Final Fantasy VIII 1. Far Distant Shore

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: The songs "Evening Falls" and "Exile" belong to Enya. The characters of FF8 belong to Square.

A/N: This fic will be split into two parts titled Exile and Evening Falls respectively. All of the lyrics preceding chapters are from these two songs by Enya, both of which can be found on her Watermark album. Setting is post game.

Howl of the Delian Wolf

  


Part 1: Exile

Cold as the northern winds  
In December mornings.  
Cold is the cry that rings  
From this far distant shore.

Chapter 1: Far Distant Shore

The snow was just starting to fall as the sun crept fearfully over the rocky horizon. It was always coldest right before dawn, impending sunlight only making the chill sharper and more penetrating. In the hazy gloom, the valley yawned, puffing out a foggy breath into the crystallized air that filtered down from the heavens. The populace of the tiny mountain town of White Pine were called from their beds, rising like zombies out of the mists of the netherworld. Each arose from dream, some never to be remembered, and others vivid as the morning sun. They yawned, stretched, and grumbled accordingly. Dogs barked, waiting to be walked, completely unaware of how the brisk air made their masters suck in their breath and shudder. The morning had, as the local weather man had become fond of calling it, a booger freezing potency.

Slumber slipped away, consciousness gained hold once again in the life long struggle between wakefulness and passing. Another day with no sense of particular singularity. Fuzzy socks were pulled on one foot at a time, pants zipped. Coffee began to brew, percolating through filters and dropping into stained receptacles. Everything seemed to be in order, a seamless launching pad for a peaceful existence.

Such was the morning that stood to be broken -- utterly and seamlessly.

At the corner of Fifth and Tabriz Avenue, a white ranch style home rested in dark quiet. It was the style of small towns such as this one to build on a block pattern, mimicking the supreme organization of a chess board, and name the streets from east to west following the sun through the sky. First Street West, all the way to Twelfth Street West; all of which were intersected by a nearly equal number of streets that were named without any sort of rhyme or reason. This home, set on Fifth rested near the heart of the town, only a stone's throw away from the church and a block from the general store which was, naturally, on Main Street.

The discovery was made early on in the morning when Patricia Marin didn't show up for work in a neighboring town where she was a nurse. Patricia's sister, Alana, received a call from the clinic that her sister hadn't shown up that morning (and a rather impatient demand as to where she was). Alana crossed the street to see for herself, only to have a non-response to her knock on the door.

Local officials jimmied the lock and discovered her body in the bathroom.

Blood was smeared across the linoleum tiles, turned to the consistency of a rich acrylic paint. Her white bathtub was dented, presumably from the impact of Patricia's head. The officer in charge of the investigation had only been at the scene of a few other murders in his life, but there was still no doubt in his mind that there was foul play involved.

He dipped a gloved finger into the small dent, noting the strength of the hybrid plastic material and the damage done to her skull. Still wrapped in her white terrycloth robe, she was sprawled on her stomach with bits of hair and blood laying all around her. Her mat of blonde hair was caked with fluids of all sorts from the attack, and her back was a study in stab wounds. Slashed, shredded...rage and fury, he could hardly imagine the motivation behind such a brutal attack.

White Pine recoiled under the news, which spread like a grass fire through the town. Alana Marin was frantic and inconsolable, and by the time any forensic investigators arrived from distant Esthar a dark air had sunk over the yawning, blissful day.

Patricia Marin was dead. One of their own.

White Pine braced itself for the worst.

And far up in the hills, under the cover of a large white pine for which the town was named, yellow eyes watched over the proceedings with rapt interest.

***

Quistis rolled over in bed and listened to the rain slapping against her window. There was hardly any good news in the sound of water trickling through Garden's water shed system. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, not quite ready to get up yet. Her night had been filled with tossing and turning as she struggled to find sleep amidst the haze of darkness that filled her hot room. She'd kicked off the covers an innumerable amount of times only to drag them back over herself and roll over to try sleeping on her other side. Nothing had seemed to work, and in the light of morning she felt uncertain as to whether she had slept at all.

December always brought her mixed feelings. The unceasing rain was one thing, and the sugary, tinkling essence of the holiday season was another. It reminded her of too much that she wasn't willing to relive. The drizzle and the lights, the cookies and the colors all blurred into one amateur finger painting that she was eager to throw out but knew she couldn't. So it hung there like a festering wound on her metaphorical fridge, haunting her.

A groan erupted unbidden from her as she stretched the sleep out of her muscles and got out of bed.

Her legs (perfect legs, as she'd once been told) had crease marks from her sheets being twisted around them and the pink nail polish on her toes seemed suddenly tacky. Sighing, she vowed to replace it with a more inconspicuous hue before going to bed again.

Quistis Trepe: feminine, smart, and strong. That was her engineered persona. Quistis Trepe was the person she worked on at night, perfecting the guise and keeping track of the lies. There was so much she'd never said, things she locked away. Communicating some things wasn't very easy, especially to those who might not be inclined to listen, and her unmatched drive managed to convince everyone that she was firmly on the ground.

"Morning," she muttered to her reflection in the mirror. Her other self said nothing in return, her lips moving in a mime but no sound coming out.

Mirrors obscured the world they were meant to reflect. Standing in her bathroom, Quistis had a difficult time remembering that what she was seeing didn't exist as a whole other room. Had someone thought to take the mirror down, she would have been shocked at the cramped quarters her toilet and shower existed in.

Brushed teeth and brushed hair, she stepped out into the noisy Garden hallways. Her SeeD uniform was spotless and a rich black. The elevator came to the ground floor with a soft _ding_ just as she arrived as if she alone commanded it. Her office waited, as did duty. She would smile and do her job, and she'd do it well. And nobody would know the difference. Not a soul.

Lieutenant Commander, it had a nice ring to it. Very military, she reflected. With such a title, she would be privy to secret documents and intrigue. Her life would be a blockbuster movie of shootouts, spies, computer hackers, and various hot disguises. None of these, however, were forthcoming as she stepped into her pristine office on the third floor.

A red light on her phone was blinking angrily, and she checked her watch. Eleven past ten, she'd slept in far too late for someone in her position.

Picking up the phone, she pressed a series of buttons to check her voice mail.

"Message one," came the automated voice, followed by a pause. She sat back and pressed the button for speaker phone.

"Ms. Trepe," a male voice erupted from the black phone's little speaker. "This is Soren Montgomery with the DCMRU. We received a call last night concerning one of your SeeDs. A Mr. Jackson was found engaged with another individual under the Deling City Arch at approximately 2:41 AM. Both are in our custody for breaking our new law concerning concealed weapons and - "

Quistis sighed and skipped ahead to the nest message, tired of receiving bitchy complaints from the DCMRU. The Deling City Mobile Response Unit was a new division of their local law enforcement agency, one that seemed to specialize in making a SeeD's life difficult. They certainly seemed to be targeting anyone they suspecting of being with Garden, sending them to jail without preamble. She would send a note to the headmaster to get Jackson's bail posted.

"Message two," the computer voice announced.

"Hello," a woman this time. "I understand that Garden contracts out to civilian parties? If this is the case, then I would like to hire two SeeDs to follow my husband and confirm that he is having an affair. I would like his accomplice identified and taken into custody."

Quistis didn't wait to hear the woman's name. She would come back to her request later.

Moving on.

"Message three."

"This is Patrick Lee with the Esthar Police Department," said a tired voice. "We would like to contract out two available SeeDs to investigate some recent murders that have occurred in Trabia just north of here. We don't have the man power or the jurisdiction to handle them. The small town of White Pine has been the site of the most recent homicide, although evidence there has lead us to believe that the woman was in fact attacked by an animal." He paused and then continued. "The contract would be to find the animal involved. Please phone me back at the EPD."

That sounded interesting. He'd hinted to murders and animal attacks in the same space of words. Curious enough to spike Quistis' waning interest with the day in general. She would send two SeeDs to check it out. As fascinating as the White Pine assignment could turn out to be, people would be jumping at it.

In the meantime...she needed some coffee.

She looked around the office, reminded again that she had no secretary. That was really an issue she needed to bring up at the next faculty meeting. The paperwork was getting to take up as much of her time as what she was supposed to be doing, handing the incoming and outgoing missions for the Garden.

Banging her blue, white, and black Garden issue cup against her desk for good measure, she pushed herself up out of her chair and out the door to retrieve some of the brew from the lounge. A healthy dose of sugar dissolved into the liquid with her stiff stirring until her taste buds were satisfied.

Now, finally, she could get to work.

Flipping through SeeD profiles on her computer, she searched for two qualified SeeDs ready to take a trip out to White Pine. She'd never been there, but she'd heard it was lovely.

Even beauty could breed evil, it seemed.

***

Sweat and blood and so much more than just a little fear.

Twisted, gnarled...snarling, slobbering, wet: he screamed. Long, howling, haunting screams.

The day dissolved him, working through memories of the woman. The woman he had torn to pieces, his claws working against her bathroom tile as his teeth worked at her back. It was a symphony. A rattling thunderstorm complete with sticky rain -- the blood that he could still smell and taste. She hadn't seen him coming. They never did.

The snow didn't feel cold under him, although he knew that it should.

Sniffing, searching, paranoid.

They were here, he knew they were. They were following him, always in his steps. They slid through the snow and trees the same way fish darted through the sea with only a flash of silver to mark their passing. So close behind him. Too close.

Go away. Go away.

He howled. More...were those echoes?

No more.

Swallowed up by the snow, the monster fled with a blind cry into the nameless forest of trees that crept up the mountain side toward the point where the cold was too harsh and air too thin for them to live. Patricia Marin's blood still wet his tongue. And following his tracks was the ever looming amber gaze that had so recently come to haunt the beast's existence.


	2. Winter

Winter has come too late  
Too close beside me

Chapter 2: Winter

Seifer was cold. Not just any cold, but the farthest reaches of hell kind of cold. He couldn't remember how long he'd been walking, he only knew that it had been far too long. Snow and ice had worked their way under his very skin, and he was quite positive that his blood was starting to crystallize. He felt numb to the world, his brain hardly ticking along and his senses dulled.

Yet again, Seifer was moving. Life had turned him into a nomad, wandering the earth in search of that one place he could stop and stay in.

The end of time compression had found him back in Balamb, sitting in the company of his faithful posse. He was on the mend, and they both swore to help him. That, like so much else, was not quite meant to be. Not a soul in Balamb wanted him there, and it was impossible for him to get a job in a place where everyone felt he might murder them in their sleep. So, he left.

Moving on.

He went, for some incomprehensible reason, to Fisherman's Horizon. They were slightly more tolerant of his past than others, believing in second chances and always the ability to reform. They were the one place that didn't have capital punishment, which was certainly a plus at the very top of Seifer's list. Maritine had been there, still wandering around in his Galbadia Garden coat and bemoaning the fact that he had stumbled so severely and lost his job. He blamed this loss almost entirely upon Seifer.

No peace to be found.

Seifer moved again.

He'd walked along the railroad tracks to Esthar. The train going to and from Esthar was still not functioning, the tracks blocked off and the Great Salt Lake at the end of the line. Without flying in, Esthar was a remarkably difficult place to visit. He made his way through the salt flats, taking some time to crawl over the huge bones that littered the place. They were like a giant playground, filled with bizarre caves, slides, and ladders.

He stayed in Esthar for a while, jumping between odd jobs and cheap apartments.

Even at night, he reflected, Esthar crawled with activity. The neon and halogen lights never went out, always bathing the city in an unearthly glow. In the halo, there was always crowded activity. People prowling, people working, and people just looking for a place to be etched the story of their lives into the resin blue highways. He had never really adapted to wearing the floor length, pastel robes that everyone there seemed to like. They felt all too much like a dress, which Seifer would never lower himself to. The only bright side of their style was that his only distinguishing characteristic became his scar. Or...scars. He had so many now. Haunted, horrible, painful scars. They never went away.

Currently he was in Trabia, the land of nowhere and nothing. He looked around at the blanket of snow that covered the ground, only able to make out trees and hillsides. Everything had been green when he arrived with wildflowers blossoming and berry bushes ripe with their summer riches. Trabia had been full of promise then. But winter had stripped all of that away. And now, wandering aimlessly through the wilderness in search of another town and another job, he resented the circumstances that had driven him away from a normal life.

His toes wiggled inside his boots, numb from the cold that had seeped through them.

Another town, another day, and another life. He came up over a rise, weary and ready to stop. Employment was his real problem. Who wanted to hire one of the world's most infamous men? Apparently nobody did.

He was lucky in one respect. There was no real central government established in Trabia. No taxes. He could be self-sufficient. No demands were going to be made upon his simply existing.

He looked down into the valley over the town that laid nestled there. He'd been here before...what was it called?

Ekalaka. Right.

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he descended down into the little piece of suburbia.

***

Selphie looked over her shoulder at the two SeeDs set to go to Trabia. Selphie was one of Garden's only pilots, and she was in charge of coordinating flights and was the only person allowed to fly the Ragnarok -- currently the fastest mode of transportation outside of Esthar. They had, after all, built the Ragnarok (and several others like it) years ago. They were notoriously stingy about sharing their technology, so nothing since then had filtered out. All of the Garden officials were shocked when Esthar failed to ask for the return of their ship, and then refused once it was offered. The current theory as to why this had occurred was that they considered the technology to be already compromised. Indeed, engineers from all over the world were interested to get a look at it, hoping to replicate it for their own governments.

In the mean time, however, Ragnarok was Selphie's baby. She knew every inch of metal on it, from the shiny red hull to the smallest bolt.

And to think, she thought, _that I used to think a train ride was ultimate rush._

A ride on a train was nothing in comparison to the high-flying, pulse throbbing power of the Ragnarok.

"Excited?" she asked the two SeeD's seated behind her. Clouds were racing by the cockpit windows as she turned to glance at them.

"Yeah...sure," one of them shrugged. Darshan Zinnovy, martial arts specialists, had a number of weapons in his arsenal. All of these were attached at various places along his body. A short sword rested against his back (short enough, at least, so that he could sit while wearing it). Along his belt were a number of little bags containing God knows what. Selphie had heard all sorts of rumors about him -- that he was into developing new poisons and would attack from long range with them by tipping all of his darts, that he practiced dark forms of magic and cursed all of his weapons so no one else would be able to use them. Selphie had no idea how many of the rumors were true, but she wasn't inclined to ask him about them.

"That didn't sound very excited," she pointed out.

"Running off to Trabia to kill one monster isn't exactly the thrill of a lifetime," Darshan replied.

"I think it sounds like fun," the other SeeD added in. Her name was Bella Cevario, a somewhat unlikely companion to Darshan Zinnovy. She was petite and looked like a porcelain doll next to the burly Zinnovy, even though Bella had a good inch on Selphie. Bella was a heavy magic user, not strong enough to use many weapons efficiently. However, her magic skills were nearly unparalleled among SeeDs of her rank. An impressive young woman who Quistis was unusually friendly with. She was, Selphie realized, a lot like Quistis in many respects.

They had the same golden blonde hair and blue eyes. Bella was smaller and (if it was possible) more feminine. But they both had the same drive to achieve that had marked Quistis as a prodigy years ago.

Selphie grinned at her. "That's more like it!" She pumped a hand into the air.

"Where are we being dropped off at?" Bella asked. "You can't land in the mountains, can you?"

"Well, yes and no," Selphie replied. "I can land in the mountains if there's a space big enough. White Pine doesn't have that, so we're going to land in a nearby town that's much bigger and has an airport."

"An airport in Trabia?" Darshan growled. "You must be joking."

"Nope," Selphie replied, her mood as springy as ever despite Zinnovy's various attempts to flatten it. He forgot that she'd spent a very long time in the company of Squall, the ultimate mood cruncher. "It's about 30 some miles east of White Pine. I already called ahead to clear our landing...a place called Ekalaka."

"Ee-kuh-laa-kuh," Bella said the name slowly. "Interesting name."

Darshan rolled his eyes.

"Quistis told me that there would be an EPD detective there to meet you," Selphie informed them. "A man named Patrick Lee. He's the one who is named in the contract, so you'll be following his orders. He apparently has some specifics on the monster you're going to be after."

"Trabia's a no man's land," Darshan shook his head. "Finding a specific monster there is like finding a needle in a haystack."

"Then it should be a nice challenging mission," Selphie grinned, probably a little more broadly than was necessary. She felt bad for Bella that she had to work with the very unenthusiastic Darshan. She knew the feeling first hand. Although, Bella didn't seem particularly disturbed by her partner and her lips were curved slightly upward in a low smile.

Selphie tapped one of the on board displays.

"We should be getting there soon," she announced. "Are you buckled in? We're probably going to run into a couple bumps on the way in."

***

Seifer, along with almost every other resident of Ekalaka, looked up toward the sky as the giant red dragon that was the Ragnarok came in for a landing. It left a hot streak across the sky in it's wake, all of the air behind it expanding greatly and then condensing and forming watery droplets that made the sky seem to ripple. It was an effect that was both intimidating and fascinating. He wondered distantly if Esthar had designed it that way, or if it was just a by product of the way the machine needed to fly.

Watching it's long, clawed feet extend out to catch the ground and hold it in place, he couldn't help but remember watching it come at Lunatic Pandora through Utimecia's second sight. She was always crawling around somewhere inside of him then, like an inflamed organ you needed to get rid of but felt an odd sort of attachment to. She was his heart and his mind, and after a time, she was his sight and senses as well. She was _everything_.

He shook his head, driving the memories away.

He still dreamed of her at night, unable to ever banish all of the remnants of her from his system. He had been taken over so completely, and she had changed him forever. There was no going back.

"What _is_ that?" someone standing nearby breathed, unaware Seifer was close enough to hear.

"That," he replied, "is SeeD."

The man swung around to look at him, his eyes narrowed. There were only a few reasons that anyone would recognize the often invisible force that was Garden and it's elite forces -- you were either being followed by them or were one of them. In Seifer's case, both of those conditions were in some sense applicable. He didn't feel like explaining his special circumstances to the man, however, and began his advance toward the airport, curious as to who would be landing in remote Trabia and why.

They could make his life exponentially more difficult if they were planning to stick around in Ekalaka. Enough of the people in town already knew that he was a war criminal, he didn't need soldiers hanging around to remind them. On top of that, he didn't want SeeDs tailing him everywhere he went. He wasn't charged with anything, and they had no right to persecute him for anything he'd done. All he was trying to do was live his life.

A latent anger began to boil up inside of him.

_It would just figure if they were here for me._

He walked steadily toward the now still form of Ragnarok. The points of it's wings stuck up above the top of the bank like little horns, even though the airport laid quite a ways beyond. One of the biggest aircraft in the world. He'd heard that statistic somewhere, although he was quite positive that it couldn't be true.

His feet thumped against the pavement as he came around the bank and started down 7th Street.

The airport itself had no buildings to speak of. An urbanized person wouldn't even have called it an airport. It was, in fact, an empty field that had been flattened into a narrow strip long enough for small passenger planes to land in. There was a large wooden fence that separated it from a nearby road that lead into town, and the only tracks in the field had long ago grown over.

Ragnarok's formidable claws had given the Ekalaka airport a brand new scar to cover up, and as he came up to the fence the hatch popped open and a sprightly girl came bouncing out.

The messenger girl. Hyne, what was her name again? Selphie. Still wearing the silly yellow sun dress. She looked like a giant, awkward daffodil in amongst the grass.

"I sure hope this is the airport," she chirped, looking around.

"Maybe they should put up a sign or something," replied a flash of blonde.

Seifer's stomach knotted violently. _Blonde. _He knew that color. Hyne, he dreamed of that color. Quistis, his old instructor, the only one who had fought against him that he never dreamed would be there. Squall was a natural pick, but Quistis had shocked him. She was talk, not action. On top of that, she was an instructor and was never really in the field. He still didn't know why she'd been there, what sort of circumstances had led to her presence in the mission. That day in the detention room, before he'd left for Timber, she hadn't bothered to say a word to him.

Now, she was here...flying back into his life. He couldn't breathe. God, he was going to hyperventilate and die.

He tried to steady himself and closed his eyes.

When he dared open them again, he peeked over the fence for a good look at his old...friend. He wasn't entirely sure he could ever call her that. But he'd come to like to think that maybe she, out of all of them, would be the most likely to take him back. She'd never really hate him. At least, he didn't think so. And she was so damn logical, she more than anybody would see reason. So he liked to believe.

His eyes flashed open once again, prepared to take in her sudden appearance. That blonde hair...perfect skin...lanky frame. Something in his head ticked, pushing him backwards, causing him to stumble into and knock over all of assumptions. He dropped back quickly from the fence.

That's not her.

He gasped.

It wasn't Quistis. It was some other blonde haired SeeD. He had to stop for a moment and catch his breath. Grating back over all over his thoughts about her to his real reason for coming to get a look at the Ragnarok.

_Why are they here?_

He ducked to make sure he wasn't visible over the fence, listening to their shouts over the idling engines.

"Good luck!" Selphie yelled. "Remember to check in from time to time with progress reports. And your contact again is Patrick Lee."

Patrick Lee and progress reports. They weren't on vacation, that was for sure. But what sort of mission could there be in Ekalaka? Or anywhere else in the area for that matter? He ran a hand through his hair.

White Pine.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a blue and red knit hat and pulled it over his head. He was still cold from his long journey and his muscles were shuddering under his clothing. He needed to get inside and he needed to think. He scratched his chin, aware of the shadow of a beard that had grown there and the fact that he couldn't quite feel his finger's ministrations.

Looking back over his shoulder, he started back into Ekalaka, doing his best to look casual. The Ragnarok fired all engines, a roar among the silence. Disruption, it seemed to break all the air around it. Nothing thumped or bumped in Trabia -- it shattered.

He disappeared into the familiar streets, intending to find out why SeeD was invading his territory.


	3. Fears Deep Inside

A/N: Sorry about the delay. I was out of town for quite some time. 

How can I chase away  
All these fears deep inside?

Chapter 3: Fears Deep Inside

Pallas tilted her head into the wind and took a deep breath. Her nose twitched and she closed her eyes, letting her mind go to work analyzing the various scents that she found in the air. Pine, that one was abundant and obvious. It had an almost sweet quality but managed to remain distinctly fresh, just like the forever green leaves that poked from the tree branches. Under the pine there was snow. How to describe that? Cool, clean, and maybe even...she searched her mind...tangy. Yes, that was the word. Definitely tangy.

Her nose pressed against the cold air, urging it to give up secrets before she hunted the ground.

Smoke. Something was burning somewhere, perhaps a fireplace or a campfire. Both of those options were unappealing to her. She was in search of something very specific, and she highly doubted she'd be led to it by smoke signals. Too obvious.

"Anything?"

She looked up and jumped back with a start, the snow crunching underneath her weight.

Thero tilted his massive head to one side, gazing at her with his penetrating yellow eyes. They were surrounded by a halo of thick, black hair. It extended down the length of his body, bulging a little at his rounded tummy before sweeping out to the snowy white tip at the end of his ebony tail.

"Not yet," she replied. "You?"

"Maybe," he lowered his head. "Picked up a trail that could be him. Hard to tell."

Pallas trotted over to her companion, thinking about how so far they had always been just a little too late. They were shadows among darkness when they needed to be stone gargoyles.

"Alright," she glanced around. "Lets follow it."

Thero nodded.

Snow flew up into the quiet forest air, disturbed by their passing as they darted through the trees as mere fragments of thought. Weaving, running, advancing...they were getting closer. Pallas ground her wolf's teeth and kept that thought in mind.

***

Bella Cevario was momentarily enchanted with the rustic town of Ekalaka. The calm streets, mom and pop stores, and friendly (albeit curious and sometimes invasive) faces all reminded her of the place she had grown up in. Balamb was much bigger than her tiny home in Galbadia, and the hurried pace had taken her a long time to get used to. Landing suddenly in the middle of nothing brought up a nostalgic buzz in the pit of her stomach.

She could almost feel the arm of her doll against her palm, and her mind distorted the piney smell into dust and sea breezes. Halfway across the world, and she suddenly felt at home.

"Where was it we're supposed to meet this guy?" Darshan asked.

"What guy?" Bella was caught slightly off guard.

"Lee," he rolled dark eyes at her. "You know, the EPD guy."

"Oh!" she shook her head. "Right! Umm...I don't really know." She shrugged and looked around. "I don't imagine we're too hard to find though."

