7
CHAPTER 7 – THE PROPRIETOR
The candle on the wooden table burned all by its lonesome, casting long shadows across the floor of the tavern; at this late hour, there was no other light to contest its eminence. Laguna kept his eyes fixed to the dancing flame, hopelessly pining for it to shoo away the gloom that had fallen on his heart. He knew it was futile. The relief he sought would not come, no matter how many hours he kept sitting there. He'd already spent too many over the last two nights. His inability to sleep kept him from joining his equally distraught wife in bed.
He'd returned home days earlier from another routine excursion, the latest of many since he'd signed on with Timber Maniacs more than a year earlier. At his old friend's behest, he'd eventually found the courage to head back to the besieged city for a meeting with the chief editor. Despite whatever reservations he'd had at the time, the life of a travel journalist was finally his.
Raine had been nothing but supportive, and positively elated when he'd gotten the job. He knew it hadn't been easy for her to accept. Nor would it be for him to leave behind the two most important ladies in his life with each trip. And so, as a sign of his love and loyalty to her and Ellone, he'd followed up the bold move with yet another. Though he'd needed to take out a loan to afford the ring, it's dividends were paid immediately. Her teary-eyed look of joy as he'd proposed upon the rolling, moonlit bluffs was something no amount of money could buy.
Things had gone smoothly for a while. He would intermittently depart the village, no longer plagued by an influx of wild monsters, and freely explore regions of the continent he'd never seen. With each new locale, and each new article written, his reward was twofold: the elation of his wife and daughter each time he returned, and the means to support them. So they'd lived happily for more than a year.
Laguna finally had the personal fulfillment he'd always longed for. No longer had he ever felt the need to stop and wonder if he'd made the right decisions in his life. There was nothing more he could ask for, no hardship he couldn't overcome without them by his side. And therein lay his very dilemma. Now, seated in silence, his mind befuddled as he struggled to come up with a plan of action, he was well and truly lost. The eventuality he'd feared from the beginning had finally come.
A set of quickfire raps on the tavern door jerked him from his thoughts. He shot out of his chair, placing his hand on the table for balance. With a deep breath to compose himself, he crossed over, unfastened the deadbolt, and swung the door open. The brisk night air washed over him. There, standing in the tavern's porch lighting, was his nearest and dearest friend from a life left behind.
"I came as soon as I heard about the raid," Kiros said, dispensing with any pretense of formality. "Can I come in?"
"Sure."
The slender man's beaded dreadlocks swayed in the night gale as he made his way in and over to the candlelit table. Laguna quickly closed the door and followed. He'd been expecting Kiros to make an appearance at any time. Perhaps having someone to confide in would help him find the strength he needed, and the resolve to determine his next course of action.
[… even when I'm sleeping normally?]
He stumbled as he prepared to sit back down. Not since Kiros' first visit to Winhill more than a year ago had the strange feeling returned. He no longer doubted it was an omen of some kind. Good or bad, he wasn't yet sure.
"Everything looks like it's in one piece," Kiros swept his eyes around the tavern. "And I didn't see any damage to the rest of the town coming up the main drag. Is everyone okay?"
"Okay?" Laguna echoed.
He slumped back down into his seat. Unable to contain his frustration any longer, he slammed his fist down on the table.
"No, Kiros, everyone's not okay! They took Ellie, dammit!"
The table wobbled, coming to a rest as Kiros seized hold of its edges. The candle set in the center had miraculously stayed put. Though Laguna knew how unbecoming his outburst was, he couldn't help himself. He needed to vent.
"I'm… I'm sorry," he apologized. "It's just… how the hell am I supposed to deal with this?"
"Let's take things from the beginning, Laguna," Kiros softly spoke. "I'm shocked they actually came back. Didn't you say they already took every other young girl the first time?"
"Yeah."
"So, does that mean Adel didn't find a single one worthy? And why come back here if they figured they'd already cleaned the whole town out? It doesn't make any sense."
"What's there to make sense of?!" Laguna snapped, the tears beginning to well up in his eyes. "She's gone, and it's all my fault! All because I wasn't here to protect her!"
"You couldn't have known," Kiros tried to console him. "And what I'm saying is they couldn't have known she was still here. And even if they did, why go so far out of their way to kidnap this one little girl they missed the first time? That's what doesn't make sense to me. What reason would they have to do something like that?"
