12
CHAPTER 12 – IN THE COURT OF THE CRIMSON WITCH
Up and up, round and round the wooden scaffolding spiraled to the top of the clock tower. It sported no railing, but that was nothing new for Quistis at this point; the chain to the floating castle had been far steeper, and no more secure. Even the pitch black darkness was no obstacle; the flickering flame she held in her palm provided enough light for them to press onward, as it had in the forest. On top of it all, she had Rinoa's assurance they would meet no resistance before reaching the tower's apex. There should have been nothing to fear for the moment. And yet, the constant creaking with each step taken still unnerved her to no end. The wood looked stable enough to support them, absent any missing planks or obvious patches of rot. So it should have been, given how relatively intact the rest of Ultimecia's stronghold was.
Thus far, Rinoa's guidance had done well to keep them clear of further danger. From the entrance hall, they'd navigated the network of ancient stone halls to reach the inner courtyard. Slowdowns had been few; every now and again, Rinoa would signal for her to halt, sidle along a given corridor's edge, swing wide of a particular statue or painting, and the like. In so doing, they'd managed to avoid tripping any further defenses while en route to the castle's summit. From the courtyard, they'd proceeded through the chapel, up to the rafters, and into the clock tower.
The route was an unconventional one; Quistis had difficulty imagining Ultimecia herself taking it to and from her throne room. But then, perhaps that was the entire point. Any unwelcome guests lacking knowledge of the castle's layout would tie themselves in knots in search of it, doomed to wander aimlessly until stumbling into their inevitable demise. And as for Ultimecia, there were surely other, more convenient options than taking the stairs; her recollection of Edea emerging from the void in Timber was still plenty vivid. She quickly glanced back over her shoulder, then down into the tower's dark base level from whence they'd come. Now that the thought had entered her mind, the possibility she might appear from the ether at any moment had become too real. If anything, she was surprised that she hadn't yet.
No! Stop it! How is making yourself paranoid going to help anything?
She pushed the worries away as best she could. The climb to the top was all that required her attention for the moment. Looking up, the flame's illumination had finally reached the gears and other assorted machinery above. None of it was in motion, having ground to a halt with time itself. Robbed of its purpose, it now only served to tell Quistis one thing: they were almost there. Sure enough, it only took roughly a minute before the catwalk ended at a door.
"Just a little further," Rinoa said, her voice naught but a whisper. She stepped past her, grabbed the handle, but didn't yet turn it; she instead looked back to Quistis with a deadly serious stare. "There's a pretty long bridge on the other side of this door. We're going to take it nice and slow. Don't make a sound until we're across it. Just follow my lead, keep low, and whatever you do, don't look over the edge."
Quistis hesitated, but nodded back. She had no reason to distrust Rinoa's judgment, nor any inclination to ask why; she had a feeling the knowledge of what awaited them below wouldn't make it any easier. She snuffed out the fire in her palm, leaving them in total darkness. Gradually, the light from outside peeked in as Rinoa cracked the door open. She moved slowly, deliberately, taking great effort to keep the hinges from making any noise. It hadn't even swung out halfway before she stopped, and sidled her way through the narrow gap. Quistis followed her lead out onto the stone bridge beyond.
The walkway extended for a good 100 yards or so to reach another, slightly stouter tower opposite. A short, waist-high banister rimmed either edge, each topped by a procession of evenly spaced apart lanterns and gargoyle statues. A vast moat of water sloshed beneath; though she kept her distance from the edge as instructed, she could see its waves shimmering in the moonlight as they lapped up against the fortress' surrounding inner walls. Rinoa crouched down as far as she could to the stone tiling. Quistis found it hard to imagine such extreme measures necessary, but wasn't prepared to go tempting fate. She again mimicked her, hunching as low as she comfortably could, and the two warily started down the middle in single file.