Every resident that they walked by stopped whatever they were doing to stare. Some paused as they were walking down the street and actually turned around to watch Bella and Darshan continue in the other direction. One brave fellow had even walked up to them and brazenly asked where they were from and why they were in Ekalaka. It wasn't intended as a threat, although his statement in any other context would have seemed as such. Rather, he was insanely curious, like old tribal Galbadians meeting Esthar explorers for the first time.

Bella smiled at that thought, mentally dressing herself up in the textbook outfits she had seen of ancient Estharians.

Up ahead of them, standing in front of a two story building, a man lifted his arm and waved vigorously toward them. He was blonde (although not naturally) with a hazel kind of complexion. His upper body was wrapped in a gigantic, black gortex coat that rose in big marshmallow waves around the stitching. Poking out from sleeves were blue and white patterned mittens. His pants were khaki slacks, cleanly pressed with a crease running strait from thigh to toes. He looked an odd combination of business man and snowman.

Bella waved back.

"Mr. Lee?" she called out.

He nodded. "That's me!"

Bella smiled and extended her hand as she approached him. "Bella Cevario, SeeD. Nice to meet you, Mr. Lee." He pumped her hand energetically with his own mittened hand.

"You don't have to call me that," he insisted. "Patrick is fine. Since we're going to be working together for a while, we might as well do away with the formalities."

Bella nodded and cocked her head at her partner, figuring he probably wouldn't bother to introduce himself. "This is Darshan Zinnovy."

Lee nodded and motioned toward the door. "Lets get inside and I'll brief you and what we're going to be doing."

Bella looked up as they entered the building. The Ekalaka County Court House, it was apparently as good a place as the police officer could find to hold their briefing. Warm air wafted out of the building when he opened the door, enveloping them in the sweet delight of a heater on a cold day. The wooden floorboards creaked in certain places as they walked and the high traffic areas were well worn into deep grooves.

"Right here." He pulled out a chair at a small, round table and sat down.

Bella and Darshan sat across from him.

"We were told that we were coming here to capture a monster," Darshan grunted.

"Yes," Patrick nodded. "A very unusual monster."

He reached into his black leather bag and pulled out a thick manila envelope, spreading it's contents out in front of him.

"This," he said, laying a picture in front of them, "was it's first victim."

Bella couldn't help but let her stomach roll as she looked down at the crime scene photo. The woman laid sprawled on her back across taupe carpet. Her blood had soaked down into the fibers, making the expanse of nearly the entire photo pink and crimson. Her face was slashed but was relatively intact compared to her torso, which had been violently torn open. The shreds of her nightgown still clung to her shoulders and arms in an incongruously happy cartoon print.

"Linda Redle," Lee said. "Pronounced dead at the scene on June 14 at approximately 10:04 AM. She was discovered by a neighbor earlier that morning." He flipped a map in front of them and pointed to a blue dot. "She lived here, in Sulfur Springs."

"That's only a few miles from here," Darshan noted, tracing one finger over the map.

Patrick nodded. "The second victim."

Another gruesome picture, this time of a man, although that wasn't entirely easy to determine. He was in much the same condition as the woman before, only this time the victim was outside, his form making an indent in the snow.

"Red Borman, pronounced dead on the scene July 23 at 2:56 PM," Lee announced, shaking his head. "This one, we have a little more evidence from. Because the attack occurred outside, we managed to recover these footprints and a little bit of hair that was probably pulled out in the struggle. This victim seems to have put on a bit more of a fight than any of the others."

He handed them more photos of the prints.

"We have had both analyzed and they are unrecognizable as a known monster living in the region," he waved a hand through the air. "So, this monster must be new to the area. That should make it easier to find. Also, it left an path as it escaped. Men followed it into the forest but the tracks didn't lead them to a den or any hiding places."

"So, it stays on the move then," Bella surmised. "Where was this attack at?"

He pointed to a place on the map, just south of the first attack.

"There was a pause in the attacks come autumn, but we're not sure why," Lee continued. "We were hoping that they were over when winter started and we still hadn't gotten another report. But there was a third attack in White Pine just the other night. Exact same pattern, this time a woman named Patricia Marin who was found laying face down on her bathroom floor."

Another picture came sliding across the table toward them. The woman was in a white terrycloth bathrobe, her face poking out from a mat of blonde hair. The toilet peaked into the photograph from the right and on the left the white bathtub.

"Right here," Lee jabbed a finger at the photograph, "the bathtub was dented. The first men on the scene thought that it was where her head hit as she was attacked, but we're running a new theory right now." He took a breath and swallowed. "The material the bathtub is made out of is too hard for her head to have been able to dent it. And her head wasn't that badly cracked open. Plus, this attack happened in a more cramped space than any of the others. Right now, our theory is that the dent was made by the monster _during _the attack...by arms or body, we're not sure."

Bella failed to see how that fact was important but didn't say anything about it. Darshan, on the other hand, rolled his eyes elaborately.

"Right," he sighed. "Is that all?"

Lee's calm expression didn't falter. His dark eyes instead roamed around the inside of the Court House, taking long moments to caress the long wooden studs that lined the ceiling and peering out the smoky windows to the street beyond. Bella followed his gaze, almost unaware of time passing. As the two of them looked out to the rest of the world, leaving Darshan hanging in suspense, a large man passed by the glass. He was wearing a long, gray coat and had a knit hat pulled tight over his head. But his profile had an odd hint of resemblance to it.

"Mr. Zinnovy," Patrick finally brought himself back to the table. "I would just like to remind you that you are under contract with the EPD and you'll work with me or be sent back to your Garden."

Darshan tilted his head. "I do what I have to."

Lee pushed one more paper across the table. "I hope you won't mind if I don't take your word for that," he said. "This is your contract...sign it." He looked to Bella. "You, too."

***

Seifer burrowed deeply into bed that night, the wind howling by his window. The white sheets his landlord had graciously lended to him for the night were wrapped tightly over his legs, holding him down onto the bed. Hidden under layers of quilts and comforters, he felt almost physically restrained -- which was exactly how he wanted to feel.

After departing from the airport that morning he made a beeline for the cracker box blue house where (once upon a time) he had lived for a modest rent. His landlord lived next door in a bigger, gray house. He owned both plots, originally having bought them so that he could bring friends up to what he termed as his summer home. That idea proved to be less than brilliant and he eventually began renting out the second house. This solution wasn't much better, seeing as Trabian houses for rent weren't exactly in high demand. So, he lowered the rent he was willing to accept until finally Seifer came along.

The little boxy house was sparsely furnished with a couch and recliner in the living room, an old table in the dining room, and a bed and dresser in the bedroom. There were a few other odds and ends Seifer had managed to collect along the way, but they made little impact upon the Spartan essence of the house.

Even the bed, piled with everything he could find, including his coat, felt cold. He was almost positive that nobody had set foot in the house since he'd left.

He rolled over, pushing his cheek against the pillow.

The moment he closed his eyes, the ghosts came screaming out of the shadows. They had come to him every night since Ultimecia, floating about in the personal space inside of his head. The phantoms came at him in all manners of locomotion. Some penetrated and dove, while others crept their way to prominence. None were quite so bothersome, however, as that of the black winged demigoddess. Her glowing amber eyes and seductive words floated about his head to remind him forever that he'd given away his soul. 

Seifer Almasy was no longer his own man.

He was at the mercy of whims, the half beaten and molested dog of hell.

He rolled over uncomfortably in bed, covering his face with his hands.

You're just a child...

Her voice rang out in the darkness, echoing from an impossible loop in time. She was familiar and exotic, and as much as he wanted her words to cease, he couldn't help but dredge more of them up from his memory.

I'll make you a man...my knight. Would you like that?

His stomach clenched.

I'll give you dreams...spectacular dreams like you've never imagined.

He remembered them only in essence. The details of the dreams she had gifted him with were lost somewhere in the depths of his mind, but the feelings that had produced within him remained. They were like an addiction one never truly got over. His body still yearned for them.

Kill them!! You weak, miserable fool!

He spiraled.

I'll make you mine...forever.

Seifer's eyes shot open and he shook his head violently. The vivid image of Ultimecia receded a bit, enough to allow him a stabilizing breath. Some nights were worse than others, and he always dreaded the moment he would have to climb alone into bed. There was nothing to occupy him in the darkness except his own tortured thoughts.

Abruptly, his mind snapped to another subject. The SeeDs that had arrived that morning, they were certainly something to keep him occupied. A concern to say the least.

Settling down, he looked up at the ceiling.

He'd thought the one was Quistis Trepe. The blonde girl looked so much like her, they could easily have been related. Not exactly impossible, he reminded himself. They had, after all, grown up in an orphanage. Everyone in their generation was the victim of violence. He figured it wasn't really much of a surprise that a person like him had grown from it. The conditions were perfect for breeding people like him. Only, he was different from them now.

Those SeeDs would have to go, he decided. Even the Quistis look-alike. Even though that flash of blonde has excited him in ways he hadn't ever expected (was he really _that_ lonely?) he couldn't risk keeping her around. He'd been struggling for quite some time for a normal life. Although he knew it was impossible for his life to be normal, he felt that he deserved the chance to at least get as close as he could to really feeling happy.

Black wings flared out with a snap.

I'll give you dreams...


	4. Signs to Come

I'll wait the signs to come  
I'll find a way  
I'll will wait the time to come  
I'll find a way home

Chapter 4: Signs to Come

Seifer woke up with a deep muscle pain at the back of his neck. His head was craned around at an odd angle and his mouth was hanging open, drool dripping onto his pillow. He never ceased to be shocked every morning at what a completely unattractive sleeper he was. Even in his present pitiable state of being, his method of rest was somehow unsettling. Once upon a time, he'd backed his Garden roommate into a corner and threatened him with bodily harm to keep his drooling and tossing a tightly guarded secret. He was positive that it had never gotten out, but it bothered him all the same.

He spent the first hour of his morning, as usual, in a sleep induced daze. He managed to tie his boots only out of rote memory, pausing between feet to rub his eyes with his fists.

The day greeted him with a frosty chill. He puffed out a long breath and watched it casually float away, his heels rocking against the frozen cement of his front porch. His plan for the day had not yet been formed, as his presence of mind during the night wasn't always the best. But, as he looked up and down the street for somewhere to start on all the things he had to accomplish, lady luck paid him an uncharacteristic visit.

Coming down the street, wrapped in a black and gold Balamb Garden winter coat, was the blonde pseudo-Quistis SeeD who had arrived the other morning. Ducking back against his house, he watched her approach and weighed his options. He could try and talk to her and pray to God that she somehow wouldn't recognize him. He looked different than he had back at Garden, even different than he had during the deepest and darkest parts of the war. His scar had faded from the irritated blazing red it had once been to an almost benign looking white line. Stubble covered his jaw and the fire crosses on his coat had long since fallen off. In fact, his trench coat was in complete tatters and he kept it only for sentimental reasons (he hardly ever wore it any longer).

Still, the chance that she might recognize him was a risk he wasn't quite willing to take. Surprise was the only thing that he had on his side. They didn't know what was really going on, and that gave him a region of safety to move around in. They weren't looking for him, and he planned to roam about in the shadows for as long as possible. Inevitably they would find out about him -- they always did.

That was the story of his life.

Everywhere that Seifer went he slowly managed to build a life for himself. He would find a job, a house, and sometimes he even found companionship. He'd even had a girlfriend once. There were times when he thought that maybe he'd finally found a place to call home. But his past always reared it's ugly head, and at those times it was always easier to run away. Sometimes he ran so he wouldn't have to hurt someone, and sometimes he ran because he already had. Only now, he was beginning to run out of places to hide.

Ekalaka was still safe. Nothing untoward, as far as he could remember, had happened there because of him.

At least, not yet.

The blonde SeeD meandered past his house looking as if she had no real destination in mind. Her neck craned as she peered around and behind her, although her eyes brushed off of Seifer as if he were insignificant. Another staring person in a town of nosey country people. That little aspect was certainly to his advantage.

Now all he had to do was make sure that they didn't find out the truth. No matter what happened, he had to keep them from figuring out what was _really _going on in Trabia.

Seifer waited for the woman's figure to disappear around a corner before setting off toward the street. His boots felt heavy and cold, but a relatively new coat was wrapped warmly around his shoulders. The fur lining held heat close to his body, and the sleeves extended halfway down his hand so that his wrists were never let out into the frosty chill. He'd had reservations about finally leaving behind his old trench coat, but the drafty material had finally out done him when winter came.

Feels like I've been here forever, he thought.

Walking at a brisk pace up the street, he didn't notice the shadows following close behind him. They were silent and weaved through the town's tapestry like just another insignificant thread. He was familiar with them, but only in another sense. He had no idea they were with him as he stepped confidently into the general store, swinging open the door so that a bell chimed above his head.

"Morning," a little man popped up behind the counter.

"Good morning, Petey," Seifer replied, waving. "Was wondering if you still had that job open for me."

Petey owned and ran the general store, although it was a mystery how he had obtained any of it. He was by far one of the laziest men Seifer had ever met. Often he made up crack pot excuses not to come in to work, making one of his employees pick up the slack. He was also diabetic, though he vehemently denied it and continued to drink heavily. His demeanor was counteracted by his oddly gaunt appearance. Although he had the characteristic beer belly of a middle aged man who did nothing but sit all day, all of his limbs and most of the rest of his torso was terribly thin. He wasn't an easy man to work for, and he almost always had positions open.

Petey looked at him and shrugged. "I don't have the one you want open anymore." He eyed him through golden wire rimmed glasses. "But I do have _something _open."

"You got a new stock boy?" Seifer was surprised.

"Stock girl, actually," he replied, grinning in a way that made Seifer a little uneasy. "But, it's winter and it gets cold enough in here to freeze off my damn balls anymore. I need someone to cut wood for me every morning."

"You haven't stocked up on firewood yet?"

"Do I look like a fucking lumber jack?" Petey snorted.

"No, actually," Seifer replied. "But I'll need to know how much you're going to pay me for saving your balls every day. They're precious things, you know. God only gave you two, Petey. And you probably need them both."

Petey grinned. "Well, suppose we could hammer that out later today once I see what you can do. Got an axe in the back, you know where it is, go get me some firewood and I can see what I can spare for ya."

"You're quite the humanitarian, Petey," Seifer said as he took off toward the back of the store. "Tell your stock girl that I'll be back in a few hours to warm her up a bit."

Petey cackled unpleasantly and the sound followed Seifer into the back room where the axe was laying against a pile of sacked flour. Going out into the cold everyday wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind, but it was a job and he needed the money. At least, he thought, he wouldn't have to be stuck in the store with Petey. He felt sorry for the poor stock girl that he had hired on. She was probably on the verge of quitting, and then Seifer could move in and take her job once he had enough firewood chopped.

He grabbed the axe and felt it slip under his mittens. He groaned, realizing he'd have to work barehanded.

The wind picked up perceptibly as he stepped out the backdoor of the general store and set his sites upon the forbidding shadow of the forest beyond. He associated nothing good with the forest and shuddered at the thought that he'd have to spend his next few days in it. Nothing good ever happened in amongst the trees. They stripped life down to the bare essentials and reverted men to animals. No one was beyond the most basic laws of nature in the forest. Seifer was tangled in both world, and the contradictions in his position between domestic and feral made transitions between their local manifestations all the more uncomfortable.

Distractedly, he swung the axe back and forth at his side and listened to the crunch of the snow under his boots.

Behind him, a sleek figure crept out from behind the general store's brown metal dumpster. Crusted over with the snow that had fallen the night before it was nearly invisible against the unplowed alleyway. Behind it, another crouched looking like nothing more than a shadow. They dogged his steps, staying far enough behind to remain unseen. Timing was critical.

Seifer glanced up at the first line of trees in the forest's vast phalanx. One of them, a wide brute of a pine that Seifer probably couldn't have put his arms all the way around, stood out in front of the rest like the ancient general it probably was. Seifer was after easier prey and like so many that had gone before him left the great old tree to the twists of time.

He found a dry, small tree that would suit his purposes and braced himself. He brought down his axe hard against the trunk.

Thud.

And again, he dug into the tree's side, ripping out its sappy innards.

Thud. Thud.

He hated chopping wood. And he hated Trabia. He hated that he had to be in Trabia and not somewhere more pleasant like Balamb. He was never really a fan of the cold. He liked beaches and sunshine and even those damn seagulls. They were pests, but they were company.

Thud. Thud.

The hits reverberated satisfyingly up his arm. It was almost like gunblade practice back at Garden. He hadn't really used Hyperion since leaving Esthar. Rarely had he come across something in Trabia that warranted the force of a gunblade. The animals avoided him. Perhaps they somehow knew what he was. Maybe they could sense it in him as some sort of sick perversion. He wasn't one of _them _-- not for either side.

The tree cracked and groaned, balancing on a tendril of wood that splintered when Seifer gave it a good shove.

He sighed and looked at the fallen tree with unmasked dislike. He'd have to dismember the damn thing to haul it back to the store, and it was going to take him a good chunk of time to accomplish.

Seifer walked toward it but froze as a flash of movement caught his eye. His body went ridged and his muscles tightened. He'd only caught it out of his peripheral vision and wasn't entirely sure he'd seen anything at all. But a tingling feeling ran up the back of his spine and with an animalistic sort of certainty he became suddenly positive of the fact that he wasn't alone.

He peered between the skinny pines, pushing down the urgency that was making his heart pound.

Nothing. There weren't even tracks in the snow minus his own. The trees were much to skinny to hide behind and the woods were completely silent around him.

Loosing his grip on the axe, he began to relax.

You're seeing things.

He shook his head and rubbed his eyes with cold fingers. His mittens were shoved into his coat pockets and his nails were already becoming an unhealthy shade of purple.

He opened his eyes again after a few long breaths and nearly jumped out of his skin, his heart leaping up hard into his throat.

"Holy shit!" he blurted out, jumping backward.

The wolf stood in front of him, only about ten feet away. It was huge, probably standing nearly waist high, and had a thick coat of pitch black fur. This only heightened the appearance of the wolf's amber yellow eyes. It stared at him steadily, standing knee deep in the snow. The unnatural way in which it stood observing him held Seifer in place once he regained his composure, and for a moment he felt a pang of familiarity.

Something cold pressed up against Seifer's hand. He jerked away from it only to see a second wolf standing beside him. This one was gray and white, but had the same unsettling yellow eyes. It was smaller than the black one, but only slightly. It's charcoal nose hovered near his hand for a moment and then pressed up against the cool flesh of his palm again...more persistently this time.

Seifer looked back and forth between the two wolves, frozen in place by an odd mixture of instinctual fear and the odd feeling that the two canines were nothing new in his life. He'd seen them before, and they'd always been nearby.

The wolf at his right paced and looked to the other one, seeming uneasy.

Seifer gripped the axe hard, ready to defend himself. The two wolves were at least waist high on him, and although they hadn't yet attacked he couldn't fathom any other reason for them to be standing in front of him. 

Maybe they're curious...

He looked into the black wolf's haunting yellow eyes and felt something physically overcome him. His mind raced with a new sense of paranoia.

Maybe they know what I am.

With that though, he could feel it rising over him like an oncoming bought of nausea. A shuddering, hot feeling raced across his flesh, making his coat feel suddenly uncomfortable around him. He panted wildly, fighting what was happening to him. His lack of control was frightening, and the sense that his own consciousness had been tossed out into the wind was oddly pervasive. The world spun, becoming bleary before his eyes. He tried to focus on the wolves, hardly aware any longer what exactly he was looking at. Mixed flashes of black, yellow, and white advanced toward and around him, and for a moment Seifer felt an extreme mixture of terror and confusion.

Oh God...please.

He let out a pained bellow and dropped his axe. The two wolves lunged toward him and around them he heard her voice rippling inexplicably through all of time to him.

You're mine.

***

  
Pallas was panting, her sides heaving hard by the time she caught up to the figure now laying crumpled in the snow. Thero was in front of her, his black body heavily crusted over with snow so that he was hardly visible against the bleary backdrop of snow and rock. She dropped her gait to a trot, relieved to finally have a respite in the chase. Her legs were heavy with caked on snow and ice had collected around her nose and eyes.

"Is it over?" she asked when she came up beside the still form of Thero.

"I think so," he replied. He turned to her and, more out of courtesy than anything else, carefully licked away the ice from the fur around her eyes. She returned the favor and let out a long, deep breath that hung in the air long after she expelled it.

Together, they carefully approached the huddled mass they had been advancing upon. Pallas' feet crunched quietly in the snow and her nose twitched. It was a time to be cautious. She sniffed earnestly with each step she took. Thero approached from the opposite side, searching the ground and air with his own nose as well.

"He certainly smells like a man," Thero noted, pressing his nose against the figure's arm.

Pallas nudged him as well, but the man didn't move. His breathing was shallow, melting a small hallow in the snow around his face. She plopped down onto her haunches, her muscles still twitching from the long run. Thero mimicked her, and they sat in silence for a time.

"This isn't good," she finally muttered.

Thero looked up at her. "We're running out of time."

Pallas nodded and looked down at the man between them. His blonde hair was matted to his head around his temples, and his body was still burning with a perceptible heat. They had barely evaded becoming his prey, then followed him into the depths of the forest until he finally collapsed from exhaustion. Carefully, she licked at his face, hoping to bring him about enough to reassure her that he was really still alive.

"Do you suppose she knew?" Thero asked.

"I don't know..." Pallas shrugged. It was something to consider. Nobody alive knew about Delos. That was the way it was meant to be. But if this witch had somehow discovered them, then their entire existence was in danger. 

Snow began to fall on them out of nowhere, floating down out of nearby trees on the wind. Time was running out, and Pallas didn't have the slightest idea how to handle the situation. Her flank stung and throbbed where his claws had sliced through a small part of her hide. It was a constant, burning reminder of how close he'd come to snatching her up. His reaction had been completely unexpected, and neither she or Thero fully understood quite what had gone wrong yet.

There was only one thing that they knew for sure.

This was only a sign of what was to come. The beast was taking over.


	5. The Morning Star

My light shall be the moon  
And my path the ocean  
My guide the morning star  
As I sail home to you

Chapter 5: The Morning Star

Seifer rolled over in bed and rubbed his cheek against his pillow. The inside of his mouth was dry and his tongue felt like it had swelled up to the size of a grapefruit. He smacked uncomfortably, trying to reactivate his salivary glands. With irritation, he pulled the covers more tightly around himself and tried to drift off back to sleep. He'd been having a dream that he couldn't quite remember but wanted to get back to. Something about....

He searched his hazy mind.

Wolves?

That didn't seem right. It had to have been about something else. Why would he dream about wolves?

Seifer rolled over again and opened his eyes to exactly what he expected to see. His bedroom was illuminated only by a low glow being emitted by the drapes covering his window. Morning was just beginning to dawn outside. Or...maybe it was evening. Confusion rolled over him. He remembered going to bed, but only via the vague memory of pulling the sheets over himself. Then there was the wolf dream.

He jerked up suddenly in bed, realization dawning on him. The action sent his senses back into turmoil and his vision blurred all over again. But he didn't need to see to relive the convoluted horror of what had happened.

He'd turned into it again.

And the wolves? He searched his mind. He wasn't sure how they fit into the whole puzzle, but he knew that they were somehow an important piece. He always remembered flashes of them after an episode -- the black and white flashes through the snow, like fish lurching through water. They were important, and he recalled them more vividly this time. Their yellow gaze stared back at him from a memory that he didn't want to admit was his own.

What time is it?

The last thing he really remembered clearly was going off into the woods to chop wood for Petey, and that had been in the morning. Was it that evening? Or was it the next morning? Or was it the same morning? And how the hell had he ended up in bed?

Seifer rubbed his eyes, miserable.

There was nothing left for him to do but try and get on with his life. He couldn't change what he was, as much as he hated it. He'd gone over the argument enough times in his head that it wasn't necessary anymore to even bother with it. It always ended the same way.

He looked around for his clothes for a moment only to realize that he was still dressed. His coat was laying haphazardly on the floor, the mittens dangling out of the pockets. His clothing always turned up, even when he distinctly could remember ripping it off in some other place. It was a discrepancy he didn't have the will to examine further.

The sun was blazing in the east when he stepped outside, rising up into a still purple sky to blot out the stars and the moon. The moon still hung stubbornly in the sky, glazed over by a milky morning haze.

