9

CHAPTER 9 – THE ONE WHO BINDS THE TWO

Squall took his finger off the door-open button as Rinoa stepped aboard and sidled into place beside Quistis. Both of them were still visibly rattled from the climactic standoff. It had taken all his fortitude to stay so calm, and all his wit to maintain the facade that had saved their lives. He swiped the keycard he'd taken from one of the many slain Thorns across the reader. As the indicator light flashed green, he pressed the button for the 20th floor. The doors slowly closed on the frigid, flooded hall. With one last look across the desecrated chamber to Norg's bulging corpse, the lift began to rise.

He took no pride in having deceived his former instructor, nor having involved Rinoa. By all accounts, he'd deserved the smack across his cheek from Quistis. And yet, it was all he could think of in that moment. His entire ploy had hinged on Norg's self-admitted drought of information. He very much doubted that Edea had permitted General Caraway to retain his position. That Rinoa had been standing by her side on the broadcast, and still remained alive even after Deling's murder, was all the proof he'd needed to imply a standing accord between them. Paired with Quistis' predictably explosive reaction, Norg had taken the bait.

The only complication had been the Garden Master's GF; Squall hadn't expected him to have one of his own, much less taken the time to train himself with it. It no longer mattered; the vile toad had met his end upon his blade. He couldn't take all the credit for himself, however. Just as on the shores of Dollet, he owed his life to Quistis' intervention. Now, with the revelations they'd been privy to fresh in his mind, an audience with the headmaster was his utmost priority.

The lift came to the top of the Garden within 30 seconds. He stepped out into the antechamber, where the elevators all met their end, and strode forward down the lone corridor branching off. He swung open the great oaken doors to the grand hall. The newly instated control center he and Quistis had brought up still towered before the bay window. A small team of SeeD technicians stood atop, engaged in whatever maintenance work they'd been assigned to. The headmaster himself was not among them.

"He's probably in his office," Quistis suggested.

She pointed to the door on the hall's right-hand side. With the technicians seeming to pay them no mind, they made their way across. Squall rapped hard on the door. After a pregnant pause, a muffled response came from inside.

"Who is it?"

"The returning team from Galbadia, sir," he politely answered. "We have urgent news to report. May we come in?"

A set of labored footsteps answered him. The door slowly parted to reveal Cid's wrinkled face in the gap. His dour blue eyes cautiously passed over them before he swung it the rest of the way open. Squall took the lead, gravitating to the fore of the mahogany desk. A curtained bay window lay behind, offering a picturesque view of the ocean beyond. On the other end of the room was a plush king-sized bed, framed by a walk-in closet to one side, and an elegantly crafted liquor cabinet to the other. An untied plastic bag brimming with tissue and broken glass sat beside.

"What kind of news?" Cid asked as he settled into his chair. "If you're here to give me your report on the assassination, it's quite alright. I can more or less guess what happened. The truth is, that assignment was never intended for your squad to carry out. The Galbadia Garden administration must have foisted it on you to help deflect any blame from themselves."

"We just learned that from Norg," Squall confirmed. "He told us everything. He wanted to offer us up to the sorceress to spare himself. We took care of him and his goons. Rest assured, you won't need to worry about him twisting your arm anymore."

"You killed him?!"

The headmaster's eyes behind his glasses widened. Squall did not have the courage to meet them, knowing the regret it would fill him with. No sooner had the thought occurred to him, his own eyes went wide. Since his first kill in Dollet, and all those that had followed, he'd repeatedly been apathetic to the blood on his hands. It had led him to consider if he might become one so depraved as Seifer, as Quistis had accused him of not even an hour ago. And yet now, complicit in the deaths of another 20 or so more, as well as the sickly humanoid creature, he finally felt something.

No matter how justified his actions were, he was no longer numb to their ramifications. The headmaster's approval genuinely mattered to him. Such a thing should have been meaningless, and likely would have been at any point before Edea's takeover.

What's happening to me?

"Good riddance, then," Cid finally spoke. He placed his elbows on the desktop, bringing his clasped hands up to his chin. "He's been nothing but a devil on my shoulder since we founded this Garden. I sometimes wish I could go back about 15 years, and tell myself he'd be nothing but a money grubbing son-of-a…"

He cut himself short, and closed his eyes in frustration.

"If I may," Squall delicately steered the conversation back on track. "I'd like to know what sort of agreement you had with him. What was he, anyway?"