"I don't care what their reason was," he mewled. "I just… dammit, I don't know what to do anymore. Raine's been a complete wreck since I got home two days ago. She's barely been able to get out of bed. I'm trying my best to be there for her, but… well, I'm not holding up much better. Ellone meant the world to me. She was the closest thing I've ever had to a daughter. I loved her so, so much… and now she's gone forever."
"Stop talking like that!" Kiros chastised him, bringing his own hand down on the table. "She's not gone forever! Not yet, anyway. And if she really is that important to you, then you know exactly what you've got to do. You've got to pick yourself up, and go get her back."
"You think I don't know that? Believe me, there's nothing I'd love more. But if I leave… who'll take care of Raine?"
"She runs the local watering hole. There's got to be plenty of regulars who'd be happy to step up."
"Yeah, but…"
A hush fell over the bar. He knew Kiros was right. He cared so much for their sprightly little 5 year-old, and couldn't bear to go another day without the love and warmth she brought to his life. He knew in his heart it was the obligation of any man to protect his children. Despite Ellone not being his biological daughter, he'd come to care for her no differently. Such distinctions were meaningless to him. And yet, however fiercely his heart screamed for him to go racing off into the night, not stopping until he reached Esthar on the other side of the globe, his doubts kept him anchored to the table. Did noble intentions justify abandoning the woman he loved in her most vulnerable hour?
"Laguna," Kiros said to him. "Listen to me. I understand this is a choice no man should ever have to make. But if you don't get moving, if you stay here with Raine and try to pretend things will somehow turn out alright, then the two of you will never be happy again. You know it's true. With every moment wasted, the chances of you ever seeing Ellone again become more and more slim. So, if she really means that much to you, then now is the time to take action. We need to get ourselves into Esthar, any way we can."
"We?"
Laguna's eyes shot up from the table in surprise. Shrouded as his already dark features were by the shadows, he could still see Kiros' pursed lips curl into a smile.
"You don't think I'm gonna let you run straight into enemy territory by yourself, do you? Last time I did that… well, you ended up here. Who's going to make sure you don't get taken in by another pretty face?"
"So, even now, you still find a way to bust my balls," Laguna grumbled. He was suddenly torn between smirking at the comment, and pummeling him into the floor for its insensitivity.
"Only because I care. Hell, one mention of this to Ward, and I'm sure he'll drop everything to come along, too. Because you're our friend, Laguna."
His face became uncomfortably flush, owing to the candle, embarrassment, and pride all at once. It humbled him to know he had friends who would so gladly follow him to the ends of the earth.
Thank you, Kiros…
"Wait here," he told him as he rose from his chair. "I'll be right down."
He started for the stairs. Once on the steps, he took his time so as to stifle any excess creaking. He peeked his head up to peer through the gaps in the upstairs banister. Raine's outline was huddled up in their queen-sized bed. There she'd laid for virtually every waking moment of the last two days. The duffel bag by the bedside contained his clothes, toiletries, and other travel effects from his latest trip. He'd yet to unpack it; his disbelief over Ellone's kidnapping and concern for Raine had taken precedence. It now patiently waited for him to seize hold of its straps, and embark on the greatest adventure of his life thus far.
[Well, if these dreams keep up, they might at least give me a hint where she is nowadays.]
He was now convinced. The sensation had to be a cue that he was doing the right thing.
He carefully surmounted the last few steps, and crept across the carpeted floor to the bed. He stalled for a moment. His eyes were torn between the woman he loved, and the bag he would have to live out of for longer than he'd ever been away from Winhill. Finally, they shifted along the right-hand wall. A partition of drywall had been erected there, segmenting roughly a third of the formerly single-room top floor. Laguna, with the assistance of one of the local carpenters, had made the renovation after his and Raine's marriage, for the sake of giving Ellone her own room, and also allowing themselves the nighttime privacy they sought. Knowing she wasn't sleeping in there right now was sheer agony, his desire to return her there insurmountable.
He slung the bag over his left shoulder and strode over to his wife's side. In the faint moonlight shining through the window, her eyes were still visibly puffy. The remnants of the dinner he'd made for her sat on the nightstand, beside her most beloved photo of the three of them. No matter how much it pained him, nor the hurt she'd feel to wake up in the morning to find him gone, Kiros was right. The time for standing still was long past.
"Honey," he softly whispered. "I'm… I'm sorry. But I can't stay here. I have to go. I have to find Ellie. She means the world to me, and I'd happily give my life for hers if it came down to it. But I promise, it won't come to that. I will survive, and I will bring her back, no matter what. I love you."