Under the folds of his coat, Seifer's stomach rumbled impatiently. The sound was accompanied by a sudden pinching that demanded all of his attention.

Sprinting down the street, he ducked into the Black Bear Cafe. Outside the restaurant was a menagerie of stuffed animals, one of which was wearing a large chef's hat held on with a green and blue bungee cord. The stuffed mesmerize was positioned with one hoof pawing at the ground, under which someone had placed a menu for the only rival restaurant in town -- Eileen's.

Seifer only had a little bit of money on him, but he slapped down enough gil on the bar for a serving of pancakes and waited with a watering mouth for his breakfast to get done.

Almost nobody was in the cafe. At one corner someone sat with a cup of coffee and a newspaper out of Esthar held up in front of them. All Seifer could see of the man was his feet poking out from under his table. A few other patrons milled about, and the sound of forks scraping plates slowly drove Seifer wild.

His pancakes couldn't have come fast enough, and when they finally were set steaming before him he dug in with the appetite of a snow lion after hibernation. He greedily spilled generous helpings of butter and thick maple syrup over them. The feeling of half starvation was unsettling with it's familiarity. He always felt as if he hadn't eaten in days after...changing.

"Seifer!" A loud, gravely voice accompanied the bell over the door. "What the _hell_ happened to you yesterday?"

Petey plopped down beside Seifer at the bar and ordered himself bacon, eggs, and a beer. His belly stuck out, pressing against the bar when he scooted in to settle his arms against it. Turning, he gave Seifer a long look.

"You didn't even bring my god damn axe back," he grumbled. "I know it's not the best job, but Hyne."

"Sorry, Petey," Seifer frowned, not sure how to explain himself.

"Shit," Petey replied, using the word to fill space. "Did you see it?"

"See what?" Seifer asked, shoving a forkful of pancake in his mouth. He wasn't quite listening to what the man had to say. He'd been gone for an entire day, and he'd probably lost his job. Then again, that didn't really matter. He couldn't stay in Ekalaka much longer anyway. A few spare gil would have been made a nice lining for his pocket, but he couldn't risk SeeD finding him. And if that meant he'd have to live off what he could find for a while, he would. It was better to be destitute than be captured by SeeD and become somebody's science experiment.

"Well shit," Petey slapped his hand on the bar. "John Heanny thinks he saw that god damned monster yesterday morning. You were out there, too. You didn't see a shittin' thing?"

"What monster?" Seifer asked, his back stiffening.

"You know, that one Garden's after," Petey replied distractedly. His breakfast was set down before him on a plate filled with grease. Seifer could practically see the other man salivating over the smell of the bacon. He picked up one piece of it and held it up so that the bacon poked out stiffly. "See, that's how you tell it's done. If it sticks out strait like that."

"How do you know Garden's after a monster?" Seifer pressed.

"Hell, everybody knows," he shrugged. "Know Marla? Well, she asked that SeeD girl if they were here for that White Pine murder. Ya know, seeing if they were gonna catch the bastard and all. Anyway, girl said they were after a monster. Then, yesterday, John's out there in the woods and he sees this...this _thing_ running down through the valley, you know...the one between us and the Absarokas. Those SeeD's and the EPD guy have been all over town getting supplies together. Bought out all my ammo."

Seifer's stomach sank down to his knees. Someone had spotted him, and SeeD was after the monster. Would they track his prints all the way back to his house? SeeDs were no pushovers. They knew what they were doing, and it didn't look like it had snowed overnight.

This was bad.

"These aren't over easy!" Petey waved his hand, pointing with the other at his eggs. "And where's the salt?"

"Listen, Petey," Seifer turned to him. "I don't think I can work for you anymore. Yesterday I had a run in with an old friend of mine. He runs this place down in Balamb and he offered me a pretty good position there. Been looking for an excuse to get out of this godforsaken place anyway. So, I'm going to have to split on you."

"Balamb, huh?" Petey smiled a little. "Little sun and some bronzed women?"

"That's the idea," Seifer shrugged, a vision of Quistis flashing before his eyes.

"Lucky bastard." Petey reached out and shook Seifer's hand vigorously. The action jarred Seifer's body and he nearly fell off his stool. He regained his balance just in time and forced a smile across his face.

"I'd say see you later," he said. "But, I probably won't."

Petey just waved, too absorbed in his breakfast to turn it into a long goodbye. He wasn't the sort of man who ever showed any emotion that wasn't laced with sarcasm. In his defense, however, he had fought in one of the more vicious parts of the first Sorceress War. From what Seifer had heard about the area in which Petey had been fighting there had been a lot of guerrilla warfare with unconventional tactics. Occasionally, they had to kill children who'd been laced with bombs and sent toward them by Sorceress supporters. It was an ugly thing, and Seifer was oddly relieved that the war he'd played a major roll in hadn't spilled into the general population the way that the first one had.

Petey remained behind in the Black Bear Cafe, an enigmatic ball of inner thoughts. Seifer forgot him the moment he stepped out onto the street and began to form a plan of escape. His greatest blessing laid in the fact that they were looking for a monster and, for the moment at least, he was a man. He needed to slip out of Ekalaka as soon as he made sure his tracks were covered -- in any way necessary.

This time, for once, Seifer had an idea of where he wanted to go. It was crazy, but it was what he wanted more than anything. He was going to go to Balamb. He'd row there by night if he had to. Regardless, he knew that he had to get out of Trabia. Too many people had died and it wasn't going to be long now before someone caught on to him. He was amazed that nobody had connected him to the murders yet. But, it was coming.

He wanted to see her. For some unfathomable reason, he needed to see her again. Quistis was right over the water waiting for him to show up on her doorstep. She would forgive him. Nobody else would. But Quistis would, she had to.

He'd already bled enough for his sins.

***

Darshan Zinnovy swore under his breath. 

He stood in front of a house at the end of town with his pack swung over his shoulders. Bella Cevario was beside him, fiddling with the tranquilizer gun in her right hand. One of the red darts was in the other where she'd taken it out of the barrel to investigate how the trigger mechanism worked. In front of them, Lee was involved in a rather loud argument with one of the townspeople.

"Look," he waved a hand through the air, "we're here as part of a mission from Garden to get rid of this monster. It's been killing people in Trabia. Don't you care about that?"

"No," the man replied with hostility. His house looked normal enough from the outside, but the moment he'd seen them approaching he'd raced out his door with a large shotgun in his hands and told them that he'd shoot them all if they crossed his property. He had a wild look in his eyes whenever he looked at Bella and Darshan. Obviously afflicted by some form of skin disorder, his face was marked with highlighted areas that had less pigmentation than the rest. They made the rest of his face look liver spotted.

"Please, we're not going to go anywhere on your property," Lee pleaded. "We just need to get out into the forest to look for this thing before it gets away."

"The forest is my property," the man told them firmly.

"No it isn't," Lee shook his head. "Nobody can own this forest."  
  
"Yeah, that's what the _government _says," he waved his shotgun around and looked past Lee to Bella and Darshan. "That what you guys are for? Going to try to take this all away from me?"

"Sir..." Lee was visibly running out of patience. "SeeD isn't affiliated with any government."

"You're telling me there ain't no government money in that hog of a building?" the man demanded. "Those people ain't coming anywhere _near _my house." To make his point, he fired off a shot that nearly made Bella drop her tranquilizer dart. The pellets blasted through the right side of a cardboard snowman that he had tied onto his fence with barbed wire. The sign that the snowman was holding had been faded away, but it was clearly a racist remark.

"Now," the man breathed. "Get the _hell _off my property." He watched them for a second then motioned toward his house. "Got a pretty nice collection of Estharian automatic rifles in there. Don't make me get them out."

Darshan rolled his eyes. They had tranquilizer guns on them. They could have dispatched with the troublesome man minutes ago and gone on their way. But Lee had insisted on talking some sense into the clearly insane man. It's like beating your head into a wall and hoping maybe the wall will give way first, he thought.

"Let's just go next door," Bella said. "The whole town is surrounded by the forest, we don't need to go out this way."

"That thing was spotted almost directly behind this house," Darshan reminded her.

"So? We'll come around. We're already loosing time here anyway," she shrugged. "There are plenty of people here willing to let us cut through their yard."

Their problem was the place the monster was sighted wasn't anywhere near the one street leading into and out of Ekalaka. They had to go through someone's yard to get where they wanted to be. This man's was the closest to the spot where John Heanny had spotted it. But, Bella and Darshan's SeeD coats had obviously alerted the man's paranoia.

Patrick Lee walked back up to them, the butt of the man's shotgun pointed directly at his back, and shrugged helplessly.

"We're guests here," he explained. "If he says we can't go through his lawn, then we can't."

"This is crap," Darshan growled.

"Yeah, it is," Lee replied. "We'll just go next door. Won't take us much longer."

Grudgingly, Darshan followed Bella and Lee over to the next house. He hated loosing a fight. And, more than that, he hated never taking one up when it was offered. That man had been looking for confrontation, and Darshan would certainly have offered it. People like him needed to be put in their place. Maybe if they had some sort of real fear in their lives, they wouldn't have to invent things to feed their delusions. Nobody ever did things the easy and sensible way anymore.

Lee stepped through the gate in the fence and strode up to the house to rap against the front door.

They were wasting time.

Damn it.

Darshan paced. He couldn't just stand still and wait for Lee to get the damn okay for them to do their job. The way he saw it, they were flown in as a favor to get rid of the monster for these people. If he had his choice, it could kill all of them and the world would be better off. At the very least, nobody would miss any of them. They should have been going out of their way to make sure that Darshan was a happy man.

"Good morning," Lee smiled brightly to the woman who opened the door. "I'm afraid we need to ask you a favor."

Darshan rolled his eyes and paced more, continually looking back toward the house they'd come from. The man was still standing in his yard beside his half blown apart snowman. The shotgun was still gripped tightly in his hands so that his knuckles were visably white against his bronzed hands.

"Great," Patrick Lee shook the woman's hand vigorously. "We really appreciate this."

"Oh...it's no problem, really," she blushed.

That's more like it, Darshan thought.

He looked up to the sky. The sun was already full on the horizon. According to the man's report, John Heanny had spotted the monster sometime the day before. He wasn't sure exactly when, as he wasn't wearing a watch. However, he hadn't reported the incident until that evening. Apparently, he'd gone about his work and was only convinced to come to Lee when he told his wife of the incident. Darshan never ceased to be amazed how stupid people could be. All the while knowing that people were dying mysteriously in Trabia, the man had stayed out in the woods after seeing what he reported to be an absolutely terrifying creature.

Naturally, he'd also told about half the town before finally getting to Lee. Their mission was no secret anymore.

"Come on," Patrick waved to them. "She's going to let us through her fence." Everyone in the town had a big fence around their house, presumably to keep out various types of animals that would roam about after dark. Darshan thought high fences looked distinctly unfriendly.

He took one last look back at the man who'd brandished the shotgun at them. He was occupied, talking to a man who'd sometime since come up to him. The two were talking quietly, and Darshan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. The new man was much taller, and blonde hair poked out from under the hood he had pulled over the back of his head.

For a moment, Darshan felt a flash of recognition but it faded ominously when the blonde man shook the other's hand and advanced toward the back of his house.

Sabotage?

The thought made Darshan's blood sizzle. He watched the man sprint into the freak's backyard and mentally marked him. If he was going to be in the woods at the same time, Darshan would find him. And when he did, he was going to find out what was up.

Lee and Bella remained completely unaware of the blonde man and talked amiably to one another. But Darshan lagged behind, his blood tingling.


	6. Time to Come

A/N: It seems a lot of you are waiting for Quistis to re-enter this fic. I am sorry to disappoint, but she will not appear until Part 2 (Chapter 9). This fic is primarily about Seifer, and you must remember that the first half _is_ titled Exile. She will eventually play a very major role...just not for a few chapters yet.  


I'll wait the signs to come  
I'll find a way  
I will wait the time to come  
I'll find a way home

Chapter 6: Time to Come

Seifer had watched the two SeeDs from a distance as they confronted Randy Holt, Ekalaka's obligatory nutcase. In reality, the man probably had nothing on Seifer when it came to state of mind, but it was nice to have the attention and whispers drawn elsewhere for once. He knew that Holt probably wouldn't let the SeeDs cross into his lawn, or even go within feet of his fence, because of their relationship to that large and elusive thing called the _government_. Holt was one of those small fish who was convinced that his place in the world was infinitely more substantial than it really was. Seifer highly doubted there was a government on the face of the planet that knew Holt as anything more than a census statistic.

In any case, he was proving himself to be quite handy for the moment.

Quietly and with the patience of a wild cat stalking its prey, he observed the two SeeDs from his position down the street. The blonde one, the one that reminded him so much of Quistis, stood with a long rifle in her hands and was fiddling impatiently with it. Her partner, a dark man who clearly wanted the world to know that he was deep and brooding, looked as if he would have rather just put a bullet through Holt's head rather than listen to his rant.

Have to be careful of him, Seifer noted. _He doesn't ask questions._

The blonde man that had been talking to Holt threw up his hands and retreated. The three conferred for a short time, then started next door just as Seifer had anticipated. _Perfect...perfect._

He just needed to make sure that they wouldn't be able to link him to the attacks, and then he could leave. He still wasn't quite sure how he was going to accomplish that, he only knew that he couldn't let SeeD track him. When it came down to it, he'd do what he had to. His life was at stake.

Slipping down the street, Seifer kept a wary eye on the trio as they asked the neighbor woman for passage through her yard. Randy Holt perked up and let loose his grip on his shotgun when he saw Seifer approaching.

"Morning," he smiled broadly. "See them bastards there? Wanted to get through my yard. Government assholes."

"They're SeeD, aren't they?" Seifer feigned ignorance and shook Randy's outstretched hand.

"Say they're here after some monster," he shrugged.

"Monster?" Seifer snorted. "Monsters have never been a problem here before. We can take care of ourselves without their help. Anything new is going on here, it's something that happened because of _them_."

Holt stiffened, his mind working over all of the possibilities. His speckled face contorted, but he didn't voice any of his newly spawned fears. Instead he looked Seifer in the eye and asked, "So, what're you doing here?"

"Was wondering if I cut through your lawn," Seifer admitted. "Don't say anything about it, but I'm tailing the SeeDs. Don't really trust them."

Holt nodded emphatically and waved a hand toward his house. "Sure, go right ahead. Don't let them get the jump on you though."

"I won't," Seifer grinned. Ideally, it would be the other way around. Still, it couldn't hurt to be careful. "Thanks a lot." He jogged past Randy Holt and through his snow encrusted front yard. The stuff crunched under his feet, frozen on top into a solid sheet that cracked around his footprints. Having to pick his feet up high slowed him down, and his heart beat started to speed up.

As he jogged, and then sprinted, he left Randy Holt and his house far behind. The woods enveloped him, returning his senses to that of the animal that lived inside of him. In his desperation, he wasn't quite sure where to begin. The trees jutted up from the ground all around him, and a blanket of flawless snow was snuggled in between them. The only footprints he could find were his own, and a few spots where ice falling from tree branches had broken the snow blanket.

Grumbling to himself, he paused for a moment to think and swept his hood off with his right hand.

He knew that the SeeDs would probably start in the place he'd been spotted. So, it made sense that he'd been seen somewhere behind Holt's house. He couldn't remember much of the night in question, so it was really anybody's guess where he'd been and what he'd done. Although, Petey had told him that he'd been sighted in the valley between Ekalaka and the Absarokas. That left a fairly narrow swath of land, one he was much more familiar with than the SeeDs who were probably running on the same information.

Reaching into his coat, Seifer withdrew Hyperion. He hadn't needed to use it in a long time, and it felt heavy in his hands. The long blade shimmered in the morning light, the groove down the side meticulously cleaned. Hyperion wasn't his only weapon anymore, but he still took good care of it.

Trees flashed by on either side of him as he advanced down into the valley. Rising up above the trees he could see the Absaroka mountain range. They were the very ones that he had crossed coming into the town just a short while ago. His life seemed to be circular, always leading him back to the same places.

His boots pounded against the ground, filling his ears with the sound of his own advance. It was a heady heartbeat, and when he stopped to regain his orientation, the world was cast into silence.

This silence was broken quite suddenly by the low rumble of someone clearing their throat.

Startled, Seifer spun around and spotted his enemy standing in his own footsteps, an ugly black growth upon the pearly woodland floor.

"I know who you are," the SeeD announced. "Do you know who I am?"

Seifer gripped Hyperion more tightly and eyed the SeeD carefully, taking him in and wondering why he was waiting to attack. The man was dressed in his SeeD uniform, a conglomeration of black and gold. Hanging from his shoulders was a fluffy Garden coat modeled, Seifer supposed, after Squall's. It was longer, but it had that same furry collar that had become the rage after Squall's successful defeat of Ultimecia. Around the man's waist was a thick leather belt that had a variety of little baggies and assorted weaponry attached to it. Two black straps that pulled down against the coat were the only hint to what hung on his back, probably a sword.

"Should I?" Seifer finally asked derisively.

"Darshan Zinnovy," the man replied slowly. "And you...well..._you_ are Seifer Almasy."

"Smart boy," Seifer sneered. "Want a cookie?"

Darshan stood stoically, his feet spread apart. His dark eyes were piercing, and from under his mop of dark hair he seemed to be searching through Seifer to dig up every horrible thing he'd ever done. Still, there was a small hint of curiosity. Seifer got the impression he'd surprised Darshan.

"Where are you going?" he finally asked.

Seifer grunted and slid hyperion through the snow. "Don't screw with me," he rolled his eyes. "You know where I'm going."

Darshan's eyes narrowed, puzzlement showing for the first time on his face. "You don't want us to find the monster." He paused for a moment, and then voiced the obvious question. "Why?"

Seifer stared at him, wondering what the next move was and weighing his options. Of course, he couldn't just tell him why he was off in the woods trying to stop them. Of all the people to suddenly show up, he supposed that he was one of the most unexpected. That was an advantage he hadn't counted on. Still, there was at least one other SeeD in the area, and he wasn't going to dismiss her. This man was only half of the equation, and he was working blind.

"I can't let you," Darshan shook his head, reaching to his back to draw out the short sword that rested there. "I used to admire you, you know...back at Garden. You held everyone in the palm of your hand with fear. Nobody crossed you, and you got respect." He swallowed visibly, causing Seifer to ponder for a moment what sort of effect he'd had on Darshan so long ago. "Even heroes die. I can't let you stop me here."

"Didn't think you would," Seifer replied, ignoring the first part of his speech.

Darshan crouched, his grip solid on his sword, and then with a flash he advanced. Out of practice, Seifer barely countered with Hyperion in time. Darshan had the gift of speed, and his light sword whipped through the air with a menacing hiss. Seifer parried hard with his right arm, using the weight of hyperion to overpower his opponent.

Curling one lip up in effort, Darshan leapt back and held one hand out in front of him.

"Meteo-"

Seifer rushed at him before he could finish the spell, not prepared to withstand a strong magical attack. He slammed into Darshan with his shoulders, knocking the other man to the ground. A loud breath puffed out of his small frame, and as his eyes rolled back he lashed out with the short sword again, catching Seifer's arm but only managing to rip through his coat.

It only took a moment for Darshan to regain his breath, and he vaulted back up onto his feet with determination and an unceasing will to win. Seifer swung hyperion broadly, triggering when the moment was right. But Darshan slithered out of the way just in time. But Seifer surprised him with something that Garden didn't teach and landed a hard punch with his free hand. Darshan reeled back with surprise, blood from his broken lip dribbling hotly down his chin. He wiped it away, shaking drips of crimson into the snow.

"There are no rules to battle, you know," Seifer grunted.

Darshan came at him again, short sword sailing. It took all of Seifer's command to keep the blade from ripping through his body, and with his attention diverted he didn't notice his opponent retrieve a second weapon. He felt a sharp jab of pain in his arm as the small dagger ripped through his forearm, releasing a steady stream of blood that quickly began to soak the downy material of Seifer's coat. The searing pain reverberated up his arm to fill his entire body, making adrenaline surge up within him.

Seifer kicked Darshan's feet out from under him, dropping him to the ground again, and this time didn't waste his opportunity. He let hyperion drop with all it's weight and managed to catch Darshan in the leg as he tried to scramble away. Nearly growling, Seifer leapt on top of the other man, crushing him down into the earth. Rolling him over, Seifer let loose with a furious volley of fists. They connected hard with Darshan's face, splitting Seifer's knuckles open so that their blood mixed. He felt Darshan's nose break under the force of one of his hits, and with another he felt a tooth become permanently dislodged.

Groaning miserably with pain, Darshan dug his dagger as far as he could into Seifer's thigh which was holding his hand down.

Howling and bleeding anew, Seifer rolled off of him and stumbled away clutching his wound.

Panting and spitting blood, Darshan pulled himself precariously to his feet. He stumbled drunkenly with pain, one of his knees locking while the other refused to. He regained his footing at last and reached down to his belt, pulling out yet another weapon. Seifer stared at him, dizzy with loss of blood and agony. Hyperion was still clutched in his right hand, and with less gusto than before, he prepared himself for the next volley.

Behind Darshan, like a ghost materializing from the woods, a black form suddenly emerged. The color of pitch, it stood out against the snow like an angry blemish. And it growled, deep and menacingly. The sight of the wolf burned into the back of Seifer's eyes and spun around him, blurring out the figure of the oncoming Darshan. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, and the searing pain ebb slowly away.

It rose up inside of him, bubbling out of his skin. He twisted back away from Darshan and the wolf, fearing the latter more. Drool ran down his chin, and he felt himself collapse into the cold snow. The world spun about, a massive swirl of color and sound. And in its vortex, he slowly began to break apart. His back arched, and rolling nausea cascaded over him. He could feel it overtaking him, wiping logical thought from his mind until there was only an empty fury.

He rose up and screamed, the release a roar that echoed off the mountains. Rage filled him, and with a low growl he pounced on the terrified figure of Darshan Zinnovy. Zinnovy's features had blanched, his face as white as the snow. The beast that hovered over him triggered within him sudden and horrible understanding.

Darshan screamed loud and long, the sound fueling the beast that loomed over him. It attacked, no longer with the calculation and desperation of a human being, but with the sheer ferocity and force of a true monster. Gnashing claws tore limbs from Darshan's body, flinging them across the scarlet snow into trees and rocks. Blood lust and a strange, pained devotion fueled the beast, lending to him the feral strength of madness.

Blood. So much blood.

His thoughts were diminished, whispers in a storm.

God...please...

He ravaged the now limp body of the SeeD, feeling flesh slip between his claws. _Pain. Pain. So much pain. _He roared again, tasting metallic blood in his mouth.

The wolf jumped out then in front of him once more, a disruption amongst the beast's most inner thoughts. He retreated, repelled by the canine for reasons he couldn't begin to fathom. And then, the urge stuck. _Retreat. Run. Escape. Go -- go and don't stop._

He ran, half crazed with split horror and animalistic frenzy, and left the black wolf behind to stand amongst the tattered remains of Darshan Zinnovy. The gray, who had all along been hidden in the trees, had already left in a flash of silver. The whole site stank of death and evil, leaving Thero with a hard stone in his stomach. He stepped back into the trees, concealing himself again, to watch them arrive.

The blonde woman stumbled into the scene first, her face struck with utter horror. She spun around, her mouth covered with her hand, and nearly ran into the man behind her, who caught her right before she bent over double and vomited into the snow.

Thero watched and pitied them. But, he wasn't theirs. And they still wouldn't suffer so much as they thought. They didn't understand.

"I..." she choked. "I heard him screaming. Oh God..."

She sunk down into the snow, and Thero could nearly feel all of her emotions bleeding away into the earth she was huddling. For the moment, she was broken. But she wouldn't stay that way. She was strong, he could feel it.

Maybe, he thought,_ she could be it._

He didn't know if she had the capacity. But it was possible.

Turning, he sprinted off into the snow, following Pallas' tracks in pursuit of their real problem. It was getting worse. His lungs puffed as he ran. The time had come, the one they'd been mumbling about for months. And there were only a few options left, ones they needed to take advantage of immediately.

He easily caught up with Pallas, and the two stood on the lip of the valley together and watched the beast running through it's belly, dragging along all of his sins and pain behind him, stumbling along the very edge of damnation.


	7. Quell My Passion

A/N: I'm sorry if this fic seems to be moving too slowly, and I do realize how heavily reliant upon some original characters it is. I certainly hope that isn't detracting too much from it as a whole. I have this whole thing plotted out, and these parts really are essential.

