8

CHAPTER 8 – LEGACY OF BETRAYAL

The murmuring about the cafeteria had died down since the morning breakfast rush. Most students had since made their way out to assist with repairs. Only a few small groups lingered behind, leaving Rinoa at leisure to pore over her reading material in peace. She lifted her eyes from the book's pages, drained the last dregs of her coffee, and glanced out the nearby window. The sloshing waves stretched on to the horizon, seemingly with no end. It was no less unbelievable now than the night before.

She'd reluctantly obeyed Squall's command to stay with the headmaster. As they'd waited in the operating room, she'd tried to get an explanation from him about the bizarre uprising. Cid had stayed mum on the subject; a conflict of interest between him and the Garden's proprietor was all he was willing to divulge. As for her contract, he assured her he'd be happy to oblige, provided they survived both the battle and the prospective missile strike.

The detonations had violently rocked the entire Garden. She'd huddled herself into a ball, fully expecting the ceiling to come crumbling down on top of her. It wasn't until the commandant's announcement sounded over the intercom that she'd dared open her eyes. After their crash into the sea, she'd helped the headmaster to his feet, and followed him out of the infirmary and up to his quarters.

There they'd discovered the looming metal pillar, and the control center for the newly mobile Garden atop. Xu was nowhere in sight, nor Squall and Quistis. After a moment of awestruck silence, Cid had ducked into his office. He'd returned with a keycard for Rinoa. As opposed to the guest room on the 16th floor she'd had for the night of the ball, this time she would be sleeping in the dormitories. He'd explained it would be safer for her there; the Thorns' living quarters were also situated on the upper levels. She'd taken her leave just as the commandant returned with a crew of technicians.

Her sleep had been adequate; a mattress and pillow of any kind were welcome after such a grueling day. Still, her restless mind roused her several times throughout the night. She'd eventually gotten up at just after eight-o'-clock, and made her way to the cafeteria for breakfast. Afterwards, she'd circled the atrium to the library, taking care not to get in the way of the repair efforts. She'd made for the mythology section, scanned the shelves, and selected a volume entitled 'The Whereabouts of Hyne'.

The insert summary explained the book was first written nearly 500 years ago by a historical scholar named Temu. It was a comprehensive account of the sorceress legends through the ages, and their alleged connection to the mythical deity, Hyne. It was hardly light reading, but nothing Rinoa couldn't handle; the sorts of texts her father had compelled her to study in her youth had given her a solid literary foundation. She'd started poring over it at one of the reading desks, until the exhaustion set in once again. She desperately needed more caffeine to keep her awake. The pigtailed girl at the front desk hadn't even asked to see her student ID when she'd checked out the book; clearly, this was no time to be hung up on minutia.

There she'd sat in the cafeteria for the last hour, working her way through the old scholarly text. If she were to contribute to the fight in any meaningful way, it would do her good to brush up on what little information there was on the sorceress' power. Though treated as folklore in print, her own experience inclined her to believe there was much more to these fairy tales.

The origin of the sorceresses, or witches as they were more commonly called by the people of the time, was thought to be alluded to in the age-old legend of Hyne. It was written that with the formation of the planet from the celestial ether, so too had the first savage life emerged from the primordial sea. The great god Hyne had set about cleansing the world of these beasts with his all-powerful magic, and named himself its governor. He built a throne for himself atop a tall mountain from which to oversee all, yet there stood another impeding his view of the eastern sea. He'd become too tired from his relentless battles to destroy it. With what magic he could still muster, he forged a set of living tools to tend the land in his stead, and put them to work. This was the alleged origin of the human race.

When they'd finally chiseled away the mountain, the people asked for Hyne's guidance. But the god had fallen into a deep sleep from which they could not wake him. With no one to guide them, they set about molding the land to suit their own needs. They multiplied over the ages, spreading far and wide. When Hyne at last awoke from his slumber, he was startled by how many humans there now were, and the changes they'd made to his world. He sought to reduce their number by striking down their newborn children. This enraged the people, turning them against their creator. Despite his almighty power, the humans had grown too numerous to quell altogether.