At an agonizingly slow pace they crawled their way across. Even before reaching the halfway point, Quistis was internally pleading with Rinoa to pick up the pace just a little; surely they could afford to move faster than this. There was no telling if or when those gleaming bogeys in the sky might swoop in for another pass. They were completely out in the open, basked in the lanterns' glow, with no cover beyond what little the gargoyles could potentially provide. For however much caution they were taking, she'd still yet to hear anything from below but the moat's waves cresting over one another. And then, it hit her.
Why are they moving at all?
She'd seen the ocean from Zell's house in Balamb, eternally frozen in time as all else. The moat should have been no different. That it actually was moving, let alone to such an extent, could only mean one thing: the presence of some external force was causing the water to react in such a way. Something truly massive in scale. And based on what Rinoa seemed to be implying, it was something Ultimecia had placed there to do away with any intruders who'd made it so far into the castle.
Swallowing her pride and keeping her mouth shut, Quistis continued to follow. Step by step, the tower at the end drew closer. She set her focus on its apex to keep from drifting too far from the center of the walkway. Holding onto the hem of Rinoa's outfit might have been more efficient, though she resisted the urge to reach out for it; the risk of spooking her with a sudden grab from behind was too great. Realizing she'd neglected her own rear for too long, she momentarily halted and turned back to look. And as she lifted her eyes to the night sky, she realized the time for caution had passed.
Oh no…
Despite having been taken captive, the exhilaration Squall felt as he and Gilgamesh soared across the Alcaud Plains was impossible to deny. A distance which had always taken the better part of a half-hour by car flew by in mere minutes. Together they stood within the translucent energy field, tethered to the flying sorceress just before them. No whipping wind passed through the barrier. Neither did he feel any shift in momentum as they pivoted in the air; absent the visual of the world passing by beneath their feet, he might have thought they were still planted firmly on the ground. Even aboard the Ragnarok, there had been the occasional jostle to throw him off balance in mid-flight.
If Gilgamesh was at all impressed, he let none of it show. He'd spoken not a word since they'd been lifted out of the town. And despite his own sense of wonder, Squall knew better than to let himself be caught up in the moment. Just ahead hovered the castle, uprooted from the earth no differently than Balamb Garden. Why Ultimecia had elected to build her base at the very spot where his own home once stood wasn't hard to guess. Where precisely they were to be deposited on arrival remained a mystery, however. He'd half expected to be taken to the dungeon, from where he and Gilgamesh would proceed to fight their way to the top. As they continued to climb towards the uppermost spires, he became hopeful that there would be no need.
Wouldn't it be nice to have our own private audience?
Eventually they cleared the fortress' outer walls. Over the ramparts they soared, providing them a bird's eye view of a wide open courtyard below. Squall barely spared it a glance; they showed no signs of slowing nor descending as they sped towards a tall clock tower on the other end. Beyond, a gaping waterway ran right through the middle of the castle, effectively splitting it in two. A single stone bridge connecting to the other side extended out just past the clock tower. As they made their approach, two crouched figures popped into view courtesy of the lanterns running along either banister. Instantly, he knew who they were, even before the one to the rear turned in their direction.
"Quistis! Rinoa!"
"Those are your friends?" Gilgamesh finally spoke up.
Squall tried waving to them as they flew in beside the clock tower's west face. It was no use; they clearly only had eyes for the sorceress hauling him along. They both broke into a sprint for the other end of the bridge as they came swooping in.
"We need to get down there," he replied.
The means to escape their imprisonment rested in the palm of his hand. How to cushion his fall was another matter; the flotation buffer he'd spent months learning to conjure was no longer possible for him. There was no time to mull over an alternative, however. They were already coming up over the bridge. It was now or never.
"Then what are you waiting for?" Gilgamesh said. "Strike now, and leave the landing to me."
"I'll hold you to that," Squall shot back, readying Zantetsuken.
"The same to you."
