8
CHAPTER 8 – SEPARATE WAYS
"C'mon, Rinoa, wake up already!"
Groggily, she flitted open her eyes. She could at least manage that much, now that Ultimecia had left her mind once more. Her head was still pounding, as it had been from the moment Ellone had cast the two of them into young Adel's mind in the past; to think, Squall had it so rough each time over the last several months. Her legs stumbled to find stable footing as she was pulled upright. Gingerly, her yet unseen helper slung her arm around their shoulder, and started walking her along.
Her surroundings were still a blur. Little changed even once her eyes fully focused; the nighttime darkness did her no favors. The streetlamps up and down the road were all she could rely on. There were too few however, spaced too far apart from one another, almost sporadically. The swathes of panicked people running amok only made it harder to make an assessment, but even then, what she managed to glimpse of the landscape all around looked completely alien. Before she could get her bearings, she was dragged around the corner. She jolted as her back collided with the alley wall. Peering down its length, she finally took stock of her current companions. Zell stood beside with his arm wrapped around her. Selphie, Quistis, and Irvine stood further along, their attention trained back out to the streets.
She followed suit. Or would have, were it not for the sight immediately before her; so perplexing it was, it took several moments for her to comprehend what she was looking at. The open interior of a house rested mere feet away, exposed to the elements as if the building had been sheared clean in two. She swept her eyes from end to end. Only then did she realize the alley they stood in was no alley at all; an entire segment of the house's floor space had in fact been ripped clean out, walls included.
"What's happening?" she finally spoke up. "What is this place?"
"Balamb?" Zell replied, sounding unsure. "I think?"
Rinoa had little reference to make such a determination. She'd only ever passed through the town three times total: twice to and from the Garden when she'd gone to meet Cid at the graduation ball, and again on the way back to save it from the missile strike. A glance out at the cobbled roads and sandstone architecture seemed to imply as much. But they were nothing like she remembered. Short of being leveled by an earth-rending event to rival the bombardment they'd averted, she couldn't imagine it being the same locale. And then, it hit her.
"Is this all because of the time compression?" Selphie put her realization into words.
"It must be," she replied.
Nothing else could account for how twisted and haphazardly constructed the world around them appeared. A warzone would have implied visible devastation; there was no smoke, fire, nor any refuse, debris, or even casualties scattered about on the ground. Throngs of people stampeded by, their wails all her ears could discern; no explosions nor gunshots rose up above the commotion.
"So, uh… anyone wanna fill me in on what's happening here?" Irvine piped up.
"It's a long story," Quistis told him. "Basically, in order to stop Ultimecia once and for all, we had to let her compress time like she wanted. Looks like it's worked. Now that we all exist in the same world as her, it's up to us to find her and kill her. That's the only way to restore things back to how they were before."
"Okay… I guess I follow," he hummed. "But… how'd we get here? And what happened to the others?"
"Where's Squall?!" Rinoa shrilled; she'd been so preoccupied with everything else, his absence hadn't even occurred to her.
"Maybe somewhere else?" Zell said, finally letting her go. "I mean, if we ended up out here, halfway across the world from Esthar, who knows where the others could have landed."
"I have to admit, Balamb's just the place I was hoping to wind up," Quistis chimed in.
"Yeah, you and me both. Call me crazy, but… when the world started melting all around like that, I kind of just fell back on what the president was saying before. You know, that whole thing about picturing where you wanted to be, who you wanted to be with, and all. I was just praying I'd somehow make it back here to see… Ma! Oh, shit!"
He tore right past Rinoa and into the frenzied flow of traffic.
"Let's hustle, ladies!" Irvine shouted out as he took the lead. "Better not lose sight of him. I don't know how else we're gonna find his house with the town looking like this!"
Rinoa bolted after him into the crowd. She stayed on his heels as best she could, weaving in and out among the pedestrians. There was barely a moment through it all to properly survey the state of Balamb. She had no inclination to bother; the scenery flying by on either side was too disjointed at a glance to even pretend she knew what she was looking at.