And so, Hyne had broached a truce: he would give unto them half of his own body and power as a peace offering. The people agreed. However, they quickly began to fight over who among them deserved to partake of the god's magic. Disparate clans were formed, establishing as many nations across the land. A long, bloody war began, with the eventual victors being the clan of the 'dark king' Zebalga. With the half of Hyne's body in their possession, the king and his advisers convened to command its power. And yet, no matter the methods they employed, it would not obey their commands.

Zebalga then summoned the wise Sage Vascaroon for his consultation, who determined that the 'half of Hyne's body' was in fact his corrupt, cast off skin, which held no power about it. Humanity had been deceived by the god, and turned against one another for their defiance. Enraged, the Zebalga clan vowed to hunt down and destroy the lingering magic of Hyne, wherever he may have hid himself away.

The story was undeniably one more steeped in allegory than history, and was likely even an amalgamation of various stories which originated around the same time. Its connection to the later sorceress legends was stipulated to be the 'magic of Hyne' from which his 'cast off skin' had been shed. It eventually came to be believed that Hyne had concealed his power in the bodies of chosen women. Such rumors continued to spread across the land over thousands of years. Witch hunts sprang up at the mere mention of any female claimed to have shown unnatural abilities, with innumerable executions carried out for generations prior to Temu's writing.

The earliest surviving account of a sorceress dated back more than 1,000 years, to the reign of King Odin in ancient Centra. A woman said by the common folk to have magical powers was summoned before the king, himself supposedly a descendant of King Zebalga. He decreed she be put to death for her treachery, to which she pleaded with him for an accord. She made him a proposition: in exchange for her life, she would use her magic to enchant the king's prized scimitar, Zantetsuken. Intrigued, Odin acceded. At her command, the sword became a divine instrument with the power to slice through any and all earthly matter. In return, the king stood by his word, and even appointed her to his council.

His reign continued for a while longer. Yet as time went on, his health gradually worsened. No matter the healing he sought from his new aide, nothing seemed to avail him. It soon progressed to where he could scarcely leave his palace. Unbeknownst to all, the sorceress' enchantment had been a curse; Zantetsuken's newfound power came at the cost of the life force absorbed from its wielder with each slice. As he continued to make use of it indiscriminately, King Odin was slowly dying.

One night, when he no longer could rise from his throne, he called forth his council for a meeting to determine the kingdom's future. Seizing the moment, the sorceress wrested the king's sword from him, and cleaved him from head to toe in a single swing. In her vengeful rage however, the blade's power had torn through more than Odin's body and throne. A gaping rift in the very fabric of the world had been opened by the slash. A mysterious, pale-skinned swordsman in tattered red rags had stepped forward from beyond, and engaged in battle with her before the council.

The unknown warrior had countered the woman's magic with spellcraft of his own, and soon overwhelmed her. He mercilessly carved her limb from limb with his dual blades. Still, she clung to life. It was then that she revealed to all present the terrible destiny her kind had been condemned to: until her holy gift could be passed on to a suitable successor, the power a sorceress held would leave her unable to rest in peace. The council dared not subject one of the kingdom's young girls to such a fate. With the assistance of their enigmatic savior, they escorted the captive sorceress out of the city under cover of night, and made for the coast. There, she was given a live water burial, her still-breathing remains sunk to the bottom of the ocean. As repayment for his service, the swordsman took up Zantetsuken as his own, and disappeared into legend.

Although Odin's name was listed in the Centran historical record of kings, the tale held little credence besides. Even at only 500 years from Temu's chronicle, the scholar claimed there was no evidence to support it. It was more likely a natural illness that had taken Odin's life. The legend could then have been propagated by his advisers as a means to deify their ruler, and ensure his legacy lived on.