He leaned over, and placed a tender kiss upon her cheek. He only hoped it wouldn't be for the last time. He righted himself, and rounded the bed back to the mahogany gun-cabinet. He retrieved his assault rifle from within, slinging it over his other shoulder, before unzipping the duffel bag and stuffing every spare ammunition cartridge inside. His preparations complete, he quietly closed the cabinet, and made for the stairs.
As he snuck on down, he turned back one last time to peer through the banister. He just barely managed to contain a gasp as he did so. Raine swung her legs out of the sheets to sit upright. She grabbed the picture on her nightstand, drawing it close. And as she spoke her last words to him, regardless of whether she knew he was listening, his resolve became unshakable.
"I believe in you…"
It appeared the dormitories hadn't been a significant front in the Garden's civil uprising; their halls were far less ravaged compared to the rest of the academy. All the same, few students passed Quistis by along her way. Most had by now awakened to begin their day, no differently than if their home were still rooted to the Alcaud Plains. With all classes and extracurricular activities canceled, their collective manpower would be put to use in repairing the damage done.
Scarcely 12 hours had passed since their unbelievable escape. Quistis had spent nearly every moment of it sound asleep. The last two days had without question been the most physically and mentally draining of her SeeD career thus far. She imagined it was no different for Squall. Now, standing outside his door, she briefly reconsidered if she ought to be disturbing him; perhaps a long rest would be more beneficial than any words of encouragement she could give.
No, what am I thinking? This isn't about me. I'm just here to make sure he keeps his promise, that's all.
She rapped hard on the door twice. A rustling kicked up on the other side, followed by a series of stumbling footsteps. The door swung open to reveal Squall, his eyes bleary and unfocused. He still wore his signature black jacket. The gaping hole torn through the leather under his right shoulder indicated he hadn't changed clothes from the previous night. Thoroughly exhausted though she'd been, Quistis had at least bothered to do as much, and donned her SeeD uniform with the morning's call.
"What is it?" he muttered.
"Just thought I'd swing by to check in," she replied nonchalantly. "Did you sleep in your clothes?"
"I guess so. I collapsed into bed the moment I got back."
"I don't blame you. This last week's been a nightmare. I still can't believe we survived. But, we should be safe for the time being."
"The fact that the missiles came," he pivoted, his tone turning dour. "Does that mean the others…?"
The question hung in the air between them. Quistis had already considered its ramifications; that the bombardment had arrived at all was reason enough to believe Zell, Selphie, and Irvine's infiltration had failed. Still, she hoped for their safety. With the Garden now adrift on the sea, they were completely cut off from the HD cable transmissions network. There was no longer any way for them to know the current state of world affairs.
"You're worried about them, too?" she finally broke the awkward silence.
"I wouldn't say worried," he brushed away her sentimentality. "But… well, shouldn't I feel some responsibility? I'm the one who gave the order. If they were captured and killed, then it's all down to my failing as a leader."
"That's quite a change coming from you. Didn't you say before that you don't want to carry anyone else's burden? The night of the ball, remember? Maybe now you can understand how I was feeling then."
"Was there something you wanted?"
Quistis frowned. Apparently he hadn't taken kindly to her re-opening of old wounds.
"You promised me that you'd let Dr. Kadowaki take a look at you when we got back," she reminded him. "About these fainting spells you've been having, remember?"
"That… might not be such a bad idea," he conceded.
"Glad you agree. Then, let's get going. And maybe afterwards we can have a nice chat over some tea in the cafeteria."
"One thing at a time."
He ducked back inside to retrieve his shoes and gunblade. Though the uprising had subsided, there was no guarantee peace had returned overnight. So long as the Thorns were still among them, traversing the Garden without a weapon was a risk, hence Quistis' coiled metal whip and GF sphere on her belt. His outfitting complete, Squall stepped out, and locked the door behind him. They proceeded down the hall towards the atrium.
"You wouldn't happen to know where Rinoa went off to?" Quistis asked along the way. "I went back to the infirmary last night, but she and the headmaster were gone."
"You're asking the wrong person," he responded. "Don't worry about it. The headmaster's probably set her up with a guest room."
"Funny. And here I was starting to think you were actually concerned for her."
"Haven't we been over this? I told you, it's only because she was my-"
He cut himself off, halting in his tracks. His eyes stayed trained forward to the atrium entrance ahead. Quistis turned her own, and likewise stalled. A pair of Thorns stood to either side of the corridor's end. They stepped away from the walls to stand in their path.
"Operative No. 41269, Squall Leonhart," the one on the left read from a small electronic tablet. "Operative No. 39425, Quistis Trepe. Is that correct?"