A firm clasp suddenly wrapped itself around his torso like a snake. Putting his trust in the man, he punched the sword's tip through the shield. It burst apart, ridding his surroundings of the intrusive violet filter. Gravity's pull returned a split second later. Down they fell, the still night air whipping in his face. His grip upon Zantetsuken's hilt remained tight and steadfast as Gilgamesh's own upon him. He scrunched shut his eyes as they neared the bridge's surface. A mighty crash resounded on impact. He jostled in the swordsman's grip, and yet remained upright. Peeking open one eye, he glanced down to assess the situation; whatever means his companion had employed had done the job.
His relief became confusion as the source of the constriction around his body came into sight. He rapidly blinked both eyes to be sure he wasn't seeing double, or rather triple. For encircling his frame were not one, not two, but three pale grey arms. Upon lowering him to his feet, they released him from their hold, one after another. In so doing, Squall's bewilderment only compounded further. They were all left arms; each one swung out in the same direction, all armored with a matching gauntlet.
He stumbled as he was let go. Steadying himself, he glanced ahead down the length of the bridge. Quistis and Rinoa continued to haul off away from him, not sparing a single look back. Concerned as he was curious, Squall gave Gilgamesh a courtesy check. By the time he'd turned around however, the man's limbs had already retreated back into the recesses of his cloak. He looked no worse for wear. His feet stood within a pair of deep imprints freshly hewn into the stone, but had the landing injured him in any way, it didn't show. His legs were anything but a normal human's. And now, he knew for sure, neither were his arms.
"What are yo-"
A great splash interrupted him. Water sprayed up as if from a geyser beside the bridge, prompting Squall to cover himself as it rained down. What rose from the depths in its wake beggared belief. He froze as he craned his neck up to it, his jaw left hanging open in awe.
To call the creature a giant would be to liken Gilgamesh or Ward to mere ants, and the hulking sorceress he'd faced back in Balamb to the worm it resembled. Even discounting its muscular arms, its upper torso was broader than the width of the bridge itself. So great was its height that much of its body remained obscured by darkness; it was but a colossal shadow towering just outside the reach of the lanterns. The otherworldly gleam of its eyes broke through, however. They burned with the same wicked fire of pure evil Squall had seen in those of the undead thrall aboard the president's train. The roar which next escaped its gnarled maw shook both him and the walkway beneath his feet.
Another familiar light engulfed him before he could shake off his astonishment. He craned his neck back down and frantically looked all around through the violet shimmer. Off to the opposite side of the bridge hovered the sorceress, intent on recapturing him. He cut himself free just as quickly; she would have followed were she not out of his range. He prepared to run, when a shove to the back sent him tumbling head over heels. Had that not knocked him off balance, the tremor to follow absolutely would have. Zantetsuken flew from his hand as the bridge rocked once more, furthering his disorientation. As he finally came to a rest lying prone, he pushed himself up, and rolled himself over onto his rear to survey the damage.
Up Gilgamesh's tattered red cloak wafted; absent its wearer, it limply floated through the air and over the edge. Behind, one of the titan's gargantuan hands rested atop the bridge's surface. Or rather, just over it; a comparatively minuscule gap remained between its palm and the stone surface. And there the pale swordsman stood within the divide, holding it aloft.
Squall rapidly blinked his eyes in disbelief once again. The sight they now beheld had to be yet another trick of time compression; there was just no way the man's physique could be a product of nature in any reality. His build was predictably muscular, his chest laid bare, his lower half adorned by a meager loincloth and nothing more. That he could match the monster's strength using only three arms was incredible. That he still had two more, each preoccupied with holding one of his swords, was astounding.
Five?!
Four extended from his left side as opposed to only one from his right. And yet, upon giving him another look over, Squall noticed the three cauterized stumps protruding but slightly above his lone right arm. He must have had an even eight in total at one time.
And he outmatched me with only one…
He stabbed both Excalibur and Masamune up into the hand. With another roar, the titan sharply pulled it back as if from resting on a hot stove. Gilgamesh wasted no time. With a pair of nimble bounds – now all the more impressive to Squall given how much body mass he was carrying – he leapt up onto the bridge's banister, and from there out to meet his foe anew. He landed upon the creature with the two swords sticking into its gut. It screamed again and swiped down at him, but he was already on the move.