Rinoa didn't know what to make of either story; such folktales were far from the sort of reading material her father had foisted on her. What little she knew of sorceresses had come from the war. Just as then, one such woman had usurped control of an entire country with the execution of its leader. Edea now carried on a long legacy of betrayal, allegedly set in motion by Hyne with his first great deception of mankind. Rulers of renown had been served their reckoning at the hands of these witches. A heavy weight fell on her heart. Anyone so conniving and mighty would be a fearsome foe, indeed.

"Rinoa!"

Her eyes shot up from the book. She turned them towards the call to see Squall working his way across the cafeteria. She rose to meet him, placing the book on the table. The tear in his jacket told her he hadn't changed clothes since last night. She was in no position to judge; she was still dressed in her duster sweater, torn ragged by the lizard creatures. It was all she had. She made a mental note to ask Cid for a uniform the next time she saw him.

"Hey," she said. "Where's Quistis? I can't believe you two actually-"

"She's waiting for us," he cut her off. "I need you to come with me, right now."

"What for?"

His serious tone of voice unsettled her. His steely eyes were no more reassuring.

"Just come on. It's important."

Rinoa hesitated. His refusal to tell her what was wrong put her on edge. Regardless, the last two days had given her no reason not to trust his judgment. She nodded, and swiveled back around to grab the book on the table. She was forcibly pulled back into place. Her eyes went wide as Squall suddenly wrapped his arms around her. Instantly, her nervousness became incredulity, not merely for the hug itself, but how completely out of character it was for him. She stayed frozen in his embrace, deliberating whether or not to push him away.

"S… Squall?" she finally eked out.

"I'm sorry," he whispered into her ear, not letting go. "I wish you'd never gotten involved… and that it didn't have to come to this."

She lingered in his arms, thoroughly confused, before she finally brought hers around him to reciprocate. They stood clinging to one another by the window for a time, until Squall finally released his hold and backed away. She stared into his eyes, wondering what had possessed him to do something like that. There were no answers in his blank stare.

She pivoted back around, picked up her book, and stored it in her rear pouch. She then reached for her empty coffee cup, pushed in her chair, and followed after Squall. After a brief detour to throw the cup away, they made for the exit. Her breath caught in her throat as they neared. A pair of robed faculty stood waiting for them.

"This is the one?" the first spoke to Squall. "Know that if the Master deems this a waste of his time, the consequences will be severe."

"I'm sure he'll be more than satisfied," he answered.

"Then, so be it. Relieve her of her effects."

"Squall?" Rinoa anxiously said as the second Thorn moved in. "What's going on?"

"I told you, I'm sorry," he muttered as the man began patting her down. "Just cooperate with them, and you'll be safe."

His words gave her no comfort. Before she knew it, her storage pouch had been confiscated. Satisfied, the lead Thorn turned around, and started back to the atrium. A pit gathered in her stomach as she was marched down the hall. They wrapped around the outer ring to the ruined directory, up to the central platform, and into one of the glass elevators. As the door closed and the lift began to lower, she felt a very real fear take hold. She kept her eyes trained to Squall as they descended. He kept his own trained forward, and did not so much as glance back.

The lift stopped in front of a pair of elegant muraled doors. They opened to a wide chamber crowded with assembled Thorns. As she stepped out after Squall, she noticed Quistis further down the stretch of red carpet. She was surrounded on all sides by a sub-set of the robed aides, all armed with knives. Her mounting dread became disgust as she finally noticed the bulbous, yellow creature at the end. She and Squall were led to stand before him at Quistis' side. Rinoa locked eyes with hers, puffy and red.

"Quistis," she began in a shrill whisper. "What's happen-"

"Silence!" the nearest Thorn roared. "You shall speak only when Master Norg addresses you!"

She clenched her jaw, and turned her eyes up to the hideous, toad-like creature in his metal pod. The Garden Master's beady black eyes swept over her. He brought one of his massive fingers to just under his grotesque, dangling chin, stroking it in contemplation. Seconds passed in total silence. She didn't dare break eye contact with him for fear of showing disrespect. A gurgle escaped his throat the next moment.

"Is this not the same girl who was standing beside Edea on the broadcast?" he spoke in a deep, booming voice.