"He looked like a Shumi, to me," Quistis spoke up from his side. "And a remarkably portly one at that."

"You're quite right," the headmaster affirmed. He re-opened his eyes to meet hers over Squall's shoulder. "A 'black sheep' of the tribe, one might say. The Shumi are generally a very humble and reserved people, artistically inclined by nature, and honor-bound to their old traditions. They dedicate their lives to their own individual crafts, always honing their skills in the hope of contributing to their society. Norg's was an exceedingly rare case. He rejected the lifestyle of his people, and left Shumi Village to find a new calling. As it turned out, he had quite the talent for mercantilism. Over the course of 50 years, he'd accrued a great deal of wealth, and established some very high-profile connections across Galbadia, Trabia, and Esthar.

"When I was looking to build this Garden, I needed a benefactor. My search eventually led me to him, and we hit it off. Better still, the connections he had with Odine Industries gave us a backdoor to take advantage of their technological advances, even after Esthar had closed its borders. It was through him that we commissioned a team of the country's best technicians to remodel the old Centran shelter. And how we later secured exclusive use of Guardian Force technology for SeeD."

"The Garden was built by Esthar?" Quistis reiterated.

"All three were. Atop other abandoned remnants of Centran architecture, no less. It makes me wonder if the other two could be capable of mobilization as well. Anyway, even with Norg's fortune at our disposal, we still needed an enormous amount of funds. My original vision for Balamb Garden had simply been an institution for underprivileged or estranged children with nowhere else to go. The very concept of SeeD had been my wife's idea. It was to be an elite force of trained combatants, standing at the ready in the event that Sorceress Adel or her successor might one day return. And it was Norg who eventually suggested turning it into a mercenary army, as a means of bringing in more funds for the Garden.

"And so, we began dispatching operatives around the world. Sure enough, a massive amount of money started flowing in. And that's when the Garden began to change. Slowly but surely, Norg's avarice began to whittle away at my original ideals, perverting SeeD's true purpose until it became something unrecognizable. I'd even wanted to expand GF training to Galbadia and Trabia Gardens, but that greedy bastard wanted to keep a monopoly on that technology. He knew it would bring more contracts to us, and by extension, more money to him. We should have been hard at work preparing for our ultimate destiny, which we now face today. Instead, I've spent all these years at his beck and call. It was my fault for giving up control. But maybe now, with him gone, there can be a chance to restore SeeD back to its true purpose. To the way my wife once envisioned it…"

"And that actually leads me to my next question, sir," Squall pivoted; his mind was positively swirling to keep track of so much new information. "He also mentioned that your wife… is Sorceress Edea."

"What?!"

Squall turned to Rinoa at his side. The girl, who'd stayed mum for the entire meeting thus far, looked utterly horrified.

"That's impossible!" she exploded. "That can't be true!"

"I'm afraid that it is," Cid spoke glumly.

The headmaster achingly rose from his cushioned swivel chair, turned away from them, and strode to the bay window. He stopped before the glass, staring out at the open sea before him, and heaved a heavy sigh. Squall's own breath caught in his throat.

"She'd been a sorceress since childhood. I married her, knowing that. I loved her more intensely than anyone I've ever known."

"I… I don't understand," Quistis spluttered in bewilderment. "You said that SeeD was your wife's vision… to prepare for the coming of another sorceress like Adel. How could she insist on something like that, only to become the very person she'd wanted to stop in the first place?"

"I don't understand it either, Quistis. I don't have the faintest idea what's happened to her. She used to be so sweet and lovely, nothing at all like those horrible stories through the ages. The Edea I knew lived so much of her life terrified by the power she'd received, and would never use it for such evil ends. I remember when she told me of her plan for SeeD, my only concern was that one day she might run afoul of the organization, if it ever came under the wrong kind of leadership. She just laughed and told me that would never happen. But…"

He paused. The built-up tension lingered in the air as he turned back to face them. Squall tracked his every move, fully enraptured by the recounting.

"Signing off on that assassination was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," Cid admitted, his eyes washing over them. "My only hope was that Irvine would be a better judge than I to determine the right course of action. And I hope you will be, too, Squall, Quistis."

Squall stood locked in a stare-down with the headmaster. To be charged with taking out such a powerful figure had been daunting enough, even without knowing of her connection to Cid and SeeD as a whole. At once, their marksman's reluctance to take the shot came into clarity but slightly.

"On your feet soldier!" he snapped to the downed sniper. "As your commanding officer, I am ordering you to take this shot!"