Her attention was better directed to the ground, if anywhere. The roads were treacherous, strewn with gaping potholes aplenty waiting to trip her up. Enough people up and down the street had already fallen victim. Others too fearful to partake in the mayhem relegated themselves to the sidelines. To everyone's benefit, whatever cars lined the streets were immobile for the moment. From what glances she caught of their drivers however, it wasn't for any lack of trying; most apparently lacked the hardware, whether internal or external, to function any longer.
Eventually, Zell came back into her line of sight. He stood at the doorway of a sandstone home near the end of the road. Or at least, what remained of it; a quick glance up to the second level revealed a gaping hole torn into its fore. The door swung open. Out shot a middle aged woman, presumably Zell's adoptive mother, into his waiting embrace.
"Easy there, Ma," he assured her as the rest of them drew closer. "Everything's alright. Let's just get inside. Come on, guys!"
Rinoa followed the two of them and Irvine in through the door. Alarmingly, the house provided little more shelter than they'd had outside. Yet more holes had been left sheared through the interior walls, seemingly at random, providing her a view of the beach down below. On the ocean stretched into the distance, just as she recalled. And yet, the water itself was like none she'd ever seen. It stood perfectly still in the moonlight; not a wave ebbed, bobbed, nor even crashed upon the sandy shore. It was all just as Ultimecia had foreseen: a land eternally frozen in time, immovable, and unyielding. She stopped breathing. Several moments passed before she realized there was no need to breathe at all.
"Zell, what's going on?!" the boy's mother shrilled to him. "Is this the work of Galbadia? We all heard that broadcast after the radio started working again, and now… where do I even begin?!"
"It's a lot to explain, Ma," he answered, guiding her to sit in a nearby chair. "Way too much. But I'm working on it. We all are. What matters is you're okay. I promise, we're gonna have the town back to the way it was in no time."
"Hard to believe that's what we're looking at," Selphie said as she ambled over to look out beside Rinoa. "The way it is 'in no time'."
"At least we all made it through in one piece," Quistis spoke up.
I sure hope you're right about that…
Rinoa wouldn't dare take solace until Squall was standing in front of her again. Had Zell and Quistis' efforts been what had brought the five of them to Balamb, there was every chance he'd simply ended up somewhere else. She knew where she longed to be; had only she been in control of her body through the transition, she would have fought with all her willpower to keep the promise they'd made. Perhaps he was even waiting there for her now.
"You'd all better get up here and take a look at this!"
She hurriedly put aside her worries and turned to the stairs. Irvine stood upon them, freshly descended from the upper landing.
"Hey, who said you could go snooping around up there?" Zell asked defensively.
"Sorry, guess I couldn't resist checking out the new balcony," he shot back. "Come on! This is important! Just watch your step on the way up, alright?"
Apparently, Zell and his mother needed no further coaxing. She rose back up from her chair, and together they started over to the stairs. Rinoa followed after with Selphie and Quistis. As she started to climb, she quickly realized Irvine's warning hadn't been for nothing; entire segments of several steps were missing. What should have been a brisk traipse up to the second floor took nearly 30 seconds for them to traverse without tripping. The top branched off in either direction. Irvine, Zell, and Mrs. Dincht pivoted off to the left, towards the front of the house. Rinoa followed them through the doorframe, but stopped after only a few steps; there were no more she could take.
The floor abruptly cut off just inside the room. It might as well have been an open air balcony now, just as Irvine had said. The missing walls lay bare what remained of the town beyond. For every stout sandstone dwelling still left mostly intact, plenty looked as dilapidated if not more so than Zell's own.
"All gone, huh?" he muttered, glancing around the immediate area. "Thanks a lot, buddy. Because I just really needed to see my room like this."
"Well then, how about taking a look over there?" Irvine suggested.
He pointed out the gaping hole in the wall. Rinoa's eyes followed, peering into the distance. The amount of light on hand, whether from the remaining streetlamps or the moon was too meager to determine just what she was looking at. Still, she managed to pick out the massive silhouette looming in the distance. It towered high above the surrounding landscape, too near and too angular in shape to be the northern mountains.
