moment that would endure forever.

A single moment that contained only him, and only her.

Forever.

The End