_Who then can warm my soul?  
Who can quell my passion?_

Chapter 7: Quell My Passion

Bella looked down into the snow, her heart thudding lethargically in her chest. She clutched the satellite phone to the side of her face and listened to the empty ring emanating from it. She blinked slowly, almost in disbelief, and bit severely into her bottom lip.

"Balamb Garden, this is Quistis Trepe, how may I help you?" A woman's voice came suddenly on the line, shocking Bella out of her stupor. For a moment, it was difficult for her to remember exactly who she was calling and why. But the haunting images came back all too easily -- the blood and the stark terror.

"Quistis..." she managed to choke out, and then paused for a long shuddering breath. "This is Bella."

"Bella." Quistis sounded surprised. "Is there a problem?"

Is there a problem? Problem was an understatement. There had been a disaster, a catastrophe. Bella had always known deep inside that it was possible someone she was working with could die, she'd even come to accept on an intellectual level that a mission could lead to her own death, but she'd never imagined anything near to this.

"Bella?" Quistis prompted.

"Yes...there's a problem," Bella nodded, even though she knew the other woman couldn't see her.

"Well," Quistis let a breathy, almost disgruntled sigh. "What is it?"

"Darshan's dead." Bella covered her mouth after saying so, wanting to close the vile words back into her body. She wanted to deny that it was possible and forget she'd ever heard of Trabia, let alone been there. As her fingernails bit slowly into her fleshy cheeks, there was a long silence over the phone.

"Oh..." Quistis finally murmured, at a loss. "Um...why...I mean...what happened?"

Bella winced. "We split up, looking for the monster," she began, the words becoming increasingly easier as she continued to speak. "I was with Detective Lee, but Darshan insisted on going off on his own. A few minutes later, we heard screaming and...and...roaring. We ran to find him, but when we got there, there was just...just _nothing _left." With as hard as she was attempting to remain composed, her breath shuddered when she drew it in.

"Alright...okay." She could almost see Quistis nodding. "Are you still able to complete the mission?"

Complete the mission? Was she crazy? Someone just died. If she could see it....if she knew...she wouldn't ask.

Bella was dumbfounded and responded with a feeble murmur which Quistis took for acquiescence.

"I'll send someone to assist you," she promised. "And someone to collect...the remains."

Looking back down into the snow, Bella nodded. "Okay."

"And, Bella?" Quistis took a long breath. "I know this is hard to accept but...this is part of what we do. Things like this happen, and there isn't anything you can do to prevent it. It's not your fault. And you still have Mr. Lee with you. Lean on him for a bit. You're a strong girl. You'll get past this."

A hot tear burned its way down Bella's frosty cheek. "Okay."

"I'll talk to you again soon, Bella," Quistis said slowly. "Try and stay focused."

Focused. Bella couldn't stop herself from snorting with disbelieving laughter. She wasn't sure what she'd expected to hear, but a firm and unemotional buck up certainly wasn't what she'd been looking for. On the other hand, a part of her understood why Darshan's death was being brushed aside. They were military, part of elite mercenary forces. She was expected to move on and not dwell on the darker side of her work. They even taught classes in Garden on it. The professors called it _professionalism_ and _emotional disconnection_.

"Yes, Sir," she responded.

"Contact me with a report when your backup arrives," Quistis replied staunchly.

Bella's arm tensed and then went lax. Muttering that she would send in her report soon, she turned the phone off and dropped it down into the snow. It created a small cavern at her feet, and she flopped down in front of it, the chill from the snow creeping up into the flesh of her rear. She needed a few moments to think, to put everything back together again. Darshan was gone, and she had to continue on the mission without him. She had to track down the very monster that had torn her partner to pieces. For a moment, it was all too much to take in.

"Bella?" Patrick Lee's hand fell on her shoulder. She turned to look back at him, and his face was both sympathetic and firm. "I contacted someone to come take care of this." One of his thumbs jerked back to where Darshan was laying. His dark hand squeezed her shoulder softly, and he offered her a small, encouraging smile. It meant something that he cared, but Bella was too numb to figure out exactly what. Instead, she sat in the snow and stared out into the trees, aware of Lee only because he was still touching her. She felt as if her world had been tipped upside down, and no matter what she did there was no way to really right it again. Granted, Darshan hadn't exactly been her favorite person in the world...but for him to die? And so horribly?

Her bottom was nearly numb by the time a group of men arrived, toting with them bags of equipment. They had latex gloves on, and one of them held a long yellow bag which he stretched out on the ground. A body bag, almost inconspicuous with it's daisy yellow shade. One would never guess the carnage that it could contain. It was an assault to her eyes, and she turned away.

"She the other SeeD?" she heard one of the men ask Lee.

"Horrible..."

"Poor thing..."

"Are more coming?"

Bella couldn't help feeling bitter. The Trabians didn't want them there. Darshan had died for them, and they didn't even really care. At night, in the little house that Ekalaka had provided for them in a new public housing project, Darshan had quietly told her of his reservations about the mission. There hadn't been a doubt in his mind that they were wasting their time. To the Trabians, the monster was just another feature of the landscape. It had killed people, but for most of them it hadn't killed anyone that they knew, and the facts behind their deaths couldn't really be proven. The plan had originally been to land in Ekalaka and proceed to White Pine where the most recent murder had taken place. She wished that they'd gotten out of town right away instead of lazily grouping and amassing supplies and information. Little good it all had done for Darshan. But the people didn't care that he'd died for them. They only wanted their singular way of life to be kept perfectly intact, no matter the cost.

Lifting her head, she looked around her and out into the trees. The whole forest was covered in a thick blanket of snow. The mountains surrounding them were just another growth of ice. _What a wasteland_.

Her sight riveted on a rock protruding up from the white, all smooth planes and soft curves. Following along one particularly nice line, she came to a set of shocking amber eyes. Starting, she closed her eyes and shook her head. She was really loosing her mind now, beginning even to see things. But when she opened her eyes again, they were still there, staring out at her from a fuzzy face and body that was half hidden in the snow.

The two held eye contact for one breathless moment before the creature bolted, throwing up a blinding wall in it's wake.

"Detective Lee!" Bella screamed, lurching up from her spot on the ground. The bottoms of her thighs were numb, and she stumbled when she came so suddenly to her feet. With some effort, she regained her balance and yelled again. "Patrick!"

"What?" he materialized beside her, as if he'd been there all along and she hadn't noticed.

"There!" she pointed wildly. "It was there!" Fumbling, she reached to her waist for her weapon and secured it firmly in her grip. She wasn't going to be surprised like Darshan was.

"What?" Lee asked.

"The monster," she explained breathlessly, taking off into the woods. "It was here! Dammit! The thing's been watching us all along!" She was going to get it, and it was going to pay. A muscle in her jaw cried out as she clenched her teeth, and the pounding of her boots against the ground reverberated up her spine.

Lee wasn't far behind her. "Bella! Wait!"

"If we don't get it now," she panted, "we might never get it!" They had everything they needed. They were well equipped to go off into the wilderness in search of a monster. And Bella was feeling a thirst for vengeance rise up in her. Like some sort of avenging Fury, she was propelled onward and couldn't stop.

There was a clear and somewhat sloppy path through the snow that was easy to follow, even in her state. Occasionally, she caught tantalizing glimpses of black that set her heart racing anew. They were close. Patrick Lee was panting hard behind her, his steps falling further and further behind. No other forces in the world were as well trained as SeeD, and her lungs were heaving efficiently even when Lee began to stumble.

"Bella..." he pleaded, "this is crazy. We're never going to catch this thing on foot."

Stubbornly, she ignored him. The last thing she wanted to hear was that she was being irrational. She could and she would catch this monster, and she would put an end to its miserable existence. Then she could go home. Only with that could she really be at peace again. A deep wound inside of her was festering, and in the freshness of it, she doubted that it would ever heal.

"I can't..." Lee was falling further behind her. "Wait..."

She plunged headlong through the trees, following hot on the trail. So myopic was her field of view that she had to skid to a stop when the trail came to a sudden end at a large, black lump on the ground. She tensed and took a quick inventory of her spells, fully prepared for all out battle before she noticed a shock of brilliant blonde hair sticking up out of the lump. And then, upon further investigation, she noticed an arm, and a foot and -- she gasped -- blood.

Rushing up to the man, she threw herself on her knees beside him and turned him over. A young man stared up at her, his face flushed and drawn. His face was smeared with blood, enough that she couldn't tell immediately where it was coming from.

"Oh my God," she breathed, her heart racing now for an entirely new reason. She ran her hands down his body, and they came back soaked in blood. There was a wound on his thigh, and his clothes were slowly turning the snow pink.

"Bella, what are you --" Lee came up behind her and then froze. She lifted her gloved hand, now laced in crimson. With this new emergency, the monster was all but forgotten as her gentler side won out over the raw rage that had momentarily possessed her.

"We have to get this man some help," she announced emphatically, her heart swelling strangely with new purpose. "Quickly." The man stared up at her, unmoving, and oddly familiar. Each puff of his breath hovered in the air and dissipated, counting the precious seconds.

***

Seifer was dreaming. He knew that it was a dream, but all the same couldn't escape from the world his mind wrapped around him. As always, _she _was there. She never failed to appear in his dreams anymore, and when she approached him he could smell the intoxicating scent of her. Gasping at the air for the essence of her, he relished in her company. So close, so available for him to touch. A sense of reverence filled him and he shook before her in spiritual rapture. An easy, slow smile crossed her face, and she reached out to take his hand.

The contact send a chill racing up his arm that permeated the rest of his body. Her fingers clasped his, and she pulled him closer. Between them, he was aware of her chest heaving with every breath. He was aware of the way the motion of her head made her earrings jingle invitingly. Slithering up his forearm, her hand made its way to his shoulder and eventually came to rest at the back of his head. He stared, a slave ready and willing to do her bidding.

"My knight," she whispered, her mouth close to his.

Seifer shook, the energy leaching out of his body.

"You want to be with me forever, don't you?" she asked. Dumbly, he nodded. It was all he could to to answer her, and his knees felt weak under his weight.

She smiled, a row of perfect white teeth peeking through darkly rouged lips.

"Of course you do," she whispered. Her hand at the back of his neck tensed, and she reflexively drew him toward her. Her nails bit into his skin, making him gasp audibly. There was something perverse and delightful in the way she was treating him, and a part of him fed off of it. When his mouth fell open to utter his pain, she lunged forward, catching it with her own.

A kiss. Her witch's lips embraced his own, and her hand held him firmly. With unnatural strength, she held him still with just that one hand, bruising his flesh. Groaning, Seifer opened his eyes and saw hers staring back through a halo of exotic purple streaks. Rising up behind her, black feathery wings lashed out, and Seifer suddenly choked, overcome.

The breath was sucked out of his body, and something lodged in his throat. Desperate, he struggled against her, but she was firm. He flailed wildly in fear of death encroaching upon him. Tears burst forth from his eyes, streaming down his cheeks, and his body chilled to the consistency of ice.

Then, as suddenly as she had pulled him in, she shoved him away. He landed on his backside, gasping for air. A few long heaves brought him back to his senses, and as he looked up at her exotic form, she folded her wings in. "You're mine."

Seifer gasped loudly, the sound rocking him back into reality. Confused and frightened, he looked around the dim room he was lying in. Unable to separate the real world from his dream, he searched for a terrifying moment for the ebony wings of Ultimecia.

"Oh..." a soft voice gasped beside him.

He turned, and everything in his world came to pieces when he saw her. "Quistis?"

She stared back at him, her blonde hair illuminated like a halo by the dim light from another room. Looking down on him, she sat in judgment, some kind of avenging angel. For a confused moment he was both relieved and terrified.

"Quistis...I..." he tried to roll toward her, but a sharp pain in his thigh stopped him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know...I didn't understand..."

"I'm not Quistis." She sat stiffly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Seifer blinked and then stared. The memories came back in a haunting succession of flashes. Running into the woods, trying to save himself and finding SeeD instead. With a twitch, he remembered the battle and the hot, searing pain of a knife pushing its way into his thigh. And, with dark revulsion, he remembered feeling the SeeD squirm under him as he tore away limbs and relished in the taste and smell of blood. Seifer's stomach muscles tensed, and for a second he thought he might throw up.

And this Quistis...this wasn't really Quistis. It was the other SeeD. He tried not to let his absolute horror show on his face. Did she know who he was? Was she going to take him back to Balamb? Was he already there? And how had she found him in the first place.

"You were hurt," she seemed to see at least confusion in his countenance. "My name is Bella. I brought you back here." If she was curious as to how he knew of Quistis Trepe, she didn't ask. For that, at least, he was grateful. "Lay back and relax...you need some time to recuperate."

Even as he dropped his head back down onto the pillow under him, he still continued to stare at her, all the while seeing Quistis Trepe. He blinked slowly, feeling from her presence a warm flowing peace. Every part of his body ached, but it didn't matter because she was there. She was with him. She'd forgiven him. For everything.

"Is there anything I can get you?" the woman asked, bringing him once again back out of his delusion.

"No," Seifer's voice croaked, thick with the warring emotions inside of him. He pinched his eyes closed, dropping himself back into darkness. Both women smiled back at him through the veil, Ultimecia a phantom and Quistis a dream. A fragile part of his heart broke, and a pervasive sense of sadness overcame Seifer Almasy. Stripped down the the rawest elements of his form, he turned his head away from the strange woman so she wouldn't see his broken tears.


	8. Out of Dreams

Out of these dreams -- a boat  
I will sail home to you.

Chapter 8: Out of Dreams

Bella sat on the floor, her elbows propped on her knees, and raised a steamy cup of coffee up to her lips. She didn't like coffee but felt obligated to drink it because it was a gift. She cringed as the bitter brew slid down her throat and looked over the rim of her cup at Patrick Lee. His coat was laying behind him, a puffy pile of gortex, and he was leaning back against his hands.

"How's he doing?" he asked, taking a drink of his own cup of coffee.

"Better," Bella replied simply. She hadn't voiced her thoughts yet to Lee. She wasn't sure what to do about the sudden and shocking appearance of Seifer Almasy on the scene. She hadn't recognized him until he called her Quistis, and then the vague sense of familiarity came crashing into realization. One of the world's most notorious criminals was laying in the next room. He was an infamous traitor. He was an example at Garden of everything that could go wrong, a model of the self-destruction that came from not following orders and delusional aspiration. He was a frightening example of what could happen when a SeeD lost sight of what really mattered. And he was currently under Bella's care.

"Your Garden called my office earlier this morning," Lee informed her. "They're sending someone out later today to come get Darshan."

"Who are they sending?" Bella asked.

Lee looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't remember the name...sorry. A girl though."

"Mmm." Bella wasn't sure why she cared. At the back of her mind, she secretly hoped that Quistis would arrive on the scene to take care of things. It was obvious that she was the person the situation required. After all, she and Seifer apparently had some history that Bella was unaware of. Peeking into the room holding the man she'd been taught to despise made an uncomfortable heat drip down her spinal column. She felt like she was somehow committing some sort of sin by harboring him, but at the same time didn't know what else to do. She was sure his appearance was no mere coincidence, but she couldn't piece together how he had anything to do with a monster or deaths of people who were, to him, complete strangers.

She took another drink of coffee, making a face as it crossed her tongue.

"Look...Bella..." Lee leaned forward, crossing his legs and resting his elbows against his knees. "I know this is...just crazy. And I don't blame you for being off your game right now. But...you know...I'm here for you." He extended his hand toward her, his tan complexion staring expectantly at her from under bleached blonde hair. Bella stared at his hand for a minute, her mind coming to a stop.

"Are you serious?"

Frowning, he jerked his hand back. "No! ... I just meant..." His hand twitched nervously as he flopped it into the protection of his lap, still stinging with rejection. His thin mouth twisted into a little pretzel as he studied the floor, mumbling incoherent things until his voice finally just faded away and his jaw locked shut.

A wave of discomfort washing over her, Bella pushed herself up off the floor. "I'm just going to go...check on...you know." She swallowed and hurriedly turned her back on him. Could the man have picked a worse time to tell her about his feelings? She'd only just recently stumbled upon the bloody death of her partner. The blood soaked snow still flashed before her vision, which was why she hadn't yet slept. Her muscles were twitchy with sleep deprivation, and her eyes felt like they were sinking back into her skull. Surely her brain needed rest, and it was shriveling away under the strain. And she had other problems on top of that, she reflected as she stepped into the dark, sticky room holding the sleeping form of Seifer Almasy.

His head was lolled off to one side, his mouth hanging open slightly and just a little bit of drool on the starchy white pillowcase. She stepped up to his bed and looked over him, at a loss for what to do. She really had no authority to keep him. Garden hadn't ever brought up any charges against him, nor had any of the governments that had been involved in the war. And, despite an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach that his appearance was important, she couldn't link him to Darshan's death either. Other than that he'd been in the general area and may have seen something. That was the tenuous thread she held him by, and he could break it with one simple word. He could deny it, and what could she do?

Lowering herself down into her chair, she crossed her legs and leaned forward. "Seifer."

He stirred, rolling his head away from her.

"Seifer, wake up." Hesitantly, she reached out and poked him in the arm.

Seifer came suddenly awake, gasping. His green eyes rolled in his head until they came to focus on her, at which point a guarded and stony look settled down over his face. He swallowed once, his Adam's apple bobbing. Picking up the glass of water she had left sitting for him on the nightstand, she offered it as a sort of peace offering. Slowly, he took it from her and took a long drink.

"You realize that I'm SeeD?" she asked.

He nodded, looking pointedly at her uniform.

"My name is Bella," she offered.

"What Garden are you from?" he finally asked, laying his head back down.

"Balamb," she replied, watching him and debating what to say next. She decided to go with the blunt and the obvious. "You went there..."

He snorted. "Yeah."

Arching her eyebrow, she pinned him with a stare. "You called me Quistis."

He seemed to jump at this little bit of information. It apparently was a bit of a sore spot. He stared at her for a moment and then shrugged, attempting to be nonchalant about it. "So what? You look like her."

Bella leaned back, deciding not to tread into the personal territory that existed between him and Quistis Trepe. "I found you in the forest," she announced. "I need to know why you were there."

"I chop wood for the general store," he replied. "Holt lets me work behind his house."

"How come I haven't seen you around town?"

"Because I'm out in the woods chopping wood all day," he answered her sharply, giving her a look that clearly said he wasn't appreciating all her questions. "You've got no right to accuse me of anything."

"I'm not accusing you," she shook her head. "I'm just asking some questions. Seeing as I saved your life, I'd say you at least could give me some answers."

"Don't flatter yourself," he rolled his eyes. "You didn't save my life. The doctor in town couldn't handle a real emergency. I don't owe anything to you."

As cross as ever. Bella decided to just be honest with him. "My partner was killed out there. Shortly before I found you. I need to know what you saw, and how you got hurt."

Seifer's lips curled down into a scowl. "I'm not going to tell you anything. No matter what I say you're just going to turn it around. A dead SeeD and Seifer Almasy in the same place? We all know how that happened, don't we?"

"Maybe we do," she said slowly in return, drawing a long look from him. Perturbed with his stubborn unwillingness to help, she pushed herself up off the chair and sighed. "You have a point that everyone is just going to assume you played a roll in this. Maybe you should think about that for a while."

He snorted and turned his face away.

She grumbled and left, forgetting momentarily that Patrick Lee was waiting for her in the other room.

***

Seifer heard the front door close and laid still for a few moments before rolling out of bed. His thigh was stiff, but not very painful. There was really only one plus to his condition, and healing rate was it. Of course, he wouldn't need to heal fast if it weren't for all the other screwy things going on in his life. The blonde SeeD looked so much like Quistis to Seifer's weary eyes that it was hard for him to keep his sensibility about him when she was around. She brought back old, buried feelings to the surface. Even some Seifer hadn't truly suspected that he had. In any event, he wasn't at all comfortable under the same roof as her and he needed to get out.

All of her arguments to get him to talk, though astute, were effectively moot. He couldn't tell her anything because in reality he was the person who'd killed the SeeD. How could he possibly explain that he'd transformed into a monster, and that the process was now getting utterly out of his control? How could he tell anyone that Seifer Almasy, yet again, was a source of unbridled evil in the world? He didn't want to be that person anymore. He was tired of his past dogging him, and all he wanted now was release from the cycle he'd begun. He wanted out and away. Seifer could only imagine what a real life would be like.

Blinking once to steady his vision, he pushed himself off the bed and onto his feet. They were sturdy as ever under him, his weight pushing his boots down into the squishy carpet. Shifting his weight from leg to leg, he tested his resiliency and balance. Okay there...and okay there. He was ready to go. His coat was hanging on the back of the chair that the blonde SeeD had recently vacated. The downy, puffy garment wrapped around him, trapping warmth uncomfortably close to his body in the heated house. Hyperion, too, was there, resting against the wall.

When he stepped out into the hallway, he found it empty. The end of the hallway opened up into a rather sparse living room, which as far as he could tell was also empty. He thudded slowly down the hallway, slightly favoring one of his legs over the other. The living room opened up before him, a bare expanse of carpet and walls. An empty styrofoam coffee cup sat in the middle of the room, only half drained of it's dark brew. Seifer grimaced slightly at the site of it. He wasn't a coffee drinker and couldn't understand what anyone would find tempting about the bitter drink that was often so close to boiling that a person could only sip it.

He stepped over the cup and up to the door, which had been left unlocked. With a slight shudder of sick pleasure, he locked it on his way out, closing it firmly behind him. The day was surprisingly bright and crisp. His breath froze and floated around for fleeting moments every time he exhaled. A flash of shadow echoed out of the snow to the corner of his eye, and with a sort of familiar realization, he knew what it was. The wolves. They were always there with him, hovering about in his footsteps, watching him. And they were more present after the transformations, in his great times of need. He frowned and examined the empty space he thought he'd seen one in, not knowing where to take his thoughts on their odd presence.

"Where are you going?" A shrill voice called out from the street.

The blonde SeeD, standing decked to the hilt in her black and gold Garden coat and uniform. One of her mittened hands was extended out toward him, a little bump at the end obviously an accusing finger.

"You can't go anywhere! I'm not finished with you, yet!" She started up the walk, her face contorted in an unsightly scowl.

"You can't keep me here," he sturdied himself. "I'm fine, and I don't have anything to say to you. So I'm getting back to my life."

"Someone has _died_," she said, as if that thought would effect him.

"That's your problem," he pointed out.

"Reinforcements are due here any minute," she warned, jabbing at him with the finger again. "You can stay here, or you'll have all of SeeD on your tail. You _are_ Seifer Almasy, you know!"

"Get out of my way," he warned, positioning Hyperion in front of him so she could clearly see it.

"Are you threatening me?" she gasped, outraged.

"Maybe I am."

"Maybe I should call Quistis here." Her eyes grew wide with the threat. "You want to see her, don't you?"

Seifer's breath was taken out of him by the comment, and he stumbled to find words for a moment. Deep in his peripheral vision, he saw another flash of shadow. Seeing that she'd obviously hit a nerve, the blonde stepped close to him and actually jabbed him in the chest with her hand.

"I could take you right back there to her," she announced. "I'm sure Quistis wouldn't mind throwing you in a detention cell like she always used to. Darshan is _dead_. My partner was ripped to shreds out there!" She pointed in the general direction of the woods. "And _you_ know what happened! I'm not letting you go until I find out."

"I'm not staying here," he warned her.

"You're not leaving."

Seifer had to close his eyes to do it. As the woman stood in front of him, staring up defiantly, she looked so much like Quistis that he could practically smell her light perfume. He knew what he had to do, but he couldn't look her in the eye as he did it. His hand shot up sharply, bringing the hilt of Hyperion into contact with hard flesh. He heard something snap, and a cry of pain as she reeled away from him, surprised at the attack. He knew she would be, but he didn't have anything left to loose.

When he opened his eyes, she was cradling her jaw, which he supposed was probably fractured from the impact. Thick tears streamed down her cheeks, reeking of the pain that was racing through her body. He felt a pang of sympathy for her, but fought the desire to coddle her and instead took the opportunity to get out of town. As he passed by her, she held out her hand and attempted to cast a spell, but the words were garbled with blood and pain, and she slumped down into a feeble crouch on the sidewalk as he sped away. If more SeeDs really were coming, he had to get out of Trabia all together. And that left him only one option, the port town of Springdale on the other side of the pass. It would take him a good portion of the day to trek through the low, curvy trail, but the town was close enough that he could make it before daybreak. He didn't care where he ended up, he just had to leave.