"Isn't that around where the Garden used to be?" Selphie asked.
"Seems about right," Quistis commented.
"That sure ain't it, though," Zell said. "Any guesses?"
"Looks like a castle to me," Irvine interjected. "See those turrets jutting up?"
Rinoa could indeed grasp the general shape of the towers in question, now that he mentioned it. The realization hit her just as abruptly: though unfamiliar at a far off glance, she was confident she knew that building inside and out. She'd never walked its halls. She'd never so much as stepped through its front gates. But she had.
"So, what do you say? Fit the bill for an evil witch's lair?"
"It has to be," Rinoa agreed.
"It gives us a heading, at least," Quistis said. "There's no point in sitting around here waiting for something to happen. Let's move out and get this nightmare over with."
"You mean… that's the sorceresses' castle?" Zell's mom gawked. "And you're… please tell me you're not thinking of-"
"It's alright, Ma," her son reassured her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and guided her back to the door. "I'mstaying right here with you."
"You can't be serious!" Quistis reeled in surprise. "It's going to take all of us to have any chance of stopping her!"
"From where I'm standing, two's all we need. And all we have left, now."
He spared one look back to her as he passed by Rinoa. The stare said all there was left to say. Without another word, he guided his mother out and back down the stairs.
"Hate to admit it, but he's right," Irvine quipped once they were out of earshot. "What good are us mere mortals going to be against her?"
"I'm… sorry," Quistis apologized. She redirected her stare back out to the distant fortress. "I only just figured it out myself a few days ago."
Rinoa had been her first and only confidant until their meeting with Edea. Quistis' explanation still baffled her, even now; she could hardly believe the account she'd read that day of King Odin's assassin, sunk to the ocean floor by the ancient Centrans, held credence, let alone that she and Squall had borne witness to her. However harrowing an experience it must have been, to speak nothing of its life-changing ramifications, Rinoa was grateful to have another freshly minted sorceress by her side. She'd ceased to feel herself an outcast from her circle of friends ever since.
"So, you've both got the power?" Selphie prodded.
"That's right," Rinoa confirmed. "We've spent the last couple of days at the orphanage practicing. Edea gave us some tips. And I've still got a lot of Ultimecia's know-how to fall back on. Other than that though…"
"Well, it's better than nothing," Irvine insisted. "And a lot more good than the rest of us'll be able to do. Far as I can see, we'll just be in the way if we tag along. What about you, Selphie?"
"I mean… if that's how it has to be," she conceded. She swiveled her eyes back and forth between Rinoa and Quistis, and then pumped her fist in solidarity. "Give her hell, you two. And whatever happens, we'll all see each other again, back on that plateau in Esthar. That's a promise! Got it?"
Rinoa smiled. There was nothing quite like Selphie's trademark enthusiasm to fill her with the confidence to face down any enemy. Save perhaps for Squall at her side. She looked to Quistis for her stance on the matter. Her fellow sorceress in arms smiled back gently, and nodded.
"You bet," Rinoa said. "Keep an eye out for Squall and the others while we're gone."
"Will do!"
"Then, it's settled," Irvine said, turning back out the door and down the stairs. "You've got this. Have fun storming the castle, and we'll see you on the other side."
Selphie winked back, and started after him. Rinoa stayed put with Quistis on the upper landing as they worked their way down.
"You think we can do it?" she asked once they'd descended around the bend.
"Who else could?" Quistis replied.
Rinoa knew as much; she'd asked purely for the sake of reassurance. Regardless of whether Quistis saw fit to give it to her however, there was no room for further doubt in her heart. She quickly pushed it aside. Whether or not their brief training period together would be enough was immaterial now. As Zell had said, it was the only advantage they had left.
"Well, whatever happens, I'll just be glad to have you watching my back through it all," she told her.
"Same here."
The two shared a look, a smile, and a nod, and with one final glance out at the castle in the distance, started back down the stairs.