"I present to you, Rinoa Caraway," Squall introduced her. "Daughter of General Caraway of the Galbadian army."

The Garden Master immediately burst into a heaving fit of laughter. Rinoa reeled back as the reverberations bounced off the walls.

"Caraway's daughter?" Norg smiled sickly. "Is this true?"

She had no idea what kind of situation she'd just been pushed into, nor if telling the truth was the right move. She glanced again to Squall for any kind of cue. Nothing. Having already been outed, there was nothing for her to gain by denying it.

"It… it is," she stammered.

Another fit of laughter from the Garden Master followed, its reason seemingly known to all but her.

"I must say, this might just be the greatest gift I've ever received," he smiled, turning his attention back to Squall. "Consider your debt paid in full. As promised, you and your comrade are free to go."

"Our weapons?" Squall asked.

His gaze pivoted off to the side. Following his line of sight, Rinoa saw a pair of Thorns holding his gunblade and Quistis' whip.

"They will be delivered to your quarters within the next few days. I'm a very cautious man, you understand."

"I'd expect nothing less," Squall acceded. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you. Let's go, Quistis."

He turned around, and started back to the elevator. As Rinoa watched him go, she realized the congregation of Thorns were now slowly advancing on her from all sides.

"Squall?!" she called out to him. "What's going on?!"

No response; he didn't break stride as he continued down the carpet. She frantically whipped her head to Quistis, and ducked back as her arm came flying out.

"Rinoa!" she shouted as she stepped forward to shield her. "I'm sorry. I know we've had our differences… and maybe I was too harsh on you before. I'm not asking you to forgive me. But I'm not about to just walk away and let Squall do this to you!"

The Thorns kept inching forward, knives held at the ready. The Garden Master chuckled with mirth to their backs. Though Rinoa could attest to Quistis' hand-to-hand prowess, she doubted she could handle them all unarmed. If only she'd had the foresight to keep Squall's magical sphere on her person, rather than tucked in her now confiscated storage pouch. Putting her back to Quistis', she readied herself for the hopeless struggle to come.

Suddenly, a shimmering purple energy barrier flashed around them. The Thorns stumbled to a halt as it sparkled, and faded into infrared. Rinoa blinked her eyes to be sure she hadn't imagined it. Before she could ponder it any further, an intense orange flicker by the elevator caught her attention. She squinted through the robed mob towards the intensifying light. Instantly, the reason for the hug became clear.

The fireball shot down the carpet at breakneck speed. Rinoa flinched as the blast hit the shielding. It reflected off the magical barrier, diffusing in a semi-circular wave of searing flames. The anguished cries of more than 20 men ripped through the chamber as their robes were set alight. Those not charred on the spot were sent scrambling. They fell to the ground, desperately rolling to put out the flames. Norg's enraged bellowing met her ears from behind. She looked on in awe, until she was finally snapped back to her senses by Quistis; she grabbed her hand, and hurriedly pulled her off to the side. Squall charged back into the fray. He sidestepped and shoved aside the flailing human pyres en route to the one with his gunblade.

"As soon as the coast's clear, I want you to make a break for the elevator!" Quistis hysterically instructed her. "Do you understand? Let us handle this."

Rinoa nodded, and watched as she raced back into battle. Squall had retrieved his sword, and set to work on the Thorns still standing. One after another fell to his blade. Within 10 seconds or so, Quistis had retrieved her whip and joined him. By then, only four were left. With as many more slashes and lashes, the confrontation drew to a close.

Flames billowed from the many incinerated corpses strewn across the hall, the robes of those not still alight blackened or bloodstained. Norg remained stationary in his pod. His gaping maw hung open as he looked on at the utter annihilation of his minions.

"You have nowhere to run!" Squall roared to him. "Accept your defeat, and we'll let you go the moment we hit land!"

Rinoa watched with bated breath; she stood in the midst of history in the making. For the second time in 3 days, the head of one of the world's mightiest military forces had fallen victim to a conniving act of betrayal. Not at the hands of a sorceress, but a soldier with every ounce of wit and subterfuge. Norg let out another gurgle, this time clearly born out of seething rage.