Squall, still speechless, at least knew better than to keep gawking. He quickly scanned the walkway around his vicinity. Within moments, he spotted Zantetsuken lying a short ways off. He started to reach for it, but halted in mid motion as a fireball whizzed past his face. He reeled back and turned to face its source. The floating sorceress had yet to give up on him. As it readied another shot, he snatched up the sword as quick as he could and rolled out of the way. Sparing a glance back down the bridge to where Quistis and Rinoa had retreated, the doors to the tower at the end were shut tight. They had not seen fit to double back, nor likely even seen him at all.
Whatever. Just hurry up and take her down, you two…
Her non-existent heartbeat somehow still pounding in her ears, Quistis held her breath as she braced the doors with her hands. There was no need, for her body needed no air. Even so, it was all she could do to calm herself. Her relief to have cleared the bridge in time was what did the trick for the time being. She hadn't dared to look back from the moment she'd convinced Rinoa to book it the rest of the way with her. That first mighty tremor had only forced her to pour on the speed even more. As yet another, even bigger one thundered outside, she knew she'd been right to follow her instincts.
"Come on!"
She craned her neck back to Rinoa, standing behind.
"That thing could still bring down the roof on us!" she frantically urged her. "Let's go!"
Quistis nodded, pulled back her hands from the doors, and followed her down the hall ahead. Torches lined the walls to either side. Their flames flickered and danced without regard for time compression, just as the candles in the entrance hall. They could only have managed so by Ultimecia's handiwork, each another beckoning light to lure them further into the darkness. Rinoa's unwavering pace was enough motivation for Quistis to keep up her own. Yet more crashes sounded from behind, still within earshot, but fading further. And then, they arrived.
A grand oaken doorway impeded their path, engraved with symmetrical etchings of black angel wings. Quistis needed no further confirmation. She could feel it in her bones; whether in victory or defeat, their journey's end lay just beyond.
Let's get it over with.
She stepped up to the left hand door, just as Rinoa to the right. They turned to each other, nodded, and slowly pushed. The hinges had barely begun to squeak when both doors suddenly flew wide open. Quistis jumped as they both slammed against the adjoining walls.
The circular chamber beyond sported no roof. High above, the moon and stars shone in plain sight, as if with the intent to play spectator. Decorative spires stretching up to meet them ringed the exterior. On the inside, tall golden pillars sat arrayed around the rim. Six formed another, smaller circle further in towards the center, holding up a gilded halo-like edifice. Beneath stood a wide elevated pedestal. Atop it sat a throne framed by two blazing sconces. And upon that, their fated enemy.
The scarlet gown she wore parted down the middle, leaving little to the imagination. Her cleavage, stomach, and legs were all on full display, with her nipples barely concealed. Tattoos of various swirling designs and colors imprinted across her body provided the only other source of covering. They reached even to her face; angular violet markings resembling war paint framed either eye, their irises the same yellow Edea, Adel, and Rinoa's had all gleamed with under her control. Bangs of white hair longer even than Quistis' own trailed down on either side. The rest sat above, fashioned into a twin-tail style which resembled a pair of horns.
"I might have known who was making all that noise," she called to them with a wicked smile. "We meet at last. Please, come in."
She raised one arm and gestured with a finger for them to enter. To Quistis' alarm, it was more of a talon, for her hands were in fact sharpened claws. She might have assumed they were a pair of gloves until she looked at her bare feet dangling off the platform; they were much the same, straddling the line between human and beast. And as Quistis acceded, stepping forward into the room with Rinoa, she realized the feathery black cape draped upon her back was no cape at all. They were wings of the same shape and color as those etched on the doors.
Not sure what I was expecting…
The doors slammed shut behind just as abruptly as they'd opened. She jolted again as she reflexively looked over her shoulder. As she turned back, Ultimecia raised her hand again, this time to the sky. A shimmer of energy rippled across the open ceiling from end to end.