"Laguna, wait!"
He ignored Kiros' plea. He only had eyes for the tavern, still standing just where he recalled along the rim of the town square. How quaint it all looked now, after so many years spent living among Esthar's towering city skyline. He couldn't fathom how, or why he'd been suddenly transported to Winhill, only that he'd been longing for it with all his heart as the time compression took hold. By some miracle, his wish had been granted.
The village's evident state of disrepair swept away whatever joy he might have felt to be finally back. Its old world architecture lay in shambles all around. Divots of all shapes and sizes riddled the once pristine cobbled square, its ruined facade further marred by the weeds and overgrowth spread all across. The houses themselves fared no better; each one stood as a dilapidated, unkempt shell of its former glory, seemingly long abandoned. The townspeople standing dumbfounded or otherwise cowering all around were the only proof to the contrary. Still more streamed out of the tavern entrance in a frenzy. Laguna slowed only to keep from being knocked over by them. The moment there was a sufficient opening, he darted on inside.
The interior looked every bit a mess as the outside. Though the general dimensions of the tavern proper were accounted for, little else resembled his and Raine's home from a life long ago. Entire portions of the walls were missing, as though they'd been ripped out by some unseen force of nature. The staircase leading up to the second landing appeared as if it might collapse in the wake of the faintest gust of wind; too many boards had been ripped out for him to even consider climbing to the top. What few townspeople still lingered across the span of the bar darted his way.
"Hey!" he called to them. "Hold on a sec! What's going on here?! Can anyone tell me-"
None of the patrons paid him more than a glance as they blew on by, racing out the door. Before long, he was alone. There he remained standing among the upturned tables and chairs littering the floor, his eyes tracing the bar from end to end. Just as with the rest of the building, major chunks had been left gaping open across its bulky wooden frame. More than anything else however, it was the absence of one particular person from the room which gave him the most pause. A hand gently took hold of his shoulder before he could think it over any further.
"I was hoping we'd find our way back here," Ellone spoke. Her own eyes swept around the tavern interior as she stood by his side. "I just… wish we didn't have to see it like this."
"You and me both," Laguna sighed. "But even if it looked exactly like we left it, without her here…"
"What an astounding sight this time compressed world is, indeed!"
He spun back around to see Odine come striding in through the door. Kiros and Ward stepped inside right behind him, the latter hunching down to avoid bumping his head on the frame.
"All of time and space, across all eras, jumbled together," the doctor continued. "I'd hardly call it a pretty picture, but… alas, it will do nothing to bring back the dead. Nor is now the time to be caught up in reminiscence. Come. The sooner we find Ultimecia, the sooner we may set right this twisted hellscape."
"What about Squall and the others?" Ellone asked.
Laguna squinted his eyes past Odine and out through the door. He'd been so enthralled by the sight of Winhill, he hadn't even stopped to take count of the others he'd landed there with. Plenty of villagers continued to whip by outside in a frenzy, but no others entered.
"I didn't see anyone else around when we settled here," Kiros commented. "Is it possible they ended up somewhere else?"
"They better have," Laguna replied. "I don't see how we're gonna get out of this mess without them."
"Then let us be on our way, already," Odine insisted.
"Where to?"
"To wherever and however far our journey takes us. All we need do is start looking. We're sure to stumble upon her lair, eventually. We've all the time in the world now. Or perhaps none at all. I suppose it's all a matter of perspective. Regardless, there's nothing to be gained by staying put here."
Laguna swiveled his attention between Kiros and Ward. The former flashed him a cocked eyebrow, the other casting his eyes down and to the side. Neither seemed enthusiastic at the prospect of an impending journey with no destination. He then turned to Ellone. Whatever apprehension she likewise held was offset by the look in her eyes: reassuring, and determined to do whatever it took to make things right. For however warped and twisted the world around them had become, she was no different than before.
"He's right," she told him. "We don't belong here. Not like this. But we'll be back. With Squall. And together, we'll let Raine know how much we've missed her."