"It is," Quistis cautiously responded. Her hand itched to take hold of her whip.
"And there are two more who were dispatched to Timber alongside Leonhart, operatives Dincht and Tilmitt. Where are they now?"
"Back in Galbadia," Squall answered. "Currently MIA. What for?"
"The Garden Master has requested your presence immediately. Please come with us."
"And if we refuse?" Quistis rebutted. "Who is this 'Garden Master', anyway? Headmaster Cid is the only authority we answer to!"
"How naive we are," the Thorn menaced. "Your beloved headmaster has retained command of this Garden only because the Garden Master has allowed him to do so. As of yesterday, that privilege has been revoked. You will comply, or face the consequences. Now, follow!"
The robed man spun around towards the atrium. His comrade stepped aside to allow the two SeeDs passage. Quistis turned her head to Squall, with whom she shared an apprehensive glance before proceeding forward. The second Thorn relieved himself from the wall as they passed, bringing up the rear. They all continued into the atrium, and up the short flight of steps to the central platform. Students swarmed all along the inner and outer walkways, many setting up scaffolding by which to begin conducting repairs. The Thorn at the head led them around to the southern-most elevator, the very same they'd taken down the night before.
"So," Squall lightly muttered to Quistis. "Even you don't know anything about this 'Garden Master'?"
"Nothing," she admitted. "I've never heard of anyone with higher authority than the headmaster."
Compared to everything else that had transpired in the last two days, it wasn't hard to believe. Xu must have been in the know; the way she'd spoken to the Thorns the night before implied some familiarity. Perhaps it was only her and the headmaster who'd been privy to the secret. Nothing about it had ever been disclosed to Quistis since she'd become a SeeD. And yet, as the shattered elevator doors slid shut, and the Thorn swiped his keycard across the reader and pressed the down arrow, a sinking feeling in her gut told her she already knew their destination.
The lift descended, just as when she and Squall had the previous night. The air became thick with tension and the stench of corrosion, with only the elevator's light to guide them down. It soon came to a stop at precisely the juncture she'd anticipated: the muraled black and gold doors they'd seen the first time. They parted with the lift's chime.
A long red carpet extended into a wide, dark chamber. Quistis' breath caught in her throat. A congregation of golden headpieces popped out against the gloom, no less than 20 in all. It was by far the largest number she'd ever seen in one place. It wouldn't have been unreasonable to assume every member of the sect was present.
"Go," the escort to their rear ordered.
He shoved Quistis forward out of the lift. She begrudgingly obeyed, making her way with Squall down the carpet. At their approach, another pair split off from the assembly.
"Your weapons," the one nearest Quistis spoke coldly.
He outstretched his arms to her, as the second made the same gesture to Squall. Vastly outnumbered as they were, she complied. She hesitantly unfastened the whip and GF sphere from her belt, and relinquished them. The Thorn took her effects, and abruptly turned away, as did the other with Squall's gunblade.
With another shove from behind, they were ushered further down the carpet. An imposing mechanical effigy bulged from the wall at the end. Its rounded curvature resembled a massive cocoon, decorated with the same gold gilded patterns as the elevator doors. Two faintly pulsing blue orbs were fixed to either side of the synthetic pod; they resembled a pair of gleaming eyes staring right into her soul. The lead Thorn stood before it, his arms raised in reverence.
"Master! We present to you the only confirmed surviving SeeDs from the assassination."
A mechanized hiss followed. Billowing steam seeped from beneath the pod's frontal plating. With a groan, the metal cocoon's exterior lifted upwards. A bright fluorescent light from within swept across chamber as it continued to rise. All around, the gathered Thorns fell to one knee with their heads bowed. Quistis shielded her eyes against the light, squinting hard through the gaps in her fingers. The shadow of a large, rotund figure slowly came into focus. At last, the brightness dimmed to a manageable level, leaving her and Squall standing face to face with the enigmatic Garden Master.
Her mouth fell open. Xu's scathing words from the night before had been spot on; he did resemble a toad. His sickly, pale-yellow skin and deformed cranial structure notwithstanding, it was the bulbous proportions of his chin that most revolted her; it was akin to a massive uvula drooping all the way down to his upper chest. His gut positively bulged from his black and gold ceremonial robes. Unbelievably, his hands were bigger still. Their palms alone were at least the size of his head, and the thick tendrils that extended from them far beyond the bounds of human anatomy. Indeed, he wasn't human at all.
Is he… a Shumi?