His body was beginning to grow cold, and a revulsion crept over him, as he made his way out of town and along the gravel road marked by lines of thin poles meant to poke up above the snow. With every step, his self loathing grew, feeding the darkness inside of him until he could almost feel a separate heart beat from his own pounding inside the deepest recesses of his mind. He pinched his eyes closed and kept walking.

If he stopped, he'd be caught. They'd find out what he was, and he would become an object of ever increasing hatred for the filth that contaminated him. He was possessed of the worst sorts of evil. And though his will to go on with his life was beginning to wane, he under no terms wanted it to happen at the hands of Garden. They would probably prolong his misery to study him, or maybe even use him for their own benefit -- that sounded more like Garden.

Seifer stumbled on through the heavy snow. As the hours wore by and the sun dipped further toward the horizon, he began to feel the strain of the work on his recovering body. He knew that what he was doing was far from healthy, but dying wasn't a very healthy activity either. So he pressed on, his legs numb and aching. The longer he walked, the more he favored his good leg, leaving an lopsided trail behind him.

The wolves were still there, he could feel them now. He kept his eyes riveted forward, knowing he would never see them if he bothered to turn around. From somewhere inside of him, the thought burst forward that if he collapsed out there in the wildness, they would eat him. And that didn't seem like a wholly bad idea. It was the perfect way for Seifer Almasy to go. Frozen in his own desperate loneliness, torn apart by hunger and frenzy. It was almost poetic.

Night eventually fell, deepening the cold down to his bones. He'd stopped shivering at some point and now only drove on with a delirious kind of determination, stripped down to the stupid animal that existed at his core.

He wasn't quite sure when he reached the town of Springdale, or by what force he managed to keep himself moving. At some point, he fancied that he'd heard Ragnarok fly overhead, missing him in the trees. Ice crystals had formed on his face, crusted in his eyebrows and around his mouth. They stung his skin when he reached up to brush them off. Springdale shot up from nowhere in particular, a traditional little school house on the very edge of town that was white with green trim and had a little steeple with a bell. Seifer stood and stared at it for a moment before becoming lucid enough to make his way toward the docks.

This was a familiar process. He'd been through it a number of times before. Sneak onto one of the boats, hide with the cargo, escape as soon as the boat docks and hope nobody has the presence of mind to try anything noble.

The ship's giant shiny sails glinted back the few lights in the city. They were folded up in their resting position, the joints all wrapped up together like the wings of a giant metal dragon. He'd never actually seen them fully extended, and he distantly wondered what a ship looked like out on the open sea.

From the rise that led down to the harbor, he picked out a dark, abandoned looking ship that was bobbing between two empty docks. Wearily, he advanced toward it. The cold had made him clumsy, and he had to make a concerted effort to be stealthy. As it turned out, there was no reason to be particularly quiet, as the boat seemed utterly abandoned when he got up to it. The trust Trabians had in each other, due in part to their own isolation, was a constant god-send to Seifer, and all others who meant to do ill. Crime was easy there. And he snuck onto the ship without being noticed.

The cargo holds were already filled with crates that were strapped with yellow and black nylon ropes to the sides of the ship to keep them from jostling on the trip. Loosing more and more energy with every step, Seifer stumbled toward the back of the hold and crawled up on top of one of the boxes. With a sigh, he rolled over to the other side of it, landing with a thud behind it where he wouldn't be seen.

His consciousness rolled about dizzily, mixing dream and reality. He licked his lips, thought of Quistis and the boat...and always of Ultimecia. Finally beginning to shudder again, he dropped off into sleep, unaware of the two figures coming toward him and settling in warmly around him. One giant fuzzy form came to rest behind him, and the other in front, her muzzle resting in the crease between his arm and body. Seifer's unconscious shuddering slowed, and the subtle rocking of the boat lulled away the nightmares.

End of Part 1: Exile


	9. Daylight Fading

Part 2: Evening Falls

  


When the evening falls  
and the daylight is fading  
From within me calls  
Could it be I am sleeping?

Chapter 9: Daylight Fading

Quistis sat in her office, swiveling back and forth in her chair and tapping her fingertips across her knee. Her legs were crossed, and every time she swung her chair to the left, the toe of her boot would thump against the desk, creating a steady beat to her impatient fidgeting. Blankly, she stared at her computer screen which was blazing with the Balamb Garden insignia. The hand that wasn't wearing through the taunt skin across her knee was hovering near the phone, waiting for it to ring. She hated waiting for people to call her back. _Thump. Thump. Thump._

"Come on, Cid," she sighed and rolled her eyes. "You don't need to look over every single detail, just okay the roster so I can get on with my life." She'd spent the better part of the morning finalizing the newest SeeD roster, adding in new specs for the newly admitted SeeDs from the last field exam. She'd sent the updated file up to Cid's office over an hour ago to be approved, and only a few minutes ago had impatiently phoned him to find out when he'd be done, only to be told quite curtly that he would call her back in a moment. She glanced at the clock at the bottom corner of the computer screen and sighed -- a moment had passed many moments ago.

Her hand shot past her phone and latched onto her Balamb Garden coffee mug, which she had filled with water to calm a sleepy early morning jitter that had been bothering her since she got up. Sitting back in her chair, she titled it to her lips for a cool, soothing drink, and as if by magic her phone rang. "About time," she muttered and reached for it. "Balamb Garden, this is Quistis Trepe."

"Quistis...hey." It was a woman's voice, not Cid. "This is Selphie."

"Selphie," Quistis frowned and set her mug down. "What's up?" She had sent Selphie to Trabia to fetch the remains of Darshan Zinnovy in the Ragnarok. Her job was to soothe the situation, replace the downed SeeD, and bring the body back home. Quistis failed to see how any part of her task warranted a call back to Garden. And the fact that she was now calling was worrisome.

"Well..." Selphie hesitated. "I'm in the Esthar Hospital."

"You're what?" Quistis' back went starchy.

"No...no!" Selphie said quickly. "I'm standing in the hospital...I'm not...being hospitalized or anything. When I got here, Bella Cevario had been attacked. She's okay, but her jaw is broken. The doctor in Ekalaka gave her some pain killers, and we flew her down into Esthar. I talked to the doctor about hurrying her through...and they're taking her into surgery in a few minutes."

"Surgery?"

"Her jaw is pretty bad," Selphie sighed. "They need to take out some of the bone fragments, and they're going to have to wire her jaw shut."

Quistis rubbed her forehead with her palm. "Selphie, we need to get a report out of her ASAP. Her partner died, and we need an official report how."

Selphie let out an exasperated sigh. "I know that, but she can't exactly tell me anything with her jaw wired shut, and she's out of it from the pain killers. I tried getting her to write out a report on the way here, but she couldn't do it. I can't get anything strait out of her."

"Damn it," Quistis turned in her chair to face her computer and opened the file to fill out an official field incident report. "How about the EPD guy? Was he there?"

"He's here with me," Selphie replied. "Want to talk to him?"

"Yeah, put him on."

There was a short, muffled exchange, and Quistis could hear the creak of plastic as the phone was passed along. Finally, prefaced by a short breath, a man's voice came on the phone with a firm, "Hello?"

Quistis looked at the mission file and found the right name. "Hello, Patrick Lee?"

"Yes."

"This is Quistis Trepe, I talked to you before about arranging for SeeD to assist you with your investigation."

"Oh. Right. Hello, Miss Trepe." Talkative guy. She supposed he was probably used to asking the questions rather than answering them.

"Were you with the two SeeDs when Mr. Zinnovy died?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, I was with Bella."

"Wonderful," she hovered her fingers over her keyboard. "I need to ask you some questions about your case and Darshan's death, if that would be alright."

"I'd be glad to help," he answered. "If it will get that monster captured."

***

Seifer awoke to a commotion, not quite sure where he was or how he'd gotten there. He looked around the darkness around him, thinking for a disturbing moment that maybe he'd died. But then, lurching to the forward part of his brain as if it had never been missing, the memory of his trek to the boat overtook him, and he looked up at the cargo crates in front of him with realization. Underneath him, he could feel the slow rocking of the ship, and he knew that they'd come into a harbor. Wherever they were, it was Seifer's stop.

"Get those things off deck!" one voice bellowed along with footsteps thundering by the cargo hold where Seifer had ferreted himself away.

Something was going on, but he didn't have time to investigate what it was. Instead, he decided to take perhaps the only opportunity he'd get. Stiffly, he pushed himself up onto his feet and climbed back over the create he'd been laying behind. The front of the cargo hold had been emptied of one crate -- or perhaps it had never been there to begin with, Seifer wasn't quite sure -- and the door was hanging open to reveal a darkened hallway beyond. Seifer peeked around the corner before stepping out, and as he started up the set of wooden stairs that would take him up onto the deck, he became more aware of just how frantic the sailors were.

One ran by screaming, clutching at the red knit hat on top of his head. His features were blanched, and he didn't notice the emerging Seifer. In fact, none of the sailors seemed to. All was chaos on deck, and everyone was yelling.

"Over there!"

"Somebody chase them back below deck!"

"Don't run from them!"

"God damn it! Get out of the way!"

Slinking quickly across deck, Seifer quickly made his way to the side of the ship. He grabbed onto the round metal bar that ran the length of the side, and before hurling himself over, looked back behind him. A few men ran by, but only one stopped to look at him. The moment of eye contact was fleeting, and Seifer doubted that he was very recognizable in his current state. But, to be safe, he swung his legs over the side and crashed down through the air into cold sea water. He went under for a moment, submersed in a slower, quieter world, and heard two muted thuds somewhere off to his right. Not sure what they were, he surfaced, and cast his gaze around for shore.

Chagrined, he turned and looked up at the cobalt expanse of Balamb rising on the horizon. The ship bobbed behind him in the harbor, and he was sitting between the carrier ship and a Garden attack vessel. After staring incredulously at it for a moment, he got his bearings and began swimming, knowing exactly where he needed to go. On the far side of the docks was a long, ungroomed beach that was rarely frequented, and the perfect place for him to think about what to do next. Once upon a time, it had been his place. His and...well, he didn't want to think about that.

Hand over hand, he swam, his strength renewed by his long sleep. And he wondered if he'd really woken up at all, or if he was just dreaming. Balamb had, for so long, seemed so far away. It was a place he couldn't hope to return to, the Eden he'd been thrown out of for his sins. But stumbling in the darkness onto a ship, he'd suddenly awoken to find himself back in the very place he'd once called home. And nothing about it had changed. Above him, gulls cried out, and the sun shone brightly on the happy little town. Even the water seemed warm compared to the months he'd spend in Trabia. He missed the heat, and the sunshine, and the relaxation of a long day on the docks in boring little Balamb.

He came around the bay and let himself wash up onto the rocky beach, choking on some salt water as the wave he was cruising with broke and threw him onto land. The beach was littered with little black rocks and broken bits of shell, which Seifer nostalgically picked up and inspected before peeling off his soaked coat and shoes, laying them out in the sun to dry. And, as Seifer peeled away his shirt to relish in the warmth of the sun, he finally allowed himself to think about her, and to consider the possibility.

He was back in Balamb, and Quistis was in Balamb.

Almost as soon as the thought entered his head, he groaned and pushed it away. Who was he to think that maybe she would take him back, or that any of them would? Especially now. Especially since he was now as much a monster in form as in thought. He couldn't ask any of them, her especially, to forgive him. And he didn't deserve to be forgiven anyway. He was Ultimecia's knight. He'd betrayed them beyond repair, even going so far as to reach across the seemingly insurmountable barriers of time to do it. He'd turned against them for a woman he, by right, should have never even known. And he still remembered the look in their eyes when they saw him. Squall had been impassive, as usual, showing nothing. But when Quistis had spotted him on the other side, he remembered the wide shock in her eyes. She'd stood for a moment, back behind Squall with her whip hanging limply in her hand, as if she couldn't believe he was there. He was bad, sure...but she'd never suspected. And he supposed it was an extra jolt to her that he was her own student.

He reached up and rubbed his eyes, wondering why his thoughts were so centered on Quistis.

She was the only real women in his life anymore. He'd tried to have relationships. A few women in Trabia...but they hadn't worked out. More than that, he'd killed them. He cringed, knowing he couldn't do that to her. They'd been together as long as he could remember. The one and only constant presence in his life was her. Longer than Edea, and even longer than Squall, she was there. She had a special place as so many things to him. A sister, and even once upon a time as a friend and companion, and once an object of desire, before Squall had gotten in the way and he'd made a treacherous pact with Rinoa Heartilly.

Not for the first time, he wondered how his life would be different if he'd never met her.

Sitting up, he swept his hair away from his eyes, and he thought about Quistis. About the fleeting moments he'd spend with her and the desperate way he wanted to bring all of that back, if just for a moment. She was the one his mind latched onto, and he turned to look in the direction of Balamb Garden.

It couldn't hurt to see her just once before he left. Just once, to indulge himself just a little, before plunging back into the misery that had come to dominate his life.

***

Quistis hung up the phone and sat back in her chair, not sure what to think. Patrick Lee had been very forthcoming with information, but what he had to offer only seemed to complicate things further. Crossing her legs, she leafed through the notes she had made during her conversation with Lee and made an attempt at putting it all together.

There had been three murders in Trabia, all in the same basic area. Two women and a man, all killed in the same way, apparently by the same beast. A monster which, according to Lee, was quite a brute. They had found a rather large dent in a bathtub at the latest scene -- she ran her finger down her notes -- in the house of a woman named Patricia Marin. The man had been the only one to put up a fight, and they had found hair and skin samples on him and under his fingernails, presumably from the body of his attacker. Lee had also surmised that the monster, whatever it was, did not seem to have a home range or a den, and it did not kill consistently, which meant it wasn't hunting for food. Darshan had been the monster's unlucky fourth victim.

A local had sighted a strange creature in the woods, and Bella, Darshan, and Lee had gone to investigate, at which point they had split up. Bella and Lee had been alerted by Darshan's screams, but by the time they had made it to the scene, Darshan was already dead and the monster had fled.

Quistis took a drink of water.

Bella, according to Lee, sat for a short while before taking off into the trees after what she claimed to be the monster. Together they chased something which Lee never saw, until they came upon a second body. This one, however, was alive. Bella and Lee took the man back into town, where the doctor came and checked on him shortly and then left. According to Lee, the man slept through the night, and the next morning Lee left to go check in with his department, and came back to the house to find Bella on the walk and the door locked behind her, her jaw broken and unable to tell him what had happened. Presumably, she'd been attacked by the man they had picked up, as he had mysteriously vanished.

Once Selphie arrived in the Ragnarok, they spent a few hours flying reconnaissance over the forest looking for any trace of the man before taking off for Esthar to get Bella the medical help she needed. Which brought Quistis up to date, and not quite satisfied. Something about it all bothered her, and she knew some important part of the puzzle was missing. But what really bothered her, more than Darshan's death and Bella's injury and their inability to capture the monster, was Lee's description of the injured man they had picked up in the forest. One particular detail had stood out to him, and it stood out to Quistis as well.

The man had had a gunblade.

The gunblade, because of it's difficulty, was strictly a Garden weapon, and there were very few Garden students (or ex-students) who had ever picked it up. Combined with Lee's physical description -- big guy, blonde hair, scar down the bridge of the nose -- Quistis was lead to a name she hadn't thought of in a long time.

"Seifer." She said it out loud to herself, closing her eyes as the last syllable rolled off her tongue. What did he have to do with all of this? She had no doubt that he was somehow involved. He was _always _involved. It was like being plunged headlong into the past. She looked out her office window at the afternoon sky and allowed herself to think back on the man in question.

She'd know Seifer her entire life. To say that his betrayal during the war had shocked her was an understatement. He'd been her student, and through his assignments and field exams, when she'd accompanied him alone to places like the Fire Cavern, she knew that he had potential. Possibly even more so than Squall, although at the time she would have been hard pressed to acknowledge that. As children they had been...she searched her hazy mind for specific memories. A small smile cracked her face, and she laid her head back. They had been partners in crime. Seifer was the bully, and Quistis was the bossy one. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with, and as the ruling party among the orphanage gang, they'd found it easier to get along and consolidate their powers than bicker over turf.

A flash of guilt assailed her as she recalled all the ways they had conspired to force the other kids to do exactly what they'd wanted. Until she'd gotten adopted, anyway. And then she'd found herself at Garden, and found both Squall and Seifer there, too. But things had changed, and she wasn't part of the close knit group anymore. So she'd satisfied herself with achievement.

She knew that Seifer had been troubled, but she hadn't really wanted to peer past that. Squall, with all his mystery, was infinitely more appealing, and she'd focused strictly on him up until Rinoa arrived on the scene. Still, knowing Seifer for everything that he was, she'd still been surprised to find him on the side of evil, and presently wondered if she was still underestimating him. 

Plagued with distraction, Quistis got back to work. As usual, she worked long into the evening, knowing she was missing out on very little as far as her social life was concerned. Work was her life, and it was that attitude that had gotten here where she was. She didn't have the luxury of a rich father like Rinoa to support her as she prowled the world on a never ending holiday. Quistis only had herself, and she worked to inject some sense of purpose to her life.

When red and yellow cascaded through her window from the setting sun, she finally put away all her files and clocked out, having added more overtime for pay that she wouldn't spend. Her back sore and her legs stiff, she walked down to the Garden parking lot and checked out a car. It was Friday, and she always treated herself on Friday. Taking the car keys from a fresh faced cadet who recognized her as part of the administration, she climbed into the car and slammed the door closed behind her.

She got to Balamb just as the evening was thickening and the lit up signs of shops and stores began to glow. Parking near the docks, she climbed out and stretched with her palms pointed to the sky. A soft groan escaped her, and she swept her hair down out of her clip, leaning back against the car for a moment as she massaged the back of her scalp. Her usual fettuccini alfredo dinner was waiting for her, and her usual waiter (a twenty something man named Brett who Quistis recognized as a once upon a time but failed cadet from Garden) would be waiting to seat her in her usual place. She walked lazily down the main street, and loosened her uniform from around her throat. Dreamily, she considered the conversation she and Brett would have as she walked into the restaurant, just as guarded and overly sweet as it usually was, and she wondered if she should try asking him out once just to see what would happen.

But she knew that wouldn't happen. If he said no, it would ruin her entire routine, and she didn't want to give up the comfort of their weekly meetings quite yet. No, she'd let him move first.

Distractedly, she came up to the restaurant she was meaning to go to, and cast her gaze up and down the street to look for oncoming traffic. Sprinting, she jaywalked across the street and leapt up onto the curb, dodging past a blonde man who was standing looking in the window of a shop.

"Sorry," she muttered as she hit his arm, dropping her hair clip. She bent over to pick it up, and when she righted herself again, he was already a few paces away, going down the street with his hands shoved in his pockets toward the harbor. His longish blonde hair curled around his collar, and his broad shoulders stretched the material of his shirt. Privately, Quistis leaned to see past a person who stepped in between them, and took a longer, appreciative look at the stranger's body. Then, shaking her head pleasantly at herself, stepped into the dimly lit eating establishment to find the genial, brown eyed Brett waiting for her.

"Evening, Quistis." He smiled broadly. "Right this way."


	10. Close to Home

A/N: This is a relatively uneventful chapter...but the next one will have a lot more dialogue and (what you're probably waiting for) the meeting of Seifer and Quistis.

For a moment I stray  
then it holds me completely  
Close to home, I cannot say  
Close to home, feeling so far away

Chapter 10: Close to Home

Seifer tucked his head down, hoping nobody would recognize him, as he hurried back down the cobalt Balamb sidewalk toward the harbor. His heart was pounding hard and his head was spinning. An odd feeling in the pit of his stomach drove him forward and he fought the urge to turn around and look back at the woman he'd been so excited to see. He hadn't really expected her to be there, sprinting across the street toward him with her hair down and flowing. It had been so long since he'd seen her, but she hadn't changed at all. If anything, she looked younger than he remembered. She didn't have the hard and firm look he'd been accustomed to. Not even the one she had once had when she'd been in the midst of SeeD training with her whip curled at her side. Back then she had been a soldier, a military instructor. But now she'd lost that...or maybe he'd lost the ability to see it. He wasn't sure which.

Forking a hand through his hair, he looked up at a flock of gulls that was flying over. They landed nearby on the dock, harassing a man who was sitting trying to eat a hamburger. Leaning back in his bench, he flailed a hand at them, and the white birds pressed him further, sensing the man's unease. Seifer had been there before, and he felt a pang of pity for the man.

He didn't feel quite as he expected. And, really, Seifer wasn't entirely positive how he felt. There was some confusion, mixed emotions of what he was attempting to inject into the situation and what was really going on. Balamb was home, and with as long as he had been dreaming about going back to the sunny beaches and salty air, he was shocked at how it failed to soothe his nerves. He still felt raw, still felt the deep sense of heavy foreboding that followed him around like a plague. And most importantly, he still felt _her _hanging over him. The one presence in his life that wouldn't go away, that effigy from hell with black wings and tiger stripes -- corruption.

Doubt clouded over him, and he paused for a moment to turn around and look in the direction he'd seen Quistis. Why her? He wasn't really sure of that anymore either. Back in Trabia she had been...he searched his mind. She'd been a link to the past. She was what he once had. She was...Seifer cringed. Love. Was that what he'd been about to think? Was she love? Was he in love with her?

Stumbling to a stop, he flopped down onto a bench that faced out to sea. It was such a stark change in contrast to Trabia that for long moments he fought the feeling that he was dreaming. Really, in retrospect, he supposed it should have been obvious that he'd end up in Balamb when he got on that ship. It was a hop and a skip across the water and a huge port town. Of course the ship was going to Balamb. But he hadn't considered it.

Looking out from under his long and knotted hair at the peacefulness around him, Seifer felt a sudden crushing fear. The breath left his body and he struggled to get it back.

It will happen here, too.

He watched a little boy break off from his mother and race across the sand at a group of gulls that were picking at an old sack, sending them screaming into the heavens. Seifer hesitantly imagined for a moment what would happen if he were to loose control again in such a small place as Balamb. A place he loved. Home.

Oh God. His stomach lurched. _I've got to get out of here._

He knew it was there, lurking below the surface. And he knew that it was beyond his control. Seifer shuddered to think that he again would be the one to bring blood and fear to Balamb.

***

Quistis was dreaming. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew it was a dream because she couldn't quite feel the chill of the biting wind that was blowing against her face. She could feel the strength of it, the way it sucked the air out of her lungs and pushed against her chest so she couldn't take another without drowning. But she didn't feel the stinging cold that she knew should have been assaulting her cheeks. But that feel of incongruence was almost fully washed out by an emotional surge that came up to swamp her as she looked down at her small black shoes and stockings.

She was sitting a folding chair, the tinny seat of which was hard and cold against her bottom. Pushing her hands against the seat, she attempted to lift herself slightly off of it and shifted slightly to the side.

"Stop it!" A dark voice intruded on her uncomfort. She turned and looked up into a hostile, bearded face that was staring down at her with raw hazel eyes. There was a vein in his neck that burrowed up into his scruffy hair, wiggling along like a worm underneath his skin. It throbbed perceptibly and turned an unhealthy shade of purple, his muscles bunching all around it. "That woman took you in and loved you! Show some respect!" he yelled scathingly, although none of the other people around seemed to notice.

Admonished, Quistis sat back and folded her hands in her lap like the woman on the other side of her was doing.

In front of her, a man in black paced. He held a large, tattered book in his hand and was reading calmly from it, a sort of halo glowing around him as he marched on through his words. They carried on and above the wind, separating Quistis from her angry father for the moments in which the man was speaking. Taking in only a few key terms (things like "rest" and "tragic"), she looked forward at the rising mountain of wood directly behind the man in black.

She wasn't naive enough not to know what was in it. She wasn't so innocent she didn't know what it meant, and what the man in black was speaking about. She heard the comforting words of peace from him, of moving on and finding wholeness once the world has been ripped away, and of finding a better place, a rest and freedom from life. But she didn't feel any of that. As she looked at the casket, polished so that she could see herself in it around the green strap that was anchoring a group of shuddering, white lilies to the top of it, she felt her father shuddering with his grief and felt hopeless fear tighten around her heart.