"So that we won't have any distractions," the sorceress explained as she returned her attention to them. "It's been so long since I've had the pleasure of meeting another of my kind, much less two. I appreciate that you've come to deliver yourselves to me. And here I was, thinking my minions would have to scour the entire world in search of you and your friends. A shame I can no longer travel through the void in this state of time compression. I might have found you myself sooner. But it no longer matters. You've saved me a great deal of trouble. And so much more room in the dungeon, besides."
"Are you really so eager to lose?" Rinoa shot back.
Quistis turned her head to her in amazement. To think she could still act so bold in the face of this woman, who'd spent months mercilessly tormenting her within her own mind. Ultimecia's smirk became a stony glower. She promptly shut her eyes, gripping tight to one armrest.
"Not this time," she menaced through gritted teeth. "What more do I have to lose now? What has my existence ever been but one loss after another? The loss of my own dignity. The loss of anyone I could ever call a friend. The loss of any chance at a normal life."
Her eyes suddenly opened. Enraged, she directed one of her talons to Quistis.
"Yet you!" she snarled. "How is it that they accept you after all this?!"
Me?
"So much has been left unrecorded in the archives of SeeD, including the power you hold. How is it that you of all people can leave behind such a legacy in spite of it, while fate has condemned me to suffer? It's a sick joke!"
Quistis understood nothing of what Ultimecia was ranting about. Indeed, ever since she'd come to terms with having inherited the sorceress power, her future seemed all the more bleak for it. Could it be the devilish woman in red actually knew what fate held in store for her?
"What… what do you…?" she stuttered.
"Life's not fair," Rinoa interrupted her. "Some of us come into it better off than others. Sometimes things happen that are beyond our control, and there's no changing that. Those are the cards we've been dealt. And sometimes… you don't even realize the hand you have, or how grateful you should be just to have that much."
Quistis looked to her again, now even more astounded than before. This was far removed from the stroppy, rebellious girl who'd acted so rudely to her father in Deling City.
"But… like it or not, everyone has a responsibility to play their own cards the best they can. To beat the odds, and make something of their life, for themselves and the people they care about. Who cares if you've had it rough? So have plenty of people, and I don't want to hear any more about how fate's done you wrong. You're the one who chose to let the past define you. You're the one who refused to change. Not fate, not the world, you! All you've done is throw that responsibility away, and try to drag the rest of us down to your level instead. You're no victim here. You're just a petty, conceited bitch!"
Total silence fell over the throne room, punctuated only by another distant rumble from whence they'd come. Quistis was at a loss for words. Though Rinoa's were no less biting than when they'd had their own falling out months ago, the attitude they were steeped in couldn't have been more different. This was not the smarmy vitriol of a spoiled princess. This was a declaration of moral righteousness, a refutation of everything Ultimecia's actions and worldview stood opposed to. Quistis couldn't have laid it all out better herself, nor agreed more. Predictably, the red queen was not amused. She sat on high, brow furrowed, stewing in rage, until she finally reached out her hand.
"How brazen you've become," she scoffed. "Whatever could give you the gall to speak to me in such a way?"
Rinoa's response was but a gasp. She clutched at her neck as the silver chain she wore suddenly snapped and fell to her feet. Squall's ring flew clear off, to be caught between Ultimecia's finger and thumb.
"But of course," the witch cackled as she examined the band. "Tell me… is your faith in him truly so unshakable?"
Quistis knew it to be so, just as her own.
"Perhaps you even now long for him to come running to your rescue? You will before the end, I assure you. And I can think of no sweeter irony than to see that same adoration become the face of your undoing."