He could do nothing but nod in return. This was not his beautiful house from a life left behind. And without his beautiful wife, there was nothing to keep him standing there any longer.
"You bet."
He brought up his hand to playfully ruffle Ellone's hair. She cracked a smile and chuckled as he did so. He shot one of his own back at her. Even now, despite all the years spent apart, and for however twisted the remains of their former home around them, the spark which had permeated every waking moment together in Winhill was still there.
"Come on, guys," he gestured to the others. "Let's roll out."
One by one, they exited back out into the town square. Laguna carefully led the way around the rim, taking care to keep clear of the still riled-up townsfolk. None stuck out to him as familiar at a glance, though the shadows cast by the late afternoon sun made it impossible to tell for certain. What he could discern was the ramshackle state of the bridge leading over the canal and out of town; he wouldn't dare risk crossing in such a state. Instead, he pivoted east, wrapping around the outer homes along the waterway's edge until they reached the rolling plains beyond.
The once verdant fields of green before him now appeared as warped as the village, a veritable tapestry tattered by gaping pockets of barren earth. None of it resembled the land he'd once called home. He could scarcely believe the neighboring bluffs were the same upon which he'd proposed to Raine all those years ago. For however much the world had changed since then, this was on a level unheard of. Steeling himself, he pressed onward into the unknown. He eventually risked a glance back over his shoulder after several minutes. What was left of Winhill continued shrinking away into the distance behind him and his entourage.
See you again soon…
"Pretty convenient we ended up out here of all places," Kiros remarked. "What are the odds?"
"Better than you think," Laguna insisted. "You remember what I said yesterday? About picturing the place you want to be, and who you want to be with? That's all I was doing."
"I was thinking of Winhill too," Ellone chimed in. "When I sent Rinoa and Ultimecia back, to see the world as it was through young Adel's eyes, it got me thinking back on those days. Back when everything was still simple. Back before she sent…"
"So, what you're saying is we all just got dragged along for the ride?" Kiros pivoted.
Laguna silently thanked his friend for steering the conversation away from the emotional landmine she'd been about to set foot upon. He prepared to follow up, when a wordless huff from Ward stole his thunder. He turned to his hulking friend in time to catch him rolling his eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.
"My guess is, 'Nothing new there'," Kiros translated with a smirk. "Anyway, I'm not complaining. Feels a bit like the old days."
"Yeah, kinda. But the thing is… I was really hoping it'd get us all here."
Ultimately, it seemed only those closest to him in a physical capacity had followed in his wake as they'd fallen through the bounds of time and space. He'd desperately hoped for Squall and his comrades to be there with them when he'd opened his eyes again. Failing that, he at the very least longed for confirmation that his son had indeed passed through safely into this strange new world. And for however much it disquieted him to ask it of her – she'd already been put through enough for the sake of bringing this reality into being – he knew Ellone was the only one who could provide him that peace of mind.
"Ellie," he spoke to her as he ground to a halt. "Can you send me into Squall's mind right now? I need to know he's alright. Please. It'll just be for a minute."
The girl stopped in her tracks. She said nothing back to him, but instead closed her eyes in concentration. Apparently, she was willing to give it a try. Laguna knew he should have expected as much from her; she had just as much a stake in Squall's well-being as he did, and would gladly go however far for him. He braced himself for the impending junction process. For all the times he'd unwittingly found himself on the receiving end, to be the one actually thrust into another's mind was still new to him. The piercing sensation each time it commenced was so much worse to contend with than a minor persistent buzzing in his head. He shut his own eyes in anticipation. After roughly ten seconds, it still had not come. He creaked one eye open to check on Ellone. There she stood in place with her brow furrowed, a strained expression plastered on her face.
"Everything alright, Ellie?"
"I… I can't do it," she finally exhaled, opening her eyes. "I'm sorry. I just can't seem to connect."
"And you mean to say you're surprised by this?" Odine abruptly interjected. "Have you both forgotten? This world exists in a perpetual temporal stasis. All of existence is effectively frozen in place. How can you expect to hone in on his consciousness in such a realm, never mind link yourselves to him?"