Quistis closed her eyes. She still remembered the day she had been adopted, and the comfort that she had found with the bright, blonde woman who had taken her by hand away from the only home she had ever known. Matron had told her that it would be a good home, that she would have a real family and parents who loved her. Matron loved her...but that, she figured, wasn't the same. And as she rode in the car at the side of her new mother, chewing on a large wad of bubblegum that they'd gotten after eating lunch together on the way home, she felt a little of what Matron had meant. This was different. There weren't any other children trying to get her attention...it was all Quistis, and she liked that.

But in the here and now, years later and worlds away from the orphanage, she sat watching the mother she'd discovered being lowered slowly into the ground. Quistis hadn't been permitted to see her body, and so could only imagine the woman inside. And in the days that had passed since her sudden death, Quistis had moved from a feeling of confused and desperate grief into horror and foreboding.

Swallowing, she looked up at her father. His hair was disheveled, his whole appearance raw. The loss had been hard on him. Quistis knew it had because she could hear him crying at night in the next room. And she had been sitting at the table coloring when the phone call had come, and watched when after saying a muted "thank you" and dropping the phone from his ear, he'd growled like a bear and ripped the phone off the wall, throwing it in a fit against the table and causing Quistis' box of crayons to fly across kitchen. Since that moment, he had transformed into a different man. He'd never been loving toward Quistis, and she'd always gotten the impression that he wasn't particularly interested in her, but he'd tolerated her for the sake of his wife. And now that she was gone...

Quistis didn't want to stay with him. She saw the stark hatred in his eyes when he looked at her, but she didn't understand why. She was afraid of him, grieved for her mother, and looked at life without the luster it once had.

Following suit, she stood up with him and walked to the deep, rectangular hole in the ground. He bent down and gripped a clump of dirt in his hand, then dissolving into tears dropped it on top of the coffin and collapsed into a tortured heap, then was led away by the woman who had been sitting on Quistis' other side, leaving her standing beside the yawning void of her mother's grave, alone and afraid.

Jerking away from the feeling, from the horror and the terror, Quistis suddenly awoke and stared bleary eyed at the ceiling for a moment before realizing where she was and putting the whole sequence together as a dream. Laying like a dead weight, she felt the pain still humming deep down inside. She had never told anyone what had happened to her in her adopted home, only hinted that things hadn't gone well, and the secret festered inside of her at night.

Rubbing her face with her hands, she tried to push the feelings away.

She hadn't known until right up before leaving for Garden that her father blamed her for her mother's death. Or that seeing Quistis every day only brought back the painful memories for him. All the verbal abuse, and the hatred he had shown toward her marked their relationship as the most painful of Quistis' short life. She felt no remorse over the fact that her mother had been shot during a store robbery while going out to buy a sick Quistis fever reducers one evening. It was regrettable, tragic, and sad, but not Quistis' fault. But she did feel tremendous regret that she had never been able to earn the love of her father, and that in the end she represented to him every evil in the world.

Rolling over onto her side, Quistis pulled the blankets up around her, remembering the suspicion and the thinly veiled threats.

"You good for nothing, little Bitch!" She hadn't cleaned her room, or made her bed.

The slap that stung against her cheek that made her lip bleed.

"God dammit, how fucking stupid are you?" She fell down, skinned her knee, and got blood on the carpet.

Worthless, stupid...guilty. His accusations echoed in her head as they always had. The ironic driving force behind her excellence, feeding her irrepressible need to make something of herself, but always look back on it and see herself as the useless, dumb little girl who had unwittingly put the gun to her mother's head.

Bothered, she pushed the sheets off and got out of bed. In a daze, she pulled on a pair of blue track pants, shoes, and pulled a jacket on over the white tank top she had worn to bed. Grabbing a black hair-band off her dresser, she grabbed her keycard, shoved it into her jacket pocket, and stepped out of her stifling room into the slightly more airy Balamb Garden hallway. The sound of water filtering through the numerous pools and fountains that existed inside Garden was comforting, and as she walked she practiced deep breathing and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail.

Trying to sleep for the rest of the night, she knew, was a futile task. The same dream had haunted her since childhood, and she'd never been able to recover a night from it. So, as she had become accustomed to doing, she strode purposefully toward the front gate, ready to take a long contemplative walk. Occasionally, she would go to the training center, but she felt too out of wack to take on monsters and wanted to get outside into the fresh air. Her lungs felt like they were about to collapse in on her.

"Good evening, Miss Trepe." The guard at the door smiled at her, and stuck out his hand for her keycard. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

"Not really," she shrugged non-committally, not wanting to talk to him about her personal problems. "Just going for a walk."

He slipped her card through a slot near the gates and waited a moment before it beeped, confirming her authorization to come and go as she pleased.

"Have a nice walk." He handed the card back to her.

The air outside was fresh from late December rain, and with a sense of relief she drank it in. Pulling her jacket tighter around her, and shoving her hands into it's lined pockets, she took off across the street and into the grass that led toward the woods and the beach. The latter was her destination, but there was a draw that the trees held, too. And when she found the well beaten path through them, she ducked into their shadows. Students had been traveling directly through the little crop of trees to get to the beach since Garden had begun, and the path was beaten stiff and bare. It was easy to follow, even at night.

She didn't understand why thinking about her father still bothered her so much. Eventually, she'd come to Garden to escape him, and he'd been more than okay with her sudden career choice. It seemed that he thought she was particularly suited to mercenary work (after all, she already had one hit to her record) and it was somewhat to Quistis' own chagrin that he'd been right. But she had moved on past that, she liked to think, to become a bright and successful woman. She was the lieutenant commander of one of the most powerful forces on the planet. She handled all manner of events in a calm and collected manner. She had her own office, was friendly with a number of world leaders. She'd saved life as mankind knew it.

So why did one man's contempt still keep her up at night?

She hated that the doubt was still there, in all manner of forms.

She didn't usually go out of way to do things like ask guys out or anything that might alter her routine. In the monotony, she found control, and in the loneliness she found the ability to rationalize her status as choice rather than fear. She said nothing to Brett, whom she saw every week and was on friendly terms with, because if he rejected her it would confirm everything her father had said about her, and it would disrupt her control. She'd be lost, and so it was just easier not to have a life.

As she stepped out of the trees and saw the long stretch of gleaming beach stretch out in front of her, her thoughts momentarily derailed and went another, unexpected direction. Bella Cevario would arrive back in Balamb in the morning, where she would then be put under Dr. Kadawaki's care. Quistis had been warned that Bella probably wouldn't be a reliable source of information for at least a few days. With the major surgery on her jaw, and the sudden loss of her partner, Dr. Kadawaki planned to keep Bella from being disturbed as much as possible, which precluded a full fledged inquiry into exactly what had gone wrong.

Her thoughts traveled to Seifer, who it appeared Bella had been in contact with in Trabia. Was he the one who'd broken her jaw? It seemed likely. Quistis couldn't fathom how or why he'd been involved, but didn't doubt that he somehow was. He had a tendency to draw trouble like a magnet. Wherever something untoward was going on, Seifer would inevitably pop up. He'd always been that way.

At least this time, she thought, _he isn't the one killing everyone._

Pain in the neck, Seifer was. But great, furry beast he was not. And despite his unfortunate appearance, she couldn't pin it on him.

Setting herself comfortably on the beach, she stared out to sea and wondered where they were -- the two men in her family who both strived to smother her. There wasn't that much difference between them, really, except maybe that once upon a time Seifer had actually loved her in that odd, big brother method of torment that he had. But surviving his contrived torment, experiencing it together, had been what drew them together as startlingly like-minded children. And if she'd listened to him so long ago, life as she knew it could have been irrevocably changed.

Don't leave, Quisty. Those people don't really want you.


	11. Shadows

A/N: Overly dramatic? Maybe. But aren't people always? I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but I'm following my instincts. They may be good or bad, but they're all I've got. Regardless of Quistis and Seifer, this is the story. The heart of the matter moves without them.

As I walk the room  
there before me her shadow  
From another world  
where no other can follow

Chapter 11: Shadows

Pallas stood among the trees, her nose poised wetly in the air. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the passing scent of the woman who was sitting on the beach in the moonlight, drawing patterns in the sand between her legs. Her scent was wholly unfamiliar and nearly blocked out by the overwhelming, sticky sweetness of the foliage. No matter what she did, Pallas couldn't seem to find a spot where the air wasn't littered with pollen, sea salt, and the sour odor of people in motion. The overwhelming presence of life, proliferating and screaming for attention, was beginning to cut off sections of her brain which had been overdeveloped in the icy terrain she was used to. Tilting her head back down, she licked some collected plant matter from between her toes and turned around three times before settling herself down in the grass.

Thero laid next to her, his dark mass almost invisible in the night. He leaned away from her, his sides heaving as he panted. Pallas' own tongue was hanging out as well, the cool air pleasantly cooling the inside of her mouth and zapping collected heat from her body.

"Who do you suppose she is?" Thero asked.

"They look alike," Pallas tilted her head. "But they don't smell alike."

"He seems interested."

Pallas peered out toward the beach, turning her gaze from the blonde woman to the figure lurking in the shadows of the sea cliffs further down the beach. He stared out of the darkness in her direction, unmoving and riveted. It was impossible for Pallas to tell what he was thinking, but the attention this woman was drawing could only bode well for them.

"Why isn't he doing anything?" Thero asked irritably. "Why is he just sitting there?"

"Maybe he doesn't know her," Pallas offered.

"Well, he's not going to _get _to know her by just sitting there." Thero's tail slashed through the shrubbery behind them.

The two sat for a moment in silence, continuing to observe. Pallas could understand Thero's impatience. The heat on this island was stifling. They had spent the better part of the day going in and out of the water. Their thick winter coats resisted getting wet, and they had to lay for long periods of times in the waves until they had absorbed as much water as possible, gaining great amounts of weight in the process until they could stumble back into the trees like swollen sponges.

"He's not going to do it," Thero complained. "Look. He's laying down."

Indeed, Seifer was settling down for the night in the sand, his tattered coat thrown over his legs and his arms pillowed under his head. The woman had not yet noticed his presence and was getting up, dusting sand off her pants and hands.

"We've got to do something," he insisted. "What if she's the one?"

"Then he'll go to her," Pallas replied, not quite as concerned.

"Well, I'm not going to wait," Thero announced, standing up and shaking so that his coat slid side to side across the muscle underneath his skin. Before Pallas could say anything, he darted out from the trees and across the broad grassy plain between them and the beach. Sighing, she got up to follow him. Time was running out, that she knew. But she also knew this wasn't something they could force. Seifer would have to do something to save himself, they couldn't make the decision for him. If he couldn't reach that point on his own, there wasn't anything they could do. And maybe he couldn't. There had been so many chances already, and in each his darkness had won. She was beginning to think that perhaps Seifer just didn't have the capacity, and possibly that was why Ultimecia had chosen him.

Loping through the grass, she sincerely hoped that wasn't the case.

***

Quistis dusted herself off, rubbing the sand from her palms and her clothing. It was late, and the silence of the world among the waves was beginning to wear on her. She could only ignore the rhythm so long, and then it would begin to hold a feeling of anticipation -- like becoming suddenly aware of your own heartbeat and expectantly waiting for the next thud, helpless to control it but no long able to shut it out. Taking a moment to retie the waste of her pants, which had loosed as she sat, she smoothed her hands over her hair and started back toward the shining lights of Garden. Balamb was a place that was never really dark. The brilliant, buzzing lights of Garden were like a beacon on the horizon, blotting out the stars and reflecting back down off clouds. She'd often wondered what the point was, curious as to why Garden felt so compelled to draw attention to itself when it established it's reputation through secrecy. One would think that the building itself would have made more of an effort to be discreet.

But nothing about Garden was discreet. Not really, anyway. She was discovering that more and more everyday she worked in the administration. Her office was filled with huge filing cabinets of information on every client Garden recently had. There were more archives in the administrative archives where details about everyone Garden had done business with was recorded. There were potential bombs resting in that building, facts that would storm the political world as they knew it. Garden was invested with more power and clout than Quistis had ever imagined. And they were sure to let officials and governments know just what a precarious position they were in. The Garden Archives were infamous.

She snorted. _Maybe that's why they light the place up_, she thought. _We don't have to hide._

Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she gazed up at the forest and caught somewhere in her peripheral vision a darting movement. Turning fast, she sought through the darkness for what had moved, her hand coming to rest on her ever present whip.

The dark sat stagnantly, completely impenetrable.

Blinking and rubbing her eyes, she turned to continue on her way.

She stood up the pathway, unmoving and shimmery in the diffused light from Garden. Quistis froze, staring at something that in all of her travels around the globe she'd never seen. The wolf lowered her head a little and sniffed the ground, then jerked it back up and stared from the halo of her silver coat directly at the motionless Quistis.

Wolves, Quistis knew, were rare. They'd been almost completely wiped out hundreds of years ago, and those that remained were extremely secretive. They had only been seen in Trabia, as far as she knew, and none had certainly been in Balamb for a very long time. The wolf, in fact, seemed just as distantly surprised to see Quistis.

Light glinted light blue off the back of the wolf's eyes as she titled her head and then began to slowly pace, her massive frame shuddering visibly under her silver coat.

"I'd better go around..." Quistis murmured to herself, not quite sure how to handle the encounter but knowing somewhere at the back of her mind that fighting would not be an option. Monsters were different, this was a wolf, and somehow that made all the difference. There was a familiarity there she couldn't find in the awkward, slashing tentacles of a grat or the deranged buzzing of bite bugs. To kill this beast, which had slid out of the shadows as if blessing her with the rare chance to see her, would have been sacrilegious.

Quistis took a slow step to the side and, smiling for some reason, began walking further down the beach. The wolf, for her part, slipped back into the shadows and vanished in a moment, resuming her clandestine life away from the prying eyes of late night strollers. Her heart was hammering in a way that monsters had never inspired. It was a reaction she couldn't quite explain, but wasn't interested in exploring.

As she walked down the beach to the point where she felt it was safe to cross, her eyes made out an odd form resting near the cliffs. At high tide, the water came up to meet them, but when it receded a layer of eroded away sand was exposed. Laying across the white expanse was a dark lump. Concerned, Quistis started toward it. If it was a drunk, passed out student, there was a good chance he or she would drown. It had nearly happened once, the year she was a SeeD candidate, but the boy had been found just as the tide was beginning to creep up on him. It could come in fast and hard, the cliffs were testimony to that, and it would be easy, Quistis imagined, to get swept away if you weren't aware of what was happening.

"Excuse me," she called out, finally making out the form for certain as a man laying there. She kept walking, figuring that this was just her luck. He was probably laying passed out in a pool of his own vomit, which would undoubtedly get all over her clean track suit. Grimacing a little, she called out again, "Are you okay?"

Only a few feet away now, she could tell that he was covered by a long coat, his head hidden under his arms and his face pressed into the sand. Standing uncertainly for a moment, she weighed her options.

You are so getting written up for this.

Sighing, she stepped closer and reached out to poke him, sniffing the air for any unpleasant bodily fluids she might have to contend with once she got him up. Her index and middle finger jabbed him quickly, and the reaction was so instantaneous that she didn't have time to react.

Slammed flat onto her back in the sand, her head spun. It took a few long moments to figure out what had happened and where she was. The man had launched at her and was sitting on top of her, pressing her down into the sand, his hands pressing painfully into her shoulders.

Struggling, the world still spinning form the too quick change of position, she tried to throw him off with a surge of adrenaline. Her muscles quivered, but the sand was absorbing great amounts of her energy. Groaning with the effort, her eyes clenched tightly closed, she thrashed and kicked wildly, eventually throwing her attacker off long enough for her to scramble to her feet and reach for her whip.

He slammed into her again. Pain shot up Quistis' side. His arms wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms there, and his floundering weight pulled her down again into the sand. Spitting the dry, dusty stuff from her mouth, she struggled to pull her hands free and then abruptly, as if thinking of it for the first time, opened her eyes.

"Seifer!" She froze and stared up at him, here eyes wide with shock. He stared down at her, his blonde hair long and hanging down in his eyes. A short beard had grown across the lower portion of his face, obscuring the grimace she knew he was wearing. But the scar arched down the middle of his face, slightly faded as Squall's was, and she stared at it wide eyed for several long moments, not taking a breath.

He just looked at her, his face close to hers.

Seifer...Seifer...

Her mind tried to wrap around it.

Seifer.

"Get off me!" She shifted her weight and thrust her knee up toward the heavens, connecting hard with Seifer's hip bone. He cringed with pain and, for a moment, eased up on his hold. It was enough that Quistis' arms burst free. Her hand was already around her whip, and rolling away from him, she scrambled into a crouching position. Seifer had rolled away from her as well, and as her whip shot through the air it missed by a good foot, snapping crisply in the air before returning to her a little too quickly. The end of the whip hit her forearm, splitting it open with a splash of blood. Shrieking with surprise, she dropped the whip.

"Stop!" He bellowed, coming at her.

Crazily, she leapt at him, tackling him and digging her fingernails into the exposed skin on his arms. He howled underneath her and easily, as if she weighed nothing, pushed her off. She'd never expected to see him again. He was like a bad dream, and with the single-minded determination that her nightmare rush engendered, she rushed at him again. The traitor. The murderer. The bastard. He'd betrayed them all, and she was surprised to see that the years had not eased her anger as she'd thought it had. The complacency with which she had thought of him in absentia boiled over into a rage she didn't really understand, and she lunged at him again.

Lashing out with her fist, she aimed the punch at his face, but he ducked away and she was only hit his rotating shoulder. The force of the blow radiated up her arm and then down her body into the sand. She ran at him, yelling incomprehensible words, but he grabbed her at the last second and spun, throwing her to the ground where she landed on her back with a hard, painful thud.

Panting, he twisted her arms hard behind her back, forcing her onto her stomach, and climbing on top of her. Her shoulders bent painfully backwards, and she let out one strangled cry before he forced her head down into the sand. It filled her mouth, silencing her, and the position he had her in was virtually impossible to fight back from. He was stronger, bigger, and she was suffocating, choking on the sand as his hand tangled in the hair at the back of her head, forcing it down.

"Shut up!" he commanded. "Shut up, Quistis."

Shuddering with defeat, she reluctantly let her body relax underneath him and pushed against the palm of his hand, urging him to let her head up. She knew the rules of the game, and it seemed he did, too. He eased the pressure against her head and she lifted her face to spit out a mouthful of sand. An angry tear slid down her cheek.

"What do you want, Seifer?" she asked, still spitting. "Come back to finish what you started?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked hotly.

"Edea got you let off," she replied, "but we both know the truth. You're a rat-bastard-snake!" She struggled to find words. "You always were good for nothing, and you turned on us all. What am I supposed to do, forgive you?"

Letting his weight off her, Seifer suddenly turned her over so that she was on her back. He looked down at her, the light of the moon haloed behind him. Leaning down, he stared hard at her.

"You think I haven't been punished, Quistis?" he demanded. "You think I haven't been through goddamn _hell _these past few years?"

"Nothing you didn't ask for," she retorted.

His mouth distorted into a sneer, his beard and wild hair making him look like a half-crazed prisoner that had just made his escape. And maybe, Quistis thought, he had.

"Where've you been?" she asked. "Why are you here?" The wound on her arm was just beginning to sting, and the more she became aware of it, the more reticent she became of the fact that she'd gotten her ass kicked. She was getting rusty.

"Why am I here?" He repeated the question, and this time stopped. His expression became pained, and he leaned in closer than Quistis was comfortable with, his nose nearly touching hers. "I'm here..." He struggled to get it out, fumbling for words. "I'm...trying to..." His expression broke. "I don't know."

Seifer collapsed on top of her, his grip on her arms loosening and dropped his head hard onto her shoulder. He shuddered and gathered her close, hugging her tight. Confused, Quistis looked around franticly for someone to come and save her. But the beach was empty except for them. Not even the wolf had been drawn out by the fight. He clutched her tightly to him...too tightly, almost crushing her in his sudden, broken gusto.

"Seifer," she choked. "Stop."

"Quistis..." he breathed. "You're the only one who I thought...I don't know. We were always...something. Weren't we? I've been running. And Hyne, she won't fucking go away."

He rambled on, and Quistis became more and more at a loss for what to say. Something inside of him had obviously snapped, but she had no idea what it could be, or if it was mere happenstance that she was the one lying under him or if for some reason he'd planned it that way.

Pulling her hands free from the pinning pressure of his weight, she reached up and cups his face in her hands, raising it up off her shoulder long enough to see the glimmer of tears disappearing down into his beard. She gasped and, for the first time, took a long look at him. This wasn't the Seifer she remembered. This Seifer was so...defeated. His cheeks were sunken in, and there were dark circles under his eyes. He looked tormented, half crazy, and the floodgates had opened. Pinching his eyes closes, his forehead crinkled with pained lines and he sucked in air. She'd never seen this before, and she didn't know what to do. The anger seeped out from her body, exhausted by the kicking and fighting, and when she looked up at him she saw the brother she had watched over and protected, even though he clearly hadn't needed it, and she saw a little, immature boy who had been smashed by naivety -- ruined by his corrupted sense of self-worth.

"Seifer..." She didn't know what to say, but her heart unexpectedly swelled. It was hard to feel anything but a profound pity for him, and with an odd sense of it being the right thing to do, she wrapped her arms around him and held his body to hers.

"Oh God," he panted against her neck. "I was just hoping that maybe you...that someone would..." He didn't finish, but the thought was clear enough. Repentance often required someone to repent to. Godless and lost, Seifer sunk down against her, for the first time without all the defenses she'd come to know. She looked past his head up at the sky, feeling out of her body and confused. Rubbing his back, she listened as the single most guarded man she had ever know (Squall held nothing on Seifer when it came to erecting defensive blocks) began to bawl.

"You don't understand," he took a ragged breath. "Nobody does. I can't get away from it...I can't control it. It's inside me...this monster."

Seifer, indeed, did have a monster inside. That much Quistis knew.

A cloud moved over the moon, casting them into shadows, as Seifer mumbled incoherently she felt something deep inside of her move. Perhaps it was maternal instincts dusting themselves off and rising to the surface, or a part of her which recognized the same sort of barely contained core of self-hatred and despair that she had once upon a time seen in her father. She forgot about the war, and about Seifer's snide remarks to her in class. She forgot about the gash in her arm, and the bloody scratches on Seifer's. And with a conceding sigh released the wave of turbulent anger that resided in a deep recess of her heart, lodged next to her soul. Surrendered, caught up in Seifer's grief, she held him tightly as the shadows closed in closer around them.

Family. She wouldn't have chosen to claim him, but the fact remained there nonetheless. And a deep, filial love erupted from within her.

She didn't understand it. Didn't think she'd ever understand it. But at that moment, they had no history and no future. Simplistically, instinctually, she pressed her cheek to his.

Slipping through the darkness, unnoticed and breathless, the dark form of a wolf crept away from them, his tail swinging in time with his satisfied gait.


	12. Crossing Over

A/N: For some reason my little dividers are getting cut. Spacing added, and it also was cut. SO, I am going to do someting very unstylish and put a parenthetical time shift in, and it was in italics, but that got cut too for some reason. Bleh...so tacky.

Carry me to my own  
To where I can cross over...  
Close to home, I cannot say  
Close to home, feeling so far away

Chapter 12: Crossing Over

Seifer felt like an ass. Sitting perched on a rock in front of the Fire Cavern, he looked down at his hands on his knees and considered what had happened. He hadn't expected Quistis to show up on the beach in the middle of the night. He'd sat in tucked in the shadows, uncertain whether to approach her or follow his instincts to hide. It had caught him off guard when she'd suddenly started down the beach toward him. Squinting, he looked up at the early morning sky, remembering how he had rolled over in the sand hoping to avoid her gaze. But luck hadn't been with him...or maybe it had. He wasn't sure yet. There was no telling how she would react to him after years apart, and after his betrayal during the war. So, like the animal that he was, he sprung when she trapped him. It was the point of no return at which he knew she wasn't going to turn around and walk away. She was always persistent like that.

The rest, he didn't want to think about. Seifer had never cried in front of anyone before. Not really, anyway. And he still wasn't sure why he'd suddenly broken down. After the years of running, trying to hide from his past and his sins, he was suddenly right back on the Balamb beach with Quistis looking up at him. It was like a dream. And he'd been convinced that she would understand.