"I told you, I can't do it!" Irvine roared as he hoisted himself up. The rifle still hung by its sling around his shoulder. "Don't you have any idea who that is?!"

"She's evil!" he furiously spat. "That's what you wanted to know, wasn't it? If our enemy was really pure evil? What more proof do you need?!"

"And what happened to 'right and wrong aren't what separate us'?! You damn hypocrite!"

In hindsight, Irvine must have known of Edea's true identity. By Cid's own admission, it was the reason why he'd insisted on his assignment to the mission.

I get it now… but, it still doesn't make sense. How is it that he knew who she was, but we didn't?

"Headmaster!"

The interruption came with a series of hurried raps on the door. Squall instinctively turned his head, and watched as Cid made his way over. He swung the door open. One of the technicians who'd been atop the control center stood in the frame.

"What is it?" Cid asked the visibly anxious young man.

"We've managed to get the sonar system up and running," he saluted. "But we've just picked up a bogey approaching fast on the Garden's starboard side!"

"Just one?"

"Yes, sir. It's moving much too fast to be any kind of marine life."

"Do you think it's Galbadia?" Rinoa piped up.

"If it were, I'd expect it to be an entire fleet," Squall answered.

"It might be a scouting party," Quistis suggested. "Headmaster, your orders? Should we prepare for battle?"

"No, I don't think that will be necessary," he replied, turning back to face them. "In fact, if my hunch is right, it may well be our allies."

'Allies'? What allies?

"Starboard side, you said?" he addressed the technician. "Thank you for letting me know. As you were. Squall, Quistis, Rinoa, I'd appreciate it if you'd accompany me down to the observation deck on the second floor. Just in case I turn out to be mistaken."

"Who exactly do you think it might be?" Squall asked apprehensively.

"Not all SeeDs are kept stationed in this Garden. That's all I'll say for now. Let's hurry on down and see if I'm right."

The headmaster started out the door at a remarkably brisk pace for his age. Squall shared an uncertain glance with his group. Quistis seemed not to have any clue. Rinoa, ever the ignorant outsider, looked equally confused. With a reluctant sigh, he led the way after Cid. They moved back into the hall, down the stretch of red carpet, and out to the ring of elevators. They filed into the first available lift, and within 30 seconds had descended to the second level.

Squall could scarcely remember a time when he'd set foot on the floor. It must have been more than 10 years ago, during the earliest years of his primary education, for which the classrooms on the lower levels were exclusively reserved. Accordingly, each floor designated for use by the junior classmen also came equipped with a panic room to be utilized in the case of an emergency. They'd doubtless been put to use during the previous day's uprising.

Additionally, a pair of emergency escape hatches were set beside each of the outdoor observation decks, two to a floor. He recalled the routine evacuation drills from his childhood; once opened, each would deploy a yellow, inflatable slide for the students to take to ground level. As they circled the outer ring of classrooms to the starboard balcony, he took notice of the sealed hatch framed by plentiful cautionary markings. Without some manner of life-raft on hand, they would now be useless in the event of the Garden sinking.

Cid swung the door beside open. The calm ocean breeze cascaded through as he did. Squall raised his hand against the midday sun as he followed him through. He swept his eyes over the balcony's steel banister, and instantly caught sight of a ship tearing across the waves. Its design was unlike any standard military vessel he'd ever seen, but neither did it appear to be a civilian boat. It was painted sheer white, flourished by elegant gold embroidering across the underside of its lengthy fuselage. The wooded deck stretched out from a hollowed out alcove at the rear, where the cabins likely resided. A windowed helm sat atop. Behind, three large wing-shaped sails whipped in the wind. Closer the ship drew, slowing for a mooring at the Garden's side.

"What fresh hell is this?" Rinoa moaned from behind.

"It's the White SeeDs," Cid answered her. "A special unit of SeeD that Edea and I formed long ago. They operate in secrecy, independent of Balamb Garden code."

"Are they here to help evacuate?" Quistis pondered as the ship finally pulled alongside.

"No… or at least, not us. The White SeeDs were organized for one purpose alone."

And I'm sure you'll tell us any moment now, right?

Waves crashed up below the balcony as the ship came to a rest. Three crewmen on the deck craned their necks up to meet them. They were all outfitted in matching beige uniforms, with cream-colored headbands tied around their foreheads.

"Headmaster Cid!" the head of the group called up; he performed the SeeD salute as he did so. "We came as soon as we heard about the missile bombardment on Trabia Garden. Is everything alright?"