"You!" he bellowed. "You think you're such a crafty little miscreant, don't you?! You think you can just steal my life's work away from me like this?! This is my Garden! Its history begins and ends with me!"

He drew back one of his hands into the pod. It returned a moment later with a small metal orb clutched between his finger and thumb.

"Did you really think I would approve of the entire student body being trained with those spheres, and not keep one for myself?! And what a shame that unlike my kind, you human scum can't breathe underwater. I'll sink this Garden to the bottom of the ocean and start anew!"

A shimmering aura of deep blue light burst into prominence around Norg. It then flew from his grasp to land directly in front of the wide-eyed Squall. He backpedaled away from the light as it rapidly expanded. Once he'd put enough distance between himself and the energy, he sheathed his sword, and raised his own hand before him. A fiery orange engulfed him from head to toe, just as the brilliant white that had come over Selphie on the train, when she'd summoned her green rabbit. The frontal plating of Norg's pod began to lower on the other side, shielding him from the impending conflict.

The flames leapt from Squall's hand, twirling and dancing amid the fires still blazing all around the chamber. Before them, Norg's own fast materializing creature now threatened to touch the ceiling. A pair of blinding flashes forced Rinoa to shield her eyes. When she opened them again, two hulking monsters had freshly materialized before her.

A muscular, horned demon stood on Squall's side; its crimson mane was like a lion's, appearing all the more brilliant courtesy of the surrounding fires. Before Norg's sealed pod, a towering blue sea serpent had arisen from the ether. Its wide maw and flared snout resembled a dragon's. A pair of jagged, wing-shaped fins extended from either side of its long body. It was roughly three times the size of Squall's demon, a good 30 feet from its head to its coiled tail by Rinoa's estimation.

The horned beast dropped to all fours, and viciously charged ahead. It leapt high into the air, its razor-sharp claws digging into its foe's scaly exterior with surprising ease. The leviathan screeched. It began thrashing all about to throw its attacker off. The demon held fast, and before long, started climbing along against the constant turbulence. Rinoa kept her back pressed against the wall for dear life. Her better judgment told her to heed Quistis' order and make for the elevator. Her fear kept her rooted to the spot, regardless.

The demon's claws eventually gave way; it tumbled from the serpent's body to land before its summoner. Squall stayed frozen to the spot with his arm outstretched. His face remained tense as he fought to keep his familiar materialized. The beast rose to its hind feet with a roar. Searing balls of flame quickly gathered in both its hands. The serpent reared its head back in response, and opened its maw wide. What shot forth from its mouth was not another screech, but a torrential stream. The surge drenched the fire demon on the spot, extinguishing the flames gathering in its claws and those still licking at the bodies of the Thorns all around. The water reached Rinoa's ankles within seconds, its sudden chill causing her to jolt in place.

As the leviathan ceased its assault, a shimmer of dissipating light flashed at the spot where the demon stood. Squall had fallen to his knees; the concentration he'd required had been broken by his own need to shield himself from the flood. He was visibly exhausted, and certainly in no shape to face down the monster before him. It screeched again; the piercing cry echoed through the flooded chamber as it prepared to swoop in for the kill.

Just then, another flash of light exploded. Rinoa squinted her eyes through the glare, to see a slender, feminine figure suddenly take shape beside the collapsed SeeD. The obfuscation cleared to reveal a naked humanoid woman. She was clearly anything but human in appearance; her skin was pale blue, offset by elegant patterns in a darker shade cascading down her body, and a pair of flowing yellow tendrils on either side of her face. What accounted for her hair was made up of three drooping appendages akin to flowing drapery. Quistis stood a ways behind with her own arms outstretched.

The blue woman arched her back, and raised her hands to the ceiling. A gleaming sphere of energy materialized in her grasp. It whistled and squealed as it grew more potent, becoming every bit as bright as the light she'd emerged from. The serpent lunged forward to snap her up. She unleashed the power just as it reached her. The sphere diffused into a blast which enveloped the creature's entire elongated body. It was forcibly halted in mid-strike, instantaneously frozen solid in a block of ice. The water below became a thick sheet. Distanced as she was, Rinoa could still feel it turn deathly cold around her ankles.