"What the hell do you mean, 'frozen'?" Laguna protested. He raised his arms up to the sky and waved them about wildly. "We're all moving around, aren't we?!"
"Perhaps. But tell me: do you really feel as if you exist in your own body? Do you perceive the wind upon your face? The earth beneath your soles? The beating of your heart within your chest?"
Laguna scoffed. Defiantly, he pounded his right fist against his heart and shot Odine a confident smirk. Within seconds, his bravado melted away into horror. Yet more continued to pass, and all the while, his heart refused to start up again.
"H-How…?" he stammered, glancing around. Kiros, Ward, and Ellone had all followed his lead in the interim. Judging by their shared expressions of disbelief, he could only assume the same held true for them.
"Remarkable, isn't it?" Odine went on, unfazed. "Our bodies are as they were in the instant time compression took hold, and not a moment further. I didn't even notice it myself at first. But I suspect it could very well work to our advantage. At least this way, we shouldn't have to worry about hunger, thirst, or even sleep as we journey onward."
"So, that's it?" Kiros finally cut in. "We just wander forever until we find the others and Ultimecia?"
The prospect was no more appealing to Laguna. Even if his body were indeed fit for the task, and could push on indefinitely beyond the bounds of normal human physiology, he knew the trek might potentially turn all the more torturous for it. His sanity would still surely give out in due time.
"If you've any other ideas, you're more than welcome to share," the doctor countered. "And if not, then I suggest we keep moving."
Laguna grimaced, but nodded back all the same. He turned and started again out into the fields, now convinced beyond any doubt that this was far from the place he'd called home.
Somehow, I can't imagine hell being much worse than this…
Onward they forged for the better part of an hour. Just as Odine had posited, he wasn't even breaking a sweat through it all. To say he was short of breath would have been another matter, however; although he didn't feel winded in any capacity, neither did he perceive any air filtering in and out of his lungs for the duration. It truly felt as if he could keep pressing forward to the ends of the earth, without regard for stamina or endurance, just as when he'd set out to take back Ellone all those years ago. Nothing could stop him then. Now, with her future, his son's, and that of everyone else he held dear hanging in the balance, he swore to himself he would not stop now.
"There's something coming up behind us!" Ellone finally called out from the rear.
Laguna spun on a dime and peered back into the distance from whence they'd came. Any trace of the village had disappeared from view, obscured by the lingering twilight still on the horizon. A single blaring light broke through the shadows. It pivoted but slightly as it coursed across the fields, drawing ever closer to their position.
"Some kind of off-road vehicle?" Kiros wondered.
"Looks like it," Laguna said. "Maybe they can give us a ride?"
He broke off from the rest of the group to wave the mysterious anomaly down. Over the terrain it continued to tear, a heavy mechanized rustling soon reaching his ears as it approached. The intensity of the headlight's glare blotted out any visual. Whatever it was, it was clearly bigger than a mere motorcycle. It would likely have no problem accommodating the five of them provided the driver were inclined to lend them a hand. To his dismay however, the vehicle showed no signs of slowing.
"Hey!" he shouted the driver down, flailing his arms over his head.
Within moments, his efforts were rewarded. The light pivoted directly towards him and the rest of the group. There was no longer any possibility of them going unnoticed. Still, the vehicle refused to slow. The mechanized rustling persisted, growing louder by the second. And then, a blaring horn cut through the racket. The blood drained from Laguna's face the moment it registered to his ears. That was no ordinary horn from a car or truck, but a steam whistle. His eyes dipped to his feet. Sure enough, there were no rails laid down anywhere in sight. It should have been impossible. And yet, it continued picking up speed as it zoomed straight for him.
"Everyone move!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.
He frantically dashed out of the way, but it was no use. The runaway train deviated just as he did. His eyes widened in shock as it drew close enough to fully discern. And the last thing he saw before the darkness took him was the gaping, skeletal maw of death itself, poised to swallow him whole.
And swallow him it did.