Her claw came alight as a shimmering radiance engulfed the ring. She swiftly cast it down from her throne. As it hit the stone floor, the energy exploded outward, forcing Quistis to reel back. She brought up her hand, squinting through the light. A bulky, bi-pedal shape rapidly materialized before them. It soon far surpassed the realm of human height, and even physiology if the massive appendages which sprouted from its rear were anything to go by. After about five seconds longer, the light faded. The sight of what now stood in the space between the two of them and Ultimecia nearly caused her to lose her footing.
The lion, its body covered in dark fur with a sheer white mane, stood upright on its two hind legs. Five sharp crimson spokes jutted out from atop its skull like a headdress, along with two even larger ones protruding from either forearm. Its tail was easily as long as Quistis' whip, topped off with yet another blade at the end. Like Ultimecia herself, it sported a pair of wings; they resembled a dragon's in design, yet were composed of white angel feathers.
"Split up!" she called to Rinoa.
The girl nodded and bolted right. Quistis shot off to the left as the beast roared and came swooping in for the kill.
Squall just managed to get himself clear as the titan's massive hand came slamming down once again. Besides avoiding being crushed, he hoped the bridge's structural integrity would continue to hold; the indent left as the creature lifted its paw back up was just the latest of several. Gilgamesh's persistence was his only buffer. Still clinging to its side, the five-armed man kept skewering his way up towards its neckline. It would occasionally take another swat at him, as if to shoo away a bothersome mosquito; such was the extent of the damage Excalibur and Masamune were effectively doing with each stab. Unfortunately, it still seemed more preoccupied with Squall. At no point did it pivot its stare down to Gilgamesh, or make a concerted effort to smite him. It too apparently couldn't visually discern him. For all intents and purposes, Squall was its only adversary.
What I wouldn't give to have it that easy!
He dove again as another fireball from the sorceress came flying at him. As he continued dodging the colossus, it kept taking pot shots or otherwise trying to recapture him. Having to swivel his attention between the two wasn't sustainable; he was sure to slip up before long. With one opponent beyond his capability to fend off, and the other out of range, he could do nothing but keep on the move until Gilgamesh finally subdued the titan. Perhaps he would have already with Zantetsuken on hand. That Squall could offer him no assistance was most crushing of all. He could never hope to scale its body the same way, regardless of the sorceress' presence. If only he had another way.
And then, it hit him. It was undoubtedly risky move, but one he had to take; he knew he wouldn't last much longer. He broke into a sprint back towards the clock tower, keeping one eye on the gargantuan monster. It soon brought down its left hand ahead of him with a crash, palm facing inward. He didn't slow as it swept forward. He instead deviated outward to the bridge's edge, and swung Zantetsuken as its fingers prepared to ensnare him. The ring finger and pinky were cleanly severed with one swing, allowing him to pass safely underneath the rest. The titan's howl shook the bridge nearly to the extent of its repeated blows. Still, Squall kept his balance and his pace. On he charged down the ruined bridge, weaving around upturned stone and shattered gargoyles.
His dash came to an abrupt halt as a familiar violet roadblock impeded his path. This time, he made no effort to cut through; he skidded to a stop and turned back. The colossal creature, still reeling from losing its fingers, continued flailing its other hand along its body in pursuit of Gilgamesh. Squall barely had time to make an estimate before the bubble sealed and he began rising up with it. Had he truly cleared enough distance? Given a steady enough ascent, he figured so.
It'll have to do.
The sorceress dragged him into the sky once again. To his surprise, the speed of their ascent far exceeded that of their horizontal movement. It didn't take long for him to see why: the titan was diverting his way, paying no heed to the fact he was in custody. Where before he'd been concerned about not having enough height, now having too much could potentially be the issue. Up the sorceress climbed, fighting to get herself clear. Closer the monster drew, bringing itself into position. Squall was already higher than he'd hoped to be by the time it was just below. There was no time for second guessing, however; he needed to act now. And as his massive foe reached its hand up to pluck him from mid-air, he took the leap of faith.
Here goes!