The ice apparition charged forward. She smashed clear through the frozen leviathan, bursting it into dozens of fragmented shards. The shock-wave rocked the entire chamber, followed by another as she slammed into the Garden Master's frozen-over pod. Its metal facade crumbled away to reveal Norg, now quivering in abject terror; he surely wouldn't need another warning to accept defeat. The battle had been decided. The serpent's remains within the ice shimmered and faded from existence. So too did the icy woman.

"H-How?" he gasped in shock. "This can't be… this can't be!"

The stout, yellow toad hoisted himself up from the pod. He tumbled over its lip and onto the frozen stretch of lake with a thud. He righted himself, and hysterically waddled his way into the water. Rinoa's heart sunk as she realized he was headed for her.

"All my money," he wheezed. "More than a decade of my life… I won't let it all be for nothing!"

Given his plodding, sluggish pace, she could easily outrun him. He'd clearly become too accustomed to his pod over the years. As she looked past him however, there was no need; the swordsman in black was closing in fast.

Seconds later, the blade was mercilessly thrust into Norg's back. It exited through his gut with a spray of violet blood. He gagged and gurgled sickeningly, as yet more unnaturally colored vital fluid bubbled up from his mouth, and trickled down over his elegant ceremonial robes. He helplessly groped for whatever he could grab hold of with his enormous hands. Alas, every indulgence he'd ever known had slipped from him. With one last grim, bloodied gag, so too did his life.

Squall finally pulled the blade out, letting the corpse topple face-first into the water. Rinoa cautiously approached him. Unsettled as she was by the brutality, she was grateful he'd taken the initiative all the same. Above all, she was glad he hadn't actually intended to sell her out to the vile creature.

"Rinoa!" Quistis called her name as she drew near. "Are you okay? I told you to make a break for the elevator!"

"Sorry," she apologized. "I… kinda got caught up in the spectacle. But I'm fine. And about what you said before… I'm sorry, too. Thanks for saving me. Both of you."

"It's nothing," she insisted. Her face became stern as she turned to Squall. "And I think someone here owes you an apology for getting you involved in this mess in the first place."

"I already did," Squall muttered, sounding like a teenager being scolded by his mother.

"It's funny. Before, with everything happening all at once, I'd completely forgotten you'd given that to her. You're a very convincing actor, by the way."

"That night… you did say I was an excellent student."

Rinoa turned her head away; she knew all too well what was coming. The loud smack across his face echoed through the flooded hall. Her own cheek stung at the memory from two nights ago.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" Quistis fumed.

"It was the only thing I could come up with," he explained as he rubbed his cheek. "And it worked, didn't it?"

"Even so, it's just so disgusting… that you actually made me believe that's who you really are!"

"Um, I'm a little lost here," Rinoa cut in. She darted her eyes across the water. "But, you don't suppose we'll have any luck finding my pouch, do you?"

"It probably went up in flames with the blast," Squall said as he soaked his gunblade to rinse off the blood. "You didn't have anything else important in there, did you?"

"No. As long as I can get another room key from Cid."

I guess that's one book the library's not getting back…

"Then, let's go see him," he announced, sheathing his sword. "I've got a few questions for him, too."

"We do," Quistis agreed.

They both turned around to the elevator, wading their way through the shallows. Rinoa prepared to follow, when a faint glimmer in the water caught her eye; it was just barely visible through the purple haze around Norg's body. She reached her hand down to scoop it up. The silver casing of the sphere was still ajar, allowing the deep blue energy within to shine through its open slit. With a press of the switches on the top and bottom, the halves resealed.

"Rinoa!"

She quickly palmed it, and turned her attention back to the elevator. Squall beckoned to her from its side. She feigned an embarrassed look, placing her arms behind her back. She carefully slipped the sphere up her right arm warmer, and followed after.