"Miraculously, yes," Cid responded. His tone was dour; it seemed Edea's preliminary target had in fact suffered a direct hit. "Thanks to these three, we were able to mobilize the Garden just in time. It's still all so surreal."

"We feared the worst when we saw the smoke rising from the Alcaud Plains," the leader continued. "The survivors in Balamb told us about the Garden's collision into the sea. I'm sure you know why we've come."

"Indeed. Perhaps it was a mistake to have brought Ellone here, after all."

Squall's blood froze as the familiar name left Cid's mouth. His eyes bulged. He was speechless, just as when he'd first heard it uttered in the waking world the morning before.

"Consider that a warning," Seifer smirked. "Don't play dumb with me. Edea knows safeguarding Ellone is one of SeeD's primary aims. Now, let's try this again. Where is she?"

So, it's true…

"It has become too dangerous to leave her here," the White SeeD concurred. "Permission to come aboard?"

"That won't be necessary," Cid assured him. "I'll make a call over the intercom, and have her come right out to meet you. Just wait here."

The headmaster turned on his heel back towards the balcony doorway. He gestured for the three in his midst to follow behind. Squall stayed standing by the guardrail, watching Quistis and Rinoa traipse after him. The girl in blue turned back to him before passing through. She shot him a questioning look; his unwillingness to follow hadn't gone unnoticed. He returned it with a firm gaze and a hand-wave. She quietly filed out, leaving him on the observation deck by himself. As the door closed behind her, he turned back around and peered over the banister to the White SeeDs below.

"Who is Ellone?" he called down to them. Perhaps finally, he might glean some concrete information pertaining to his dreams.

"Miss Ellone is the lady we've pledged our lives to keeping safe from the sorceress' clutches," the leader responded.

"Why? Who is she to you? And how is she connected to SeeD?"

"I'm afraid I can't disclose that kind of sensitive information to just anyone. Please understand that we have our reasons for operating in secrecy."

"Then just answer me this," Squall pleaded. "Does the name 'Laguna' mean anything to you?"

"I can't say it does," the soldier replied. "Now, if we're finished, I would appreciate it if you could keep your nose out of our affairs. You're welcome to stay up there if it pleases you; I don't have the authority to tell you where you can and can't be on the Garden premises. Just know that getting involved would be… unwise."

He turned around, and proceeded across the deck after his men. Squall backed away from the railing to prop himself up beside the door. Once again, he was left without any explanation for his strange visions, which had come for an unprecedented 6th time that very morning. He briefly considered if the shared name might have been pure coincidence; perhaps it were a different Ellone whom this special SeeD regiment had been tasked with guarding. He just as quickly realized how unlikely a coincidence it was. For Edea to be seeking a girl with that name, just as Laguna's Ellone had been stolen away by Sorceress Adel, was too much to write off as happenstance.

And yet, the notion that Edea herself had co-founded the White SeeDs ran completely counter to what he'd learned from Seifer. The incongruity was insurmountable. The sorceress must have deceived his rival with some twisted version of the real story. Why she would do such a thing still eluded him, and perhaps forever would. If the headmaster himself couldn't understand why his wife had turned down such a wicked path, what hope was there for him?

He continued to mull over the many tidbits of contradictory information, bordering on nonsensical as he tried to piece them all together. His focus soon came back to the White SeeDs on their ship below. Their beige uniforms were strikingly different to the black with gold flourishes traditionally worn by standard operatives. Still, the outfits were strangely familiar to him. He racked his brain to determine where he could have seen the attire before. He thought back to a time when life had still been so simple; a time when the Garden had still been firmly rooted upon Balamb soil; a time when Galbadia had yet to be usurped by the headmaster's estranged wife; and a time when all that concerned him was the legitimacy of his newly bestowed title. Finally, it dawned on him.

That's right. It was on the day we got the assignment to go to Timber. That morning, in the training center… they were the ones who were trying to fight off the malboro. The ones who were protecting…

Squall's tongue caught in his throat. Seemingly out of the blue, the answer to a question he'd too easily neglected came to light. He remained completely still with his back pressed up beside the door in astonishment. The creaking hinges roused him from his shock. He stepped away as it swung open. An exceedingly familiar White SeeD strode forward; he was the very same who'd seized hold of Squall's wrist when he'd tried to follow after the mysterious young woman from the infirmary. She emerged right behind him the next moment.