He jumped forward with Zantetsuken held out, puncturing the bubble as he did so. Out and over top of the hand he flew. And then, down he fell. As his back hit the creature's arm and he started sliding, fortune favored him at last; somehow, his ploy had gone off even better than anticipated. He quickly flipped the sword into a reverse grip, leaned forward, and pushed off with his feet again. He soared straight for the monster's head, and plunged the blade into its skull between both eyes.
There came no roar as Zantetsuken embedded itself to the hilt, leaving him dangling. Neither did the titan reach for him, nor offer any kind of reaction; it stood completely frozen in place. Shoved in so deep, the sword had more than likely pierced its brain. He hung fast to the handle, his grip tight as he could manage. And then, he felt himself sway inward but slightly as the monster's body started to lean. Down it began to tumble into the moat below. The moment he could plant a foot firmly, he pulled the scimitar free and started scrambling back down along its fast reclining body.
He charged at top speed for the bridge's banister. The distance between only furthered as the torso continued to level out. By the time he was near enough to jump, he was on the verge of sinking out of reach. Desperate, he leapt for safety.
Please!
A sudden boost of momentum answered his prayer. It slammed into him from behind, carrying him up and over the railing. The landing was hard, but he couldn't have cared less; the giant splash from below which met his ears was satisfaction plenty. He pushed himself up, and turned his head back in time to see Gilgamesh fire a bolt of lightning from his hand into the sky. It hit the sorceress dead on before she could evade. With a shriek, she shriveled up and faded away like so many before.
"Th-thanks," Squall stammered as he rose to his feet.
He glanced down to Zantetsuken in his hand. Its once pristine blade was now thoroughly soaked with the titan's blood and brain matter. He held it out to one side and gingerly fanned it to let off whatever excess he could; even if he had a sufficient rag, he would never attempt to clean this weapon by hand, knowing what it could do. He prepared to apologize, when he saw Excalibur and Masamune were in no better shape. Gilgamesh swung each out over the edge of the bridge in turn.
"When first we crossed paths, you were but a boy to my eyes," the five-armed man spoke.
A boy?
Squall hesitated. Did he mean the first time they'd crossed blades? Or was he in fact referring to that day 13 years ago? Had he remembered at last?
"But now, I see how wrong I was."
He strode up to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You are truly a man among men. One I am proud to fight alongside."
Whether or not he did recall, Gilgamesh's praise meant the world to him. And for just a moment, Squall could swear he even saw a twinge of emotion in the man's empty gaze. He smiled contentedly and nodded back.
"You as well."
Squall extended his left hand. Gilgamesh clasped it with one of his other free ones, and they shook.
You're far from what I expected, too. In more ways than one.
Several glimmers of light cresting over the castle diverted his attention. He looked up to see yet more flying sorceresses making their approach, presumably hauling along even more captives.
"Let's go," he said. He released from the handshake and turned on his heel. "Rinoa and Quistis need us."
"Lead the way," Gilgamesh replied.
Rinoa dove aside as the winged lion swiped its paw at her. Beyond merely its talons, there were the sharpened spokes jutting out from its forearms just behind to account for; each was the length of a greatsword. And even as both swooshed past, she still wasn't out of harm's way. In came the tail, striking for her like a serpent. She barely managed to duck for cover behind the nearby pillar in time. This was a foe much faster and more nimble than the crystal monster had been. Its assault left her without any chance to even formulate a counterattack, let alone take action.
Fortunately, that was where Quistis came in. Another pained roar resounded. Rinoa steeled her courage, and peeked back out. The lion had spun around. Quistis stood her ground on the other side of the hall, her hands gleaming with magical light. She hurled another blast. The creature evaded as it took flight with a beat of its wings. Before it could soar too far away, Rinoa launched her own ball of energy. It howled again on impact, careening off course, and nearly clipping the back of Ultimecia's throne. The scowl upon her face was a sight more assuring than any visible damage done to her minion.
Slow and steady.