Although she'd never met one, the Garden Master's physiology matched her biology studies to a tee. The yellow skin tone, large hands, and stout height were all accounted for. Only the sheer amount of body fat had thrown her off. Theirs was said to be a humble, hardworking, and peaceful civilization. They lived in the northernmost climes of Trabia, far from the prying eyes of humanity. It was supposedly rare for one to stray so far from their homeland. That this one had established himself as such a ruthless, domineering force within the Garden was even further outside the norm.
"You stand before Garden Master Norg," the head Thorn announced to them. "Proprietor of Balamb Garden, and the one true authority of SeeD."
Quistis glanced to Squall beside her. He too looked every bit as stunned. An unintelligible guttural noise drew her attention back to the portly Shumi; it sounded halfway between a groan and a gurgle. His beady black eyes washed over them.
"Which of you is the leader?"
His booming bass timbre echoed through the hall. With a quick inhale to calm herself, Quistis took the initiative, just as when they'd received the assassination orders from Headmaster Martine. Although Squall had been his team's leader, it was obvious this would require a more delicate, experienced touch.
"I was the highest ranking member of the squad," she explained. "Operative No. 39425, Quistis Tr-"
"I do not care who you are!" Norg bellowed. "If you are the leader, then give me your report on the sorceress!"
Quistis reeled in shock. Squall kept still as a statue close by. The assembly of Thorns had yet to rise from their knees, none appearing particularly perturbed by the outburst. It was surely nothing new for them.
"Answer him quickly!" the one at the head supplied his own order. "And be concise!"
It's going to be a sad report…
"We failed in our mission to assassinate Sorceress Edea," Quistis began. "Following the Timber team's evacuation from the city, confirmation of the orders was made at Galbadia Garden. Per Balamb and Galbadia's request, we were supplied with a sniper, and sent on our-"
"Balamb and Galbadia's request?!" the Garden Master roared again.
Another series of guttural noises followed. Thoroughly enraged, he slammed one of his massive balled fists against the interior of his pod.
"Damn you, Martine! I swear, I'll wring the life from you yet!"
"I… I don't understand," Quistis stammered, unsure what it was she'd said to anger him.
"You were fooled!" he responded. "Those orders were never meant to be carried out by SeeD! They were to be executed by Galbadia Garden operatives. But that sly weasel Martine used you so he could get away scot-free if the operation failed, and place all the blame on me!"
"What?! That… that can't…"
She frantically cast her mind back to that day. It had struck her as odd that Squall and his team would be given a new assignment when they'd yet to complete their original one. She also recalled having opened the portfolio to find so much of the mission file redacted. Most worrisome had been General Caraway's seeming lack of a contingency plan for them; it suddenly made so much more sense when she considered that they were being used all along. One by one, the pieces clicked together.
"I have known of the sorceress' alliance with Galbadia for some time," Norg elucidated. "Martine has served as my eyes and ears in the government for more than a decade. It was through him that I learned of her secret dealings with Deling, one month ago. I understood the threat she would pose to this Garden if she were to take control of the Galbadian military. And so, I'd begun plotting this assassination even before the Dollet siege, only to be fought tooth and nail at every turn by that spineless coward, Cid!"
Quistis listened on in wide-eyed amazement. The machinations that had been going on behind the scenes for so long beggared belief.
"I decided to commission Galbadia Garden to better cover up our involvement. We even had the details hand-delivered to Martine, to ensure they couldn't be intercepted with a digital transmission. I took each and every precaution to ensure nothing could be traced back to this Garden. He was to assign a team of top-level cadets hand-picked by myself… aside from the sniper. That one I left up to Cid, in exchange for his cooperation on the matter. He practically begged me for it. He said if I was going to give the order to have his wife taken out, then it was only fair he decide who pulls the trigger."
In that moment, Quistis stopped breathing. Time ground to a halt. The world as she knew it stopped spinning. There was simply no more mind-bending revelation she'd ever been privy to in her life. That it had come so casually, as a mere passing mention, was almost too much to handle.
The headmaster and the sorceress… are married?!
"I am anything but unreasonable," Norg continued, unabated. "And even that cadet ended up being at the top of his class. But it no longer matters. Your team just happened to show up right before the mission was to be carried out, and that bastard Martine used you instead! He stabbed me in the back, and then went off the grid the moment things fell apart! Not even a warning about that missile strike that nearly killed us all!"
You're welcome.
"Something must be done at once to calm the sorceress' anger. I'd planned to offer Cid's head as a show of goodwill, but the SeeDs sided with him! How dare they defy me?! It was I who put up the money to found this academy! This is my Garden!"