But she didn't. At least, not right away. But after the long night of holding her down in the sand, he'd made her understand. Or, he made her believe. For now, that was enough. It was all he needed. After being alone so long, her relished the feeling of being taken care of. He'd been reluctant to let her go come morning, but when she promised him food, his long empty stomach rumbled, and he'd released her with her strict promise to return. Presently, he sat waiting for her, blandly wondering if at any moment an army of SeeDs would come out of Garden after him.

Strictly speaking, Seifer wasn't a fugitive. Through some miracle, he hadn't been indicted with any war crimes. But that didn't mean that he wasn't wanted.

Turning around, he looked back into the Fire Cavern, his mind flashing back to the morning Quistis had accompanied him on one of his many field exams.

"I suppose you know the way?" she'd asked, propping one hand on her hip. "I think you've probably been through here more times than I have."

"No worries, Instructor," he'd grinned, bolstered by his cockiness. "I'll take good care of you." In reality, the Fire Cavern was a particular challenge to Seifer. He tended to rely upon fire magic, and he certainly never carried around many ice spells with him at any given time.

Quistis wasn't phased by his self-assurance. She never was.

And that worried him.

He ran his hand over the beard that was beginning to grow across his chin and looked at the line of trees she would come out of. Among the leaves, a caterchipillar squirmed by, making a grinding sound as it consumed a small bush in it's path, it's numerous ugly little teeth moving in a circular motion over the starchy material. Suddenly, spotting Seifer, it made an irritated squawk and, shocking a crabapple tree in passing for good measure, retreated back into the dark trees. He half expected to hear a loud crack as Quistis came along to whack the overgrown worm out of her path, but silence fell on him and he began to fall into a worried despair.

What if she wasn't coming back?

What if he had to stay locked in the same wretchedness forever?

_ No_. He made up his mind. There had to be something he could do. There had to be some way to redemption. _Quistis._ She had to be it. He could trust her, he could tell her. And she would help him. He couldn't do it on his own, so divorced from the living world he'd become. She was the breath and the blood. And she would bring him back.

He was sure of it. (!Time shift divider that keeps getting cut!)

Quistis handed the lunch lady her SeeD ID card, listening only absent-mindedly as the older woman swiped Quistis' card through a reader and chatted endlessly about her estranged son.

"I've tried to get him to come up here and go to Garden," she shook her head, pausing long enough for the confirmation beep to interrupt her flow of thought. "Lived in Balamb all of his life, I tell you. Rose that boy myself after Alan left me. Always thought he'd go into Garden, make me proud. You know what I mean. Now he's off in Galbadia. Hear from him maybe once a month."

She snapped closed the styrofoam container filled with pancakes, sausage, and scrambled eggs. On top of it, she sat two small cartons of orange juice.

"He's involved in some sort of pyramid scam now," the woman continued, shaking her head.

"Those are pretty dangerous," Quistis agreed. "People see them as a fast track to being rich."

"Hyne forbid he should work," she agreed, handing back Quistis' SeeD card. "Want some napkins and silverware with this?"

"Please."

She laid a wrapped plastic fork and knife with a group of napkins next to the orange juice and smiled. "There you go. Enjoy your breakfast, Miss Trepe."

Gratefully, Quistis gathered the rather large take-out package in her hands and started out of the busy cafeteria. A few of her old students smiled and said hello as they spotted her, but she made it back out into the hallway without incident. She'd never been much of a breakfast person, and her order was certainly unusual, but no one seemed to notice or care.

"Quistis!" Someone called out to her as she started toward the front gate, passing by the infirmary. She turned to see Dr. Kadowaki walking toward her. "I've been paging you all morning. Where have you been?"

"Paging me?" Quistis paused and clutched the styrofoam box to her chest. "I've been out all morning. Sorry. What's up?"

Kadowaki stopped in front of Quistis with her arms crossed over her ample chest. "Bella Cevario."

Quistis groaned. "I'm sorry, I forgot. How is she?"

Dr. Kadowaki motioned for Quistis to follow her. "She's been wanting to talk to you. Her jaw is wired shut, so she can't talk very well, but she's awake and seems very eager to speak to you."

"When did she get here?" Quistis asked. "I sent some SeeD's to interview her."

"They've come and gone," Kadowaki shrugged. "But she asked specifically for you."

Quistis followed Kadowaki into the Infirmary and set her breakfast down on the desk, suddenly aware of her state of dress. She hadn't changed since her late night walk, and she still had sand in her shoes and, she was sure, a little bit under the tighter parts of her bra. Straitening her pants, shirt, and hair quickly, she followed the doctor past a set of curtains and into the private room where Bella was laying propped up in bed, drinking out of a can through a straw.

She looked up, eyes wide, when Quistis walked in.

"Morning, Bella." Quistis smiled. "How are you feeling."

Bella nodded. Her pretty blonde hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and she was sitting in a white and blue hospital smock. A large yellow and green bruise spread across her jaw and up the right side of her face. She looked miserable and exhausted. A pang of regret rang through Quistis when she recalled that Bella's partner had died on the mission. She vaguely remembered signing the release form for Darshan Zinnovy's remains. Or, what was left of them, in any case.

"I'll leave you alone," Kadowaki nodded and pushed past Quistis, who lowered herself into the chair sitting beside the bed.

Quistis scooted her chair a little closer to the bed and leaned forward. "Dr. Kadowaki told me that you wanted to talk to me."

Bella nodded and lowered her strawberry flavored nutrient shake into her lap. Thoughtfully, she looked down for a moment, and then turned back to Quistis. Through her teeth, she muttered, "Seifer."

Quistis was taken back. "Seifer?" Why would Bella want to talk to her about Seifer?

"Thought..." Bella paused and swallowed, "I was you."

"Oh." Quistis leaned back, looking significantly at Bella's shattered jaw. "He did this?"

She nodded.

"Because he thought you were me?"

Bella shook her head, sighing. She looked frustrated, and Quistis wished there were some way she could make it easier.

"Do you want to write it down?" she asked. Bella shrugged, and Quistis dug through the nightstand drawer until she found a pad of paper and a pen. Setting it in her lap, Bella began to eagerly scrawl, very apparently relieved to be getting whatever she had to say off of her chest. When she finally finished, she handed the pad back to Quistis who, with a long apprehensive breath, began to read:

After Darshan died, I followed the monster into the forest and found Seifer. He was badly hurt, so we took him back into town and had a doctor look at him. He thought that I was you, and he kept asking me to forgive him. I don't know what sort of relationship you have or had with him, but I thought you should know.

Quistis scrunched up her nose as she finished. Asking for forgiveness was exactly what he'd done the night before. Why he'd chosen her, she wasn't sure. But, what she found most curious, was that he'd apparently been injured by the monster in question. Chewing at the bottom of her lip, she wondered if he would be able to identify it. As far as she knew, he was the only person who'd survived an encounter with it. Maybe he could help. And if he could, maybe that would be able to bring him back into the Garden fold, or at least set him on a path in the right direction.

Bella had confirmed that he had been in Trabia, and she had no idea how he'd managed to get to Balamb, but she supposed it had something to do with her. Maybe he was thinking along the same lines as she was. She could put him on the case, he could relieve a major thorn in Garden's side, and it was possible that he would be allowed to come back.

Looking up at Bella, she had another thought.

"Why did he hit you?"

She reached over and wrote sideways along the side of the paper, "Tried to stop him from leaving."

"Mmm," Quistis nodded. "Seifer is like a wild animal. If you try to trap him...he feels threatened. Especially by SeeD."

Bella nodded and laid back in bed, looking tired.

"I grew up with him," Quistis informed her, deciding the girl had the right to understand what she'd been inadvertently caught up in. "Squall, Selphie, Irvine, Zell, Seifer and I all lived in the same orphanage when we were little, with Edea, Cid's wife. It's ancient history, you know, but in a way he and Squall have always been brothers to me."

Bella nodded again with a look of understanding.

"I also wanted to tell you," Quistis swallowed. "Darshan's body has been sent back to his parents. They sent me a notice that the funeral is going to be a week from tomorrow. I'm giving you and anyone else who wants it vacation time to go. The headmaster has also given you three weeks of paid vacation. You don't need to stay here. Feel free to use your SeeD pass to take a train home, if you want."

Relaxing a little, Bella forced a semi-smile.

"Thank you for letting me know about Seifer," Quistis reached out and squeezed Bella's hand. "And thank you for being discreet about it." Quistis wouldn't have appreciated all of Garden buzzing about Seifer's pleading for forgiveness from his long-lost sister. His pride was a great but fragile thing, and she knew that everyone being aware of his breakdown would have ruined him. And, it was apparent, he was already having a rough enough time without something else on his back.

Giving Bella a big, buck-up grin, Quistis turned to leave. Bella sunk back down gratefully into bed, her eyes falling quickly closed. She'd had a rough few days, and Quistis couldn't help but wince at the thought of being in the other girl's position. Tentatively reaching toward a scar on her arm, she suffered a momentary flashback to moments when she had been. There was rarely anything pleasant about service, especially the sort SeeD performed. It provided a lifetime of adventure and heroism, but that lifetime was truncated by it's own fullness. The possibility of missing her old age had never particularly bothered Quistis until she ended up sat behind a desk, whiling her days away with balding, middle aged management. They had all worked toward their specific position, seeking out paperwork and answering machines to avoid the nitty gritty that wasn't outlined in red tape. Quistis felt like a strangled outcast among them, and in a frightening way found herself becoming what she had once upon a time despised.

Retrieving Seifer's breakfast from Dr. Kadowaki's desk, she sent the older woman another smile. "Sorry I missed your pages," she apologized.

"Do you have today off?" the doctor asked, looking momentarily away from a wide computer screen full of patient names, medical histories, and billing records.

"Do I ever have a day off?" Quistis rolled her eyes dramatically, then checked her watch and tried to hide her alarm. It was getting late, she was due in her office in less than an hour.

"I know Xu would be willing to fill in for you if you wanted to take a day," Kadowaki suggested blandly.

"Ahh...that's okay," Quistis shrugged. "I like working."

"You look exhausted." Kadowaki had known her far too long.

Pursing her lips, Quistis tossed her hair back. "I'm fine, but I've got to get going or I'm going to be late. Have to run and change and get this eaten before it gets cold."

"Alright," Kadowaki threw up her hands. "Beyond me sometimes why I'm even here when nobody takes my advice."

"Keep me notified on Miss Cevario's condition?" Quistis asked.

"Of course."

Nodding with authority, Quistis left the infirmary and continued on her way out the front gate. She wasn't stopped again and made it outside without incident. It was a long walk to the Fire Cavern where she'd left Seifer sitting and the sun was just beginning to heat up. A bead of sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades, and she had her jacket slung over top of the styrofoam carton when she came upon Seifer.

He looked up sharply when she came into view, his green eyes wide with what she supposed was surprise and just a hint of suspicion.

"You promised me breakfast," he barked, shooting to his feet. He jabbed one long finger accusingly at her. "What did you do? Go to Squall?"

He was stalking menacingly toward her when Quistis pulled her jacket off the top of the breakfast she'd brought him and dropped it to the ground. His face fell when he saw it, and his steps faltered. "Oh..." was all he could muster, his face flushed.

"Awfully suspicious, aren't you?" she asked, cocking her head and shoving the box toward him. One of the cartons of orange juice toppled off with her rough handling and landed with a thud in the grass. _Betrayal isn't as easy for me as it is for you..._ The sharp thought leapt into her head and she had to force herself not to blurt it out. Forgiveness -- she had to remember. No accusations.

Eagerly, he ripped open the box and began to inhale the pancakes. Carefully, with concern for the safety of her fingers, she sat down beside him and reached for one of the sausage links which he'd allowed to roll into the syrup. Dabbing it off with a napkin, she ate slowly, inspecting Seifer for injuries while he was distracted.

He still had the old scar across the bridge of his nose. And he was thin. Under his shirt, she could see ribs protruding and could make out the ridges of his spine. A shadowy beard was in bloom across his face, and his hair was brushing against his collar, curling slightly in the humid air. Distantly, she wondered if he'd used hair gel to slick it back so strait while he'd been at Garden. None of the injuries that Bella had indicated he had were apparent, and the previous night he certainly hadn't appeared to be in any sense lame or weakened.

"What?" he grumbled through a mouthful of egg, his eyes narrowed.

"What? I wasn't doing anything."

"You're staring at me."

She shrugged. "Just noticing how you've changed."

He went back to eating, more slowly this time. After a long pause he cleared his throat. "You haven't."

"Let me guess," Quistis leaned back a little and pulled her shirt strait. "The same haughty instructor with bad leadership who isn't able to keep _any _of her students under control...despite the fact that the major trouble-makers head the discipline committee." She arched an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged.

"You said it, not me." But, as he finished eating and poked a straw into the orange juice, he let one hand stray over onto her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. Quistis was mildly startled by the gesture and looked even more closely at Seifer to be sure he was who she thought.

Something had happened to him. She didn't know what, but she'd never seen him broken before. Years of failure hadn't been able to do it. Loosing a war, his romantic dream, and family hadn't done it. But something had occurred in the years since which had shattered Seifer Almasy. He didn't pack the same punch, and while he hadn't lost his bite, there was a certain amount of zest he no longer infused it with. He looked -- she fought to find the appropriate word -- _old_. Pity welled up in her for the brother she'd known so long ago.

Patting his back, Quistis leaned a little closer to him, preparing herself to take on his burden.

"Listen," she said, "I've got to get to work or I'm going to be late. But I'll call the hotel in Balamb and reserve a room for a special guest of Garden." She reached into her pocket and pulled out her ID card. "They have a special...um...discreet entrance for SeeD in the back. Use my card to get in. Your room will be number 215. It's a suite. Nobody will bother you."

He looked down at her ID card for a long time before bringing his gaze back even with hers. He opened his mouth slowly, but nothing came out, and he finally just nodded.

"Take a bath," she suggested. "I'll come by when I get off."

Seifer looked for a terrifying moment like he was going to cry again, and Quistis stood up quickly, uncomfortable.

"I know," she laughed a little too loudly. "Bossy Quistis. Right. I'll just get going and get that ready..."

Seifer smiled a little, infused with just a little more life than he'd had before.


	13. Oceans of Night

A/N: I have to apologize for how long it took me to get this chapter done. School has been keeping me pretty busy, and I actually put off a whole afternoon's worth of homework to finish this chapter. Hopefully the rest of the story will get done much more quickly. I also apologize if there are a few inconsistencies in this chapter. I don't think that there are, but I had to go back and rewrite a few parts of it to make some things work, so hopefully I caught everything from the first version that doesn't work with this one.

Forever searching, never right  
I am lost in oceans of night

Chapter 13: Oceans of Night

Seifer sat enveloped in hot, swirling water up to his chin. He'd gotten into the hotel with no problem. Quistis had apparently kept her word and called ahead. He'd been unsure as he used her ID card in door lock, but without pause the light flashed green and the door locks slid out of place, letting him into the large SeeD suite. He sat in the living room area now, his feet sticking out of the jacuzzi and dripping water onto the carpet as he sunk down to let a jet pound between his shoulder blades. Watching the water swirl over his body, he let out a long breath.

The hotel suite was more accommodating than any lodgings he'd had for a long time. A large king sized bed sat in it's own room, with a TV propped on a dresser at the foot, and three fluffy pillows perched at the top barely covered by the comforter. Another TV was in the living room area, along with a couch, desk, coffee table, and a kitchenette cozied into the opposite corner near the door. Still feeling a little uncomfortable with the niceness of it all, Seifer had strewn some towels about and thrown his clothes in the living room before deciding to take the bath that Quistis had suggested.

Only better.

He'd found a little bottle of sweet smelling bubble bath in the bathroom and had considered adding it into the tumbling mix of the hot tub. At length, he'd decided against it, not wanting to smell quite so fragrant and in fear of being overwhelmed by the rising tide of bubbles it would produce.

He knew she'd help. It was just the way she was. Always had her hands in everything, couldn't keep her nose out of other people's business. And her thriving for a sense of control made her more than willing to take charge of any situation she felt was not being handled up to her standards. And that was Seifer...sub-standard screw up desperately in need of someone to point him in the right direction. He was beginning to realize what had a hold of him was something he couldn't escape on his own, because he'd already accepted it. He'd welcomed it inside, and the vestigial remnants of that decision had hollowed out a place for the beast inside.

Pulling his hands up out of the water, he looked at them closely. They were average hands. Fingers a little longer perhaps than was strictly manly, but good, strong, blunt tips. Palms only slightly calloused from years of wearing gloves, criss crossed with long but faint lines. He wondered which one was supposed to be his life line, and then ascribed it to one just under his fingers for it's relative shortness.

He'd never expected to live a long, full life. Even when he was little, he didn't remember feeling much hope for what the future promised him. Meaning, for him, had never existed in the course but in it's destination. Death would render him purposeful. For a while, he thought he'd known what that purpose was.

Leaning his head back, he remembered the movie. It was still vivid in his mind...the knight dressed head to toe in shining armor and the delicate sorceress trapped by the lumbering red dragon. And then it had flashed across the screen and into his life. The gun blade...Hyperion. And since that moment, he knew it was meant for him. To live, to fight, and to die for his sorceress.

He frowned.

He had no sorceress any longer. Or anyone, for that matter, who he could defend and die for. With a snort, he thought of Rinoa. It was Squall who'd gotten the dream, along with everything else.

A small grumble rose up in his chest like something dislodging deep inside of him.

Whimpering softly, he let his head drop below the surface of the water. Turbulence surrounded him, a roar in his ears to match that issuing from deep in his heart.

It was too soon, too inopportune a moment. But like a wave of nausea, he felt it roll over him.

What would Quistis think? Would she still forgive him?

Surfacing and gasping as black spots began to swim before his eyes, he hoped she'd still understand. Glancing toward the door, he willed her to come through it. To rush to the rescue. To ease away the terror, exorcise the demons.

* * *

Quistis hung up the phone and scribbled a note to herself in a tired, loopy scrawl. Leaning back in her chair, she rubbed her lower back and finished off the last of her coffee, grimacing as it slid coldly down her throat. She stuck her tongue out and made an unpleasant sound before getting up to clean it out in the lounge. Outside, the sun had already set and her desk lamp glowed yellow in the darkened confines of her office. After straitening everything on her desk, she was just reaching to open the drawer and pull out her last bit of paperwork when the phone rang with a sudden, jarring blare.

Jumping half out of her skin, Quistis lunged at it without thinking and picked it up. "Hello?" She winced..._Balamb Garden, this is Quistis Trepe, how may I help you?_ She considered giving the official greeting for a fraction of a second to cover her blunder before the man on the other end spoke up.

"Quistis?"

"This is her."

There was a short sigh of relief. "This is Harold, from down in Balamb."

"Oh, Harold." She lowered herself into her chair. "What's up?" Balamb Garden was the official police agent in the city of Balamb, and Harold acted as one of their strange sort of dispatchers, reporting all of the bigger crimes up to higher authority. _Another robbery?_ Quistis wondered. They'd finally caught the man responsible for a string of robberies in the town over a month ago, and she sincerely hoped that he wasn't calling to inform her they'd begun anew.

"Murder," Harold reported dryly, much to Quistis' relief.

"Where?" she asked.

"On the beach, just outside the hotel," he sighed. "I know it's late, but we would really appreciate it if you would send someone down to take care of this tonight."

The hotel? It would make a valid reason for her to go there. She cleared her throat. "Actually, I was going to come into town tonight on other business. I'll send some people ahead of me and then take the report."

"Thanks a lot. Have a nice evening."  
  
Returning his sentiments, Quistis hung up the phone. There hadn't been a murder in Balamb in years. Trouble certainly seemed to live on Seifer's heels. Of course, this could hardly be blamed upon him. She'd fill out a quick report before going up to see him, using the disappearance as an excuse to survey the hotel as she went up to his room. It was good timing, really. Quistis crinkled her nose a little, realizing how impersonal death had become to her. Picking up the phone again, she dialed a four number extension and waited.  
  
"This is Dr. Kadowaki."  
  
"Hi, this is Quistis. I have a big favor to ask of you, Doctor."  
  
"Sure. What is it?" The older woman was always willing to help Quistis out of a jam.  
  
"I just got a call from Harold in Balamb, and apparently someone was killed outside the hotel," Quistis informed her. "They want the body out of there before morning, and everyone who could handle it is off duty right now. Would you be willing to go down there and process the scene?"  
  
"It's not really my specialty," she pointed out. "But I'll do my best."  
  
"Thanks a lot, I really appreciate it," Quistis sighed with relief. "Just try and get the body out of there, I'll be down shortly to block off the scene and file a report."  
  
She hung up the phone feeling as if the situation had been handled. Pulling out some paperwork from one of her desk drawers, she began on the last bit of filing for the night. There was an incredible amount of red-tape involved in Garden's bureaucracy, and it was deeply dark out before she finished and sat back in her chair. Cracking her back, she stretched and groaned and reached out to flick off her desk lamp.

Leaving her office, she stopped at a desk with a small machine that had a slot and numbered buttons. Pulling open a drawer, she pulled out a plastic card and punched the keys for a moment before sliding the card through. It beeped in confirmation, and she slid it through one more time as it checked over the work it had done the first time. Quietly slipping the card into her pocket, she went down to her room.

Wishing she could take her uniform off, she instead straitened her hair and started toward the garage to get a car. There weren't many available, but she managed to get one with a mostly full tank without much trouble, authorizing it on her new ID which she'd given a wide blanket of powers to. There were certainly perks to being close to the top.

The car's lights flashed down the hollow looking passage way and out across the road and grass as she shifted into gear and drove slowly (responsibly) out into the night.

Distantly, she wondered what Seifer was up to. If he was behaving himself. She supposed that after spending time in Trabia, he was simply enjoying the many amenities of civilization. Perhaps a long, hot shower with plenty of foamy shampoo and soap, followed by a large cup of steamy coffee and a relaxing evening in front of the television. She had a flash of him painting his toenails before she reluctantly admitted the fantasy was more hers than Seifer's. More likely he was pacing the room waiting for her to get there, wondering if he'd been betrayed but cocky in the way only Seifer could be that she could never do that to _him_.

The drive was boring and uneventful, and Balamb was quiet and nearly barren when she pulled to a stop in front of the hotel. The salty sea breeze ruffled through the stray bits of hair that had escaped from her ponytail, and the happy cobalt blue hotel stood illuminated by a set of lights strung around its exterior.

She parked in front of the hotel and spent a few moments sitting in the car, reluctant to get out and attend to her duties. Dr. Kadowaki had left hours before hand, and she hoped that she had things under control so that Quistis could get on with her business. At last, she finally stepped out into the night and walked around, among the bushes, to the other side of the hotel where a blaze of lights and people were bustling about. A number of young men and women in SeeD uniform were helping the doctor, who stood in the middle of the melee barking out her orders. She was still in her hospital garb: a plain purple dress, nude nylons, white coat, and chunky white shoes. She looked almost out of place, like a little grandmother, in the middle of a murder scene.

When she noticed Quistis, she broke off from the group and waved.

"How's it going?" Quistis asked, peering over her shoulder at the body which was already enclosed in a yellow body bag.

"I called in some of my med-students," Kadowaki replied. "Good practice for them, to handle the body and the autopsy. I'll oversee, of course, but they've been doing a wonderful job so far."

"This going to be cleaned up by morning?" she asked, searching her mind for possible members of a second team she could send in.

"I think so," Kadowaki nodded. "The autopsy won't be in until late tomorrow, but I think I can venture a guess right now as to what killed him."

"You can?" Quistis was surprised.

"Animal," she shrugged. "I mean, it's obviously an animal attack, not a murder. The guy was torn to ribbons. Whatever it was, isn't something that I've seen before."  
  
Kadowaki's word's made something at the back of Quistis's mind tingle. "An animal?" she murmured.

"With your permission," Kadowaki continued. "I would like to request the Esthar PD's file on the animal killings that have been happening in Trabia."

"You think this is related?"

"I've seen injuries from every kind of creature on this entire island, and I've never seen anything like this. It's definitely something foreign, and with all the ships we regularly get in port from Trabia, I think there's a very good chance this may be the work of the same animal."

Quistis frowned and thought for a moment. "I saw a wolf the other night when I was out walking."

"There haven't been wolves in Balamb for hundreds of years," Kadowaki replied. "I've heard that there are still some in Trabia. It's possible that this could have been done by a wolf, but it would have had to of been quite a large wolf."