Her trimmed dark brown hair barely reached her bare shoulders, exposed to the ocean breeze by the sleeveless, light blue blouse she wore. Her white skirt whipped in the wind, as did the instantly recognizable green shawl wrapped around her. Her deep brown eyes met his. They widened, her face forming an expression to match Squall's own. Her bodyguard glowered at him, demanding he keep his distance. The second emerged onto the deck from behind and, noticing him, joined in on the silent stare-down.

"Please," she gestured to them with one arm. "It's alright. He's not a threat."

The two kept their eyes on Squall, yet obediently remained standing in place as she took a few delicate steps towards him. His heart pounded in his chest. He had no idea how to broach the many questions on his mind, or even if he ought to. There was still no guarantee this was the same girl from his dreams. Even if she were, would she ever believe something so ludicrous?

I need to know for sure…

"Are you… Ellone?" he finally stammered.

"I am," she sighed in return.

"The Ellone?" he anxiously specified. "The one from… Laguna's world?"

All fell silent but the sound of the ocean. The girl appeared to hesitate, shifting her eyes down and away from his. After a prolonged pause, a soft mutter reached his ears.

"Laguna's world… yes, I guess it would seem like a different world today. The passage of time will do that."

Although he'd already figured as much, the revelation that Squall had indeed been seeing into the past still shook him. More startling was the implication that Ellone knew of his visions. There was only one explanation for that.

"Are… are you the one who's been sending me into the past?"

It was unbelievable, but he knew it to be true. That she'd been by his bedside in the infirmary, right after he'd had his first experience as Laguna, was no coincidence.

"I'm sorry," she admitted, still not meeting his eyes. "I just… I had to try. I had to see if it would work."

"If what would work?!" he lashed out, momentarily startling her bodyguards. "And why me?!"

"I'm sorry, Squall," she apologized again. "There's just too much to explain, and I'm afraid I'm all out of time. I have to go now."

Ellone craned her neck back to the two White SeeDs. With a taut nod, they crossed to the balcony, and signaled down to their comrades on the ship. The girl turned back to Squall, himself still hunched forward in abject shock. She closed the gap between them, gingerly maneuvered her head over his shoulder, and softly whispered into his ear.

"Please… I need your help… you're my only hope."

Her parting words uncomfortably lingered in Squall's consciousness. They left him paralyzed as she backed away and followed her guards down the newly erected ladder. He kept standing there for what felt like ages. Before long, the White SeeD vessel relieved itself from its mooring, and began to drift from the Garden's side. He watched numbly as it turned away and sped across the ocean, cutting a swathe through the blue towards the horizon.

There he remained on the balcony, lost in thought, staring out into the distance long after the ship had vanished from sight. He spent well over an hour reflecting on every minute detail of their too brief exchange. Only when he finally noticed the sun dipping down did he see fit to head back inside.

The trek back to his dorm passed in a blur. Muscle-memory alone guided him there. By the time he lay upon his bedroom mattress, now devoid of any comfort it had offered him the night before, he could scarcely recall the steps he'd taken to arrive there. He stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the daylight peeking through his blinds as best he could.

'You're my only hope'… for what? Why me? I already have enough problems as it is!

He restlessly tossed and turned. What rationale did this girl have to use her inexplicable power to send him into Laguna's mind? That she was under SeeD's protection now was proof enough that she'd escaped Adel's clutches so long ago. Had some horrible fate befallen her foster father in the intervening years? Or were her motivations related to Edea's emergence? Whatever her reasons, Squall couldn't understand why he should be the one forced to shoulder such a burden.

Why do people depend on each other, anyway? In the end, you're on your own. I've made it this far by myself…

He retracted the statement as soon as he remembered the previous morning. If not for Rinoa and Irvine, as well as the moombas, he would likely have still been in the prison, leaving the Garden to be destroyed by the missiles. Furthermore, he now owed Quistis his life twice over. To say that all his successes were entirely of his own making was simply not true.

Fine, I'll admit that I'm here because of other people. I've depended on others when there's been no other choice, but… I have all the skills I need to survive on my own now. I'm not a child anymore… no, that's a lie. I still don't know anything. I'm so confused. Someone tell me… someone? So, I'll end up depending on others after all…

Feeling more conflicted and troubled than he could recall in a long time, Squall shut his eyes against the dimly-lit bedroom. He willed himself to slip away from the turmoil of reality, and into whatever comforting fantasy he could find refuge in.