"No!" Quistis blurted out; she could no longer contain herself. "It's not just your Garden!"
"Then whose is it?" Norg scoffed. "Is it Cid and Edea's? That pathetic married couple's?! I think not! And if I cannot appease that witch with the head of her estranged husband, then I can offer her the next best thing: the heads of the SeeDs who tried and failed to kill her. Take them away!"
Quistis spun around. The Thorns all rose from their knees, pulling sharpened knives from their robes as they began closing in. Her eyes darted from one end of the chamber to the other as she mulled over her options at light-speed. Without her whip or Guardian Force, hand-to-hand combat was her only recourse. Although every student's standard physical training included the basics of martial arts, the odds were clearly not in her and Squall's favor. Strangely, her former student hadn't moved an inch; he kept his focus oriented squarely on the Garden Master.
"You're making a big mistake," the young man in black finally spoke. "Your plan is only a temporary fix. Even if you do offer us up to her, she'll eventually come for you again, with the strength of even more conquered nations at her disposal. You won't stand a chance."
"Hold your tongue, you sniveling little worm," Norg huffed. "Your sacrifice will buy me all the time I'll need to come up with a new insurance policy against her."
"And what if I could give you one right now?"
The robed mob scarcely 3 feet from his back suddenly stopped in their tracks. They'd evidently been caught off guard by the proposition, as was Quistis. She turned to Squall. A chill ran down her spine as she saw the look on his face; his blue eyes, normally so distant and lost in thought, were positively menacing, his lips curled into an unsettling, knowing smirk.
"I'm listening," Norg yielded the floor. He began pensively tapping his mammoth index finger on the outside of his pod.
"It's very simple," Squall continued; Quistis did not take kindly to his conniving tone. "The Galbadian military may be under her command, but no one in its ranks is pleased with her seizing control. You know this as well as I do… maybe even more so."
"I do," the Garden Master insisted. "Come to the point quickly, before I lose my patience!"
"The point is, it's an unstable situation. The army's chain of command isn't so flimsy that it can be undone in a day or two. Until that transition is complete, there's going to be major tension between the sorceress and the top brass. That's your window of opportunity. If you could sow even further discord between them now, it would likely lead to a civil uprising, just like the one you've already started in this Garden. All you need is the right leverage."
"And what kind of leverage might that be?" Norg mused. His curiosity seemed to have been piqued.
"The kind that provides a conflict of interest between the sorceress and the army, and potentially turns them against one another. What you need is a high-priority hostage. Someone with a connection to a very high ranking official in the Galbadian army… say, a familial connection."
"You wouldn't dare!"
Quistis' shriek ripped through the chamber. Emotionally distraught as she already was, Squall's implication had now shattered any stability she had left. It was unthinkable, disgusting, and utterly reprehensible. She stared him down in disbelief. A raucous fit of laughter escaped Norg's throat the next second, chasing away her scream.
"And am I to assume you know someone who fits that description?" the wicked Shumi chuckled.
"She's in this Garden right now," Squall said dryly, paying Quistis' outburst no mind. "Swear you'll let us go free, and I'll bring her down right away."
"No!" she objected as she stepped right in front of him. "What is wrong with you?! I'm not just going to stand here and let you use her as a bargaining chip to save your own life!"
"It's the only way. It's just like I told you that night: 'Everyone has to take care of themselves'."
His eyes stared straight into hers; they'd returned to that same, distant emptiness she knew too well. Tears began welling up in her own, just as they had on the ballroom balcony a lifetime ago. However hard it had been for her to come to terms with, she'd genuinely believed Rinoa meant something to him. That he had it in him to condemn her to such a cruel fate was beyond the pale. It was a sign that Quistis no longer knew him at all. Or perhaps she never had. The tears finally stared running down her cheeks.
"You're no better than Seifer," she sobbed. "You're a monster!"
"Just my kind of monster," Norg chortled with delight. "And a shrewd businessman at that. Consider it a deal. You have one hour to bring me this 'high-priority hostage'. Your comrade stays here as collateral. If you're not back here within that time, we slit her throat. You two! Escort him back upstairs, and stay with him at all times. If he tries anything funny, kill him where he stands."
Squall gave the SeeD salute to the Garden Master, and started back down the red carpet to the elevator. Quistis could barely stomach to watch him go with the two Thorns. She fell to her knees in heartbreak, unable to cease her bawling.
Where did I go so wrong?