However formidable their foe, the advantage was theirs by virtue of number. Spread out as they were, the lion could only direct its focus to one of them at a time. The moment it diverted for one, so the other would go on the attack. Neither she nor Quistis had slipped up thus far. And so long as they continued to keep their wits about them, their eventual victory was assured. With the open air above still barred off courtesy of Ultimecia's magic, there was nowhere it could retreat to.
Back around the creature circled, finally coming to a stop in mid-air in the center of the room. For the first time, it charged neither for Rinoa nor Quistis, electing to idle in place. Rinoa prepared to fire another shot; she wasn't about to let a golden opportunity go to waste. Before she could even gather the energy in her palm however, a blast of dark energy shot out from the lion in a semi-circular ring. Instantly, she felt the gravitational swell drawing her in. She fought against it with all her might, forcing her heels down to keep herself grounded. The pull was too strong, however; forward she slid across the stone floor, just as Quistis far to her left.
Working at speed, she fought to conjure another blast of sufficient potency. She couldn't allow the lion to bring them together into close proximity, lest their only advantage be wiped away in an instant. Vying to focus her mind while resisting being drawn in further was no easy task. Something had to give soon. To her surprise and delight, it was the gravitational pull which faltered first; it abruptly let go, almost throwing her off balance completely. As she steadied herself, she looked to their airborne foe, and immediately recognized the cause.
Quistis had lassoed her whip around the lion's tail. Up along its length surged a current of electricity, just as she'd managed during their confrontation with Adel. The creature roared as it spasmed, and dropped to the ground on all fours.
"What are you waiting for?!" she yelled. "Hit it with everything you've got!"
No longer encumbered by the gravity spell, she brought forth the holy energy into her hand again. Before she could let it fly however, the lion's body began emitting a light all its own; it rapidly coalesced into a swirling pillar of energy, producing a shrill whistling as it churned.
"The beast's true power!" Ultimecia's voice cut through over top. "Allow me to show you!"
The accumulated energy exploded out at her command. Rinoa barely managed to convert the power she'd already amassed into a shield before it reached her. Even then, it wasn't enough; she was swept off her feet and sent hurtling back by the shockwave pulse. Her back slammed hard into a pillar, knocking the wind from her lungs with a pained gasp. Her vision had gone completely white. Her ears could hear nothing but the persistent shrilling of the attack as it overtook the entire room.
She fell forward as it at last died down, barely catching herself with both palms as she hit the floor. She raised her head to survey the devastation. There the lion remained hunched down upon all fours in the center. Surrounding it was a blackened scorch mark to shame the one the crystal monster had left behind. And just before it stood Quistis, holding fast to a frayed, decrepit strand of metal which had once been her whip. She moved not an inch. Not to retreat, nor even to evade as the beast roared and took a swipe at her. The blow sent her flying backward where the energy blast had failed. What was left of the whip's chain shattered as she flailed like a rag doll.
"Quistis!" Rinoa shouted her name as she raced to her side.
By the time she reached her side, dropped to her knees, and pulled her limp body into her arms, it was obvious there was nothing she could do; the blast had left her utterly destroyed at such close range. Her outfit's fore was completely torn to shreds. What splotches of skin peeked through the shredded fabric were thoroughly charred, along with more than half of her face. Her eyes, wide open yet glazed over, refused to blink. And as a shimmering haze wafted up from her, Rinoa's disbelief became despair.
"No!" she screamed.
The sensation as the energy seeped into her every pore was much the same as when she'd received both Edea and Adel's. What happened next, however, was anything but. Like glass, Quistis' broken figure shattered within her arms. The shards evaporated and faded into nothingness, leaving Rinoa grasping at thin air where her dear friend once lay. Her eyes wide, her senses numb, and her mind still refusing to accept reality, she stayed frozen in place, oblivious to all else. The lion might have let loose a victory roar. Ultimecia might have even gleefully cackled in the face of her misery, but none of it registered to her. The anguish was too great, her sorrow too suffocating. It was inconceivable. It couldn't have happened. It shouldn't have happened. But it had.
Quistis was dead.