"Oh, this was a monstrous wolf," Quistis assured her. "Definitely ask the EPD for their files." She glanced around. "I'm going to take a look around the hotel for...tracks and things. Unless you need me here. You seem to have things under control."

"I think we'll be fine. I'll send you a report as soon as I have one."

Quistis gratefully left, her mind prickling. Trabia's problem had suddenly become Balamb's, and the fight which had been so divorced from her was now on her front step. Perhaps it had been a mistake to tell Bella she could have time off. She was the only one with experience in this case. Regretting that she would have to break the news to her when she got back to Garden, Quistis slowed her pace and walked through the front door of the hotel and her mind began to work over the possibility that perhaps Bella wasn't the only one who could handle the case. Not when another well equipped man had just recently arrived from Trabia.

Quistis sent the receptionist a dazzling smile and grabbed a mint from a small glass jar on her way toward the stairs, which she quickly unwrapped and popped into her mouth to rid throat of the aftertaste of a long day of bad coffee. The Balamb hotel was very nice for the small town atmosphere it existed in. But Balamb was somewhat of a resort town. A booming fishing industry, the income provided by the constant comings and goings of Garden, and tourism provided most of the town's considerable income. It was a pleasant, safe place to live and visit, and people seemed to flock to Balamb come vacation time. On her way up the stairs, Quistis dodged a little girl who went careening down the steps, followed shortly behind by a bedraggled looking mother who cast Quistis an almost apologetic glance.

Seifer's room was on the third floor, the only major suite on that floor. Trudging tiredly up the steps, she finally emerged on the third floor landing and started down the hallway, her ID clutched in her hand. Seifer's door was closed and quiet when she approached, and purely out of consideration she knocked once before sliding her ID into the slot.

The room yawned open before her, a hot, dark cavern.

As she stepped inside, closing the door softly behind her, a damp and heated scent overtook her senses. Her skin tingled strangely, the hair on her arms standing up on end. It was a musty sort of smell, like horse lather only slightly less pungent. Groping along the wall, she reached for the light switch. She found it only a few inches in from the door, and as her hand brushed by it, the light over her head flash suddenly on, throwing the room into stark, yellow relief. She had to blink once or twice before she could start taking in her surroundings.

The carpet was a deep, wine red color. She stood in the doorway, a kitchenette to her right that hadn't been touched. In front of her, the living room area opened up. Curiously, she walked past a table with a phone and room service menu and into the living room. Seifer was nowhere to be seen, but towels were strewn across the floor in random disarray. The hot tub sat stagnant and full. Pausing beside it, she reached down and dipped her fingers into the water. It was cold, and so had obviously been sitting full for quite some time. Wondering why Seifer hadn't emptied it after he was done, she walked toward the last doorway and dried her fingers off on her skirt.

In the silence of the room, her footfalls seemed to echo loudly, and she found it hard to believe that Seifer wasn't aware that she was there yet. Or maybe he was. She hesitated, not trusting him. Was this some sort of trap? She wouldn't put it past him. How could she really be sure of how much he'd changed? He was, after all, Seifer Almasy. But the image of him from that morning came back to her mind, his pathetic form flashing across her vision. No. He was in no position to try and take advantage of her gullibility.

The bedroom was dimly illuminated by the light Quistis had turned on on her way in. The bed sheets were crumpled, the bed spread thrown to the floor, and Seifer was laying in the middle of it. The sheets were wrapped around his legs and waste. His chest, bare and heaving, protruded out from them and his arms were thrown out to either side. The smell that she'd become aware of on coming in hit her again, and she realized that it was coming from him. It wasn't quite an unpleasant scent in so much as it carried the disturbing olfactory message of an overheated, overrun body.

"Seifer." She seated herself on the side of the bed and reached out to wake him up. His skin was scathingly hot under her touch and surprisingly dry. She'd half expected him to be clammy, but instead he felt parched and baked. "Seifer," she repeated, jostling him.

He groaned and turned his head toward her, but in the dark she couldn't tell if he was looking at her or not.

"Hyne, you're burning up," she breathed, sweeping her other hand across his forehead. "Come on, get up."

"Quistis?" he murmured. Seemingly with great effort, he rolled toward her. It evidently took more energy than he had, because he sunk against her once he got onto his side and his upper half flopped down wrong-side-up.

"Good lord," she put an arm around his torso and gathered him up. His fingers worked feebly against her back as she heaved him up into a sitting position. Drunkenly, his head lolled back and his mouth fell open. "You've got to help me out a bit here," she informed him, maintaining a firm hold upon her sense of calm.

Grunting, she managed to get him out of bed. He helped where he could, but he was extremely weak and not quite lucid. Eventually, she managed to get him into the living room where she urged him into the cool tub of water he left sitting. He quivered and twitched when it touched his skin, but as she finally got his entire body submerged he began to relax and sunk down until only his head poked up above the water.

Keeping a close eye on him, she fetched a plastic cup from the bathroom and, after ripping the wrapping off, filled it with cold water in the sink. Dropping to her knees beside the hot tub, she coaxed Seifer to drink some and noted that his temperature already seemed to be dropping. In the light, she could see a rosy flush across his skin that was slowly beginning to recede back within his body. As his blood dropped back, his consciousness came forth, and she soon found his green eyes staring across the water at her.

"You're sick," she announced needlessly.

"Mmm." He nodded a little.

"Why didn't you say anything to me about it?" she asked. "Garden wouldn't refuse you medical help. I'm going to go get Dr. Kadowaki."

He frowned. "Don't do that."

"Why not?" she demanded. "You're running a high fever, Seifer. When I got here you were hardly conscious. That's dangerous."

"I'm not running a fever," he grunted, sitting forward now. Indeed, his temperature seemed to have dropped considerably. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You just admitted that you're sick," she pointed out. "And now you want me to believe that you're fine?"

"No," he sighed, sinking low in the water. "But Dr. Kadowaki can't do anything to help me. And I'm not going to see her."

"Hyne," she rolled her eyes. "You're so stubborn." For the moment at least, she decided to give up on trying to convince him to seek medical attention. She knew he wasn't about to change his mind, and whatever was wrong had passed. She fetched him a towel from the bathroom and held it as he got wearily out of the hot tub. He shivered a little as the air hit his skin, sending gooseflesh up his arms and across his chest. His boxers were plastered to his body, looking heavy and uncomfortable. He snatched the towel away from her and, wrapping it around himself, disappeared into the bedroom. He reemerged after only a few seconds, the towel secured tightly around his waste.

"I'm starving," he announced, flopping down on the couch.

"Order room service," she shrugged. "It's on Garden."

"Is it?" he arched an eyebrow.

"Garden foots the bill for all charges to this suite," Quistis shrugged. "That way foreign guests don't have to deal with any money, it all goes automatically to Garden."

Seifer ripped open the room service menu, and Quistis seated herself next to him as he picked up the phone and proceeded to order what amounted to an entire meal and then some. His stomach growled loudly as he hung up the phone, and his leg twitched with impatience as he waited for his food to arrive.

"How long did they say it was going to be?" she asked blandly, tossing around what she really wanted to ask him in the back of her head.

"About fifteen minutes," he replied with a long sigh. "But it better be ten, or I'm going to be dead before they get here."

Lost in her thoughts, Quistis was a little divorced from the oddity of the situation, having walked in to find Seifer asleep and burning up only to moments later be perfectly healthy and rumbling with the fully fledged appetite of an adult grizzly bear. He sat back and fiddled with the end of his towel, seeming to be uncomfortable for the first time since Quistis had entered.

"Thanks for everything," he murmured. "The room, throwing me in the bath, not killing me..."

"Well...I've got another thing that just came my way you might be interested in," she admitted, turning to face him. His face betrayed only hints of interest, but his attention was riveted on her. "When you were in Timber, did you hear anything about a string of deaths that were connected with some sort of animal?"

Seifer nodded a little, his features blanching.

"We sent some SeeD's to investigate them. You met one of them, Bella Cevario," she plowed on. "They weren't very successful, her partner died and she came back with a broken jaw." She carefully decided to omit that she knew he was the one who broke Bella's jaw. "Tonight I got a call about a murder here in Balamb, and it's strikingly similar to the ones in Trabia. Bella can't do very much at the moment, but you were in Trabia when the last killings happened there."

She watched him closely as she spoke and could see his heart hammering as a vein in his neck pulsed hotly. He looked positively terrified, and Quistis felt a sudden rush of certainty.

"You saw it, didn't you, Seifer?" She leaned close. "You know what sort of monster this is."

He said nothing, but she knew that she was right.

"I want you to help hunt this thing down. Making this kind of capture will be the perfect thing to get you back into Garden's good graces." She reached out and took his hand, which laid hotly in her own. "You're in a better position than anyone to bring this thing in, and Garden will owe you a huge debt of gratitude for it. I'll suggest that they readmit you."

Seifer swallowed deeply and stared at her, his green eyes wide, and then with an almost imperceptible motion nodded. She smiled brightly at him, convinced she had found the prefect path to his redemption. This monster was the key to Seifer overcoming his past, she knew it.


	14. Memories

A/N: It lives!

_Forever hoping I can find memories  
Those memories I left behind_

Chapter 14: Memories

Seifer dreamt that he was back in Centra, standing in the field behind Matron's house and looking up at the sky as a haze of red and blue clouds consumed the horizon. He sat down in the grass and flowers, letting them rise up about him and wall him in. The heavy stocks seemed to grow thicker and bigger, and Seifer dissolved into a frightened, insecure little boy. He crouched down, his heart buzzing with fear that he would be discovered. The long grasses would protect and hide him (they had already solidified into a hard shell) if he only sunk down low enough in them. He curled into a ball, flattened himself as much as possible, and prayed to a god he couldn't name.

He woke from the dream feeling disturbed, his whole body clammy and hot. He'd had the dream since he was little, and it came back to haunt him at the strangest times. At least, he reflected, he hadn't dreamt about Ultimecia.

A day had gone by since Quistis had asked him to help her find the monster. He rolled over and looked at the clock. She would be there to pick him up in two hours, and then they would start their investigation. She had taken time off of work to help him, not normally allowed out in the field since she had taken a management job. But apparently, in very Quistis-like fashion, she had never taken a sick day since she started in the position and had saved a significant number of them up. Seifer couldn't quite figure out why she was giving them up for him, and in truth he preferred not to question her motives lest doubt and uncertainty rear it's head in his heart. So, he allowed himself to believe that he was redeemable and that Quistis could see the kernel of good within him, even if he could not.

Still, he wondered how she would react when she discovered the truth. Would she turn her back on him when she discovered what he really was? When she learned the true nature of his demons? Would she treat him like the monster he was?

Seifer pushed off the covers and without thinking through the motions got into the shower.

He had never been a good person, that much was obvious. Even as a little boy, he'd been a thin shell over an explosive core. Yet there had always been another small glow inside that he struggled to ignore and to hide. It was an injury, one with a particularly long life. It seeped, and it festered, and he ignored it. He shut it in, hid it from view, and over time even forgot about it. It was that tiny spot, which even Seifer didn't acknowledge existed, that Ultimecia had used to curse him. She saw it for the weakness that it was: the long forgotten, aged chink in the ramparts of Seifer's soul. And it was there that the beast loomed, sewn in the fertile soil of his pain and insecurity. And from there it grew.

He could feel it now with more force than ever before. For long years it had been easy for him to ignore. But now the beast was a constant presence, a duality which slumbered beneath the surface. It was betrayal, the worst of all sins which resided in the deepest depths of hell.

Seifer dressed and he was sitting on the couch flipping through channels on TV when Quistis arrived, fifteen minutes early.

"Good morning," she smiled, offering him a bright and encouraging smile. "Are you ready to go? I rented us a Garden car."

"Why? Where are we going?" he asked.

"Investigating," she replied simply.

He wondered where she was planning to begin and what she already knew. He was keenly aware of the fact that Bella Cevario was recovering in Garden. Her broken jaw had probably made things difficult, but it wouldn't keep her from communicating. Injuries were treated lightly by Garden staff. The idea was desensitization: to keep cadets calm when they or others were hurt in the field and to encourage them to work through pain rather than become derailed by it. Darshan's death would give him extra time to figure out what he was going to do, but it didn't take Bella or what had happened in Trabia out of the picture.

Quistis picked up his shoes and dropped them into his lap. "Come on. Hurry up."

"I don't know what you think we're going to accomplish by doing this," Seifer grunted.

"Favors, Seifer. You scratch Garden's back and they'll scratch yours."

As Seifer put on his shoes and searched his room for his key card, Quistis left and raided the continental breakfast table for the morning's fuel. By the time Seifer got out to the school bus yellow Garden car, she was halfway through a Styrofoam cup of orange juice and a chocolate éclair. Waiting for him on the passenger seat was a similar breakfast but with coffee and a maple bar.

"So," he said as he got in and started on his breakfast, "where are we starting?"

"The harbor," she replied, turning the key and starting the car.

"What's in the harbor?"

"Boats, of course." The sides of Quistis' mouth twitched with humor. Seifer couldn't help but feel patronized. At the same time, alarm bells began to go off in his head. He'd come on a boat to Balamb. But...everyone came by boat to Balamb, and unless she thought the monster could fly it made sense for Quistis to begin her investigation there.

Seifer occupied himself with finishing his doughnut and coffee as they traveled the short distance from the hotel to the harbor. At this time of morning, the docks were buzzing with activity and the seagulls were making pests of themselves, swooping low over the ships and bouncing along the pavement after people. All of the ships looked basically the same, so Seifer wasn't sure if the one he'd come to town on was still there.

"Before we do this," Quistis said, stopping the car, "you were in Trabia when the attacks there happened. Is there anything you can tell me about them? About the monster?"

She was holding the car keys in her lap and giving him a hopeful look.

":No," he said. "I don't know anything about it. The last people I'd have wanted to be around in Trabia were SeeDs. I avoided them."

"Okay. Right." They got out of the car, stepping into the salty sea breeze, and Seifer heard the doors auto-lock behind him as they walked together toward the docks. The strategy, he quickly realized, was to go from boat to boat and try to catch all of them before they left for the day. Quistis had a small, yellow note pad on which she wrote the name of the first ship they approached, _Lucky Star_.

"Whoa! Hold on there. Where do you two think you're going?"

One of the sailors stopped them and pushed back his baseball cap to get a better look. Quistis wasn't in uniform since she wasn't on official Garden business. Instead, she was wearing a navy blue skirt, pumps, and a black turtleneck sweater which was partially obscured by a dark blue, felt jacket with light pink embroidery. She certainly didn't look like she belonged on a ship.

"We're with Garden," she replied, pulling her ID out of her jacket pocket. "We'd like to have a word with your captain."

"I am the captain." The man crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. "What can I do for you?"

"Has your ship been to Trabia lately? Or Esthar?" she asked.

"No. We strictly move between Dollet and here."

"And have you seen anything strange around the docks in the past week?"

"Strange? Strange how?"

"Any suspicious person or unusual animal."

The captain glanced over Quistis' shoulder at Seifer and then shook his head. "If you're looking for ships out of Trabia, you may want to check with the harbor master. Sees pretty much all the coming and going around here. Any regular ships or...unusual occurrences...he'd know."

"And what's his name?"

"Finn Dincht. Should be in by now. Might be able to catch him before all the ships head out."

"Dincht?" Quistis pushed her hands into her pockets. "Any relation to the Dinchts in town?"

He shrugged. "Dunno."

"Well...thanks. You've been a lot of help."

The _Lucky Star_ captain went back about his business, and Quistis spun around to face Seifer.

"Finn Dincht," she breathed. "What do you suppose are the chances? What do you think? Brother...cousin...illegitimate son?" She smiled, but Seifer wasn't feeling light and happy.

"Doesn't breed a whole lot of confidence that the guy's related to Chicken Wuss," he replied.

Dodging sailors and seagulls the whole way, they slowly made their way to the ramshackle building at the other end of the docks. A large sign at the front of the building read "Harbor Master" but the white painted letters were beginning to chip off. A few more stormy seasons and it would be illegible. The condition of the building should have been some indication of the man inside, but Seifer was still surprised when Quistis' knock was answered by a withered old man with too short pants, cloudy eyes, and spit in the corners of his mouth.

"Oh...morning." The old man shifted his weight to his left foot, leaning slightly against the door jam. He looked unpleasantly surprised, his gaze hovering disconcertingly on Seifer.

"Are you Finn?" Quistis asked.

"That's me."

"Finn _Dincht_?"

"That's right."

Quistis pushed a strand of hair out of her face and smiled. "I have a friend with the same last name: Zell Dincht. Are you related?"

"Mmm," Finn smiled back. "Zell's my grandson. And you must be...hrm...Quistis?" She grinned. "And...Seifer."

"We are," Quistis nodded. "I had no idea Zell had a grandfather. We...neither of us have much of a family. I guess I never really thought to ask Zell about his."

"It's nice to meet some of Zell's friends," he looked straight on at Seifer again. "But I'm a little busy this morning. Think you can come back in a few hours?"

"Actually, we're here on business. An investigation. Mind if we ask you a few questions?" Quistis was still smiling at the old man. Seifer didn't see why. There was nothing special about this guy. In fact, he was kind of disgusting. He didn't envy Zell having a family, or having any relation to this feeble excuse for a human being. He hoped he never lived to such an unpleasant age. What good did it to anyone to have a grandpa anyway?

"I guess." Finn stepped out of the way and motioned them inside. The two room office had a nice breeze blowing through the windows but still managed to feel stuffy and dank. Although Quistis immediately set about looking at a ship in a bottle on Finn's desk, Seifer was becoming steadily more uncomfortable.

"Did you build this yourself?" Quistis asked as he followed them in and sat down behind the desk.

"Eons ago," Finn smiled at her. "What is it that you need from me?"

"We're looking for a list of ships that travel between Trabia and Balamb," Quistis replied. "We'd like to interview their crews."

"Hmm...Trabia, you say? Not a lot of ships that go there. Few timber haulers, one passenger, and a couple freight I think." Finn began flipping through a rolodex on his desk. "The _Wild Chocobo_ goes back and forth pretty frequently but they haven't been here for about a week. Due in tomorrow or the next day perhaps."

"We'd appreciate any help you could give us in narrowing down our search," Quistis said, sitting down. Seifer stood behind her.

"I'd say," he said, "that the ship you're looking for is probably the _Albatross_. Freighter. Came in only a few days ago and is still loading for the trip back. Had a bit of an incident while coming into the harbor."

"An incident?"

"Seems they had wolves on board with them," Finn nodded. "Down in the cargo hold. One of the sailors came on them sleeping among the crates, woke 'em up. They weren't too happy."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"Don't think so. Wolves both jumped overboard and swam ashore, they said." Finn shook his head. "Wish I'd been there to see it. Haven't been wolves in these parts in a long time. Not even many of them left in Trabia now."

Seifer felt a sudden wave of nausea and began to sweat under his clothes. His skin prickled and images of the two wolves which haunted his memories flashed across his mind's eye. The feelings that overran him were mixed: revulsion and anger on one hand, a sense of intense relief on the other. They were his shadow, always present and with him. It was more than he could say for a lot of things in his life. But they always came with the transformation. And in this little cottage on the harbor, trapped in a small room with Quistis and Zell's grandfather, he couldn't allow the transformation to take place.

He swallowed hard. Closed his eyes and settled his body. He wouldn't let it over-take him now. Not _now_.

When he opened his eyes Finn was staring at him and Quistis had turned around in her chair. He looked down at them.

"You alright?" Finn asked. "You look a little puny."

"I'm fine."

"Here," he leaned over in his chair and filled a small Dixie cup from the water cooler. "Have a drink."

Reluctantly, Seifer accepted the water. It was deliciously cool and refreshing. He nearly finished the cup in one swallow.

"Captain of the _Albatross_ is a man named Buck Henry," Finn said to Quistis. "They're still in the harbor if you want to talk to them. Aren't scheduled to depart again until tomorrow."

"I think we will." Quistis moved to get up but stopped and sank back down into her chair. Seifer could see her mind working. His heartbeat was audible in his ears as he wondered what conclusions she was coming to. Did she already know it was him? Was she as revolted as he was?

"Anything else?" Finn asked, noticing her hesitation.

Quistis blushed a little. "I just...wanted to ask. Are you and Zell close? Do you see each other often?"

"As often as we can, I suppose," Finn shrugged. "Being a SeeD and all, he's not around that often. When he was little we used to fish and boat together a lot. We'd row out to the sandbar in low tide and collect shells and crab. Haven't done that for a while now though. My...uh...my joints aren't quite what they used to be."

"He's lucky to have you," Quistis nodded. "Thanks for your help."

Seifer nearly knocked the door off its hinges in his haste to escape. Once outside he felt a little better and drug in heavy mouthfuls of fresh air.

Quistis came up behind him.

"Are you alright?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sick?"

Seifer couldn't help but laugh. "I guess I am."

She frowned. "The other night...you were so hot. And now. You broke into a cold sweat in there. You looked like you were about to throw up."

"I'm fine now," he insisted.

She arched an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "If you say so. But I really think if you don't start to get better soon that you should see someone about it."

"See who? Walk into Garden and ask Dr. Kadowaki? I'd probably be arrested."

She didn't respond. Instead, she shaded her eyes and looked out over the harbor.

"Interesting story about the _Albatross_," she said. "The thing about the wolves. What do you think?"

"I think they were at sea too long," Seifer replied. "There aren't any wolves in Balamb. Or Trabia."

Quistis shook her head. "No. I saw one."

Seifer's stomach vaulted within him. "_Saw_ one?"

"You remember the night I found you on the beach?" she asked. "I was walking up from the beach back toward Garden when this big, silver wolf came out of the trees in front of me. I'd never seen one before. I wasn't sure what to do. And it was so..._big_ and...I don't know. I went around it. That's why I went further down the beach and found you."

Confused, Seifer stared at her. She'd seen one of his wolves? Actually seen one? He'd always half thought that they were just another part of the transformation, a frenzied creation of a strained mind.

But he'd seen them too.

_Had_ he? He wasn't sure why he'd suddenly thought that. He didn't clearly remember them, but he knew them. And he knew they were real. That was clear now.

He was looking at Quistis but not seeing her as his brain ran through all his vague memories of the wolves and tried to piece them together. They were definitely connected to the transformation. They'd only appeared after the war, only after the first time it had happened to him. And they were there every time, he thought. Always appearing between the trees, around corners, and out of shadows before the creature seized him. At first they had been omens. Now, suddenly, they seemed like agents.

Were they the reason all of this was happening?

Quistis had seen one. They were definitely following him. It couldn't be a coincidence that they appeared every time he changed. Maybe they were making it happen. Maybe _they_ were the monster.

Suddenly, Seifer had hope. He seized Quistis' arm and squeezed.

"Do you suppose," he asked, "they have something to do with this. I mean, could it just be a coincidence?"

Quistis tugged her arm away. "I don't know. But it seems strange, doesn't it? I mean...they're wolves, after all. I think we should go talk to that ship's crew. They must have picked those wolves up in Trabia, and I can't imagine it's just a big coincidence that the killings traveled here at the same time they did."

"You're right," Seifer nodded. "I don't think it is. I think if we find them...it can all be over."

Quistis smiled a little, encouraged by his sudden drive. "And then you can come back to Garden," she said, reaching out to rub his back.

It was a strange gesture. One she hadn't made toward him in a very long time. It was something he remembered Matron doing when he was little, and he remembered her imitating Matron when she went through her big sister phase -- never mind that she was only two months older than him.

She walked away from him then toward the ships, and as he watched her go he was struck by a sense of relief.

He knew this woman. She wouldn't relent until they found out what was causing this and resolved it. She didn't have to, but they had a history. They were family. She would help him through this because he was all she had -- Squall was neither lover nor brother and the others had been given their own families. Seifer and Quistis, they were the only ones left.

She turned around when she noticed that he wasn't following her. The wind was blowing through her blond hair, swirling loose strands around her face. She motioned for him to follow. He did, and as he walked he remembered being a boy, flying a kite for her in the field, pushing her down on the beach, ganging up on Zell with her, and tormenting Squall for getting all of her attention. They had been the first ones there in the orphanage. Once upon a time, Seifer and Quistis had been two frightened children sleeping together in Edea's spare room.

Quistis had sucked her thumb at the time, he remembered that. And she'd been terrified. He'd been angry. But in the night with the sound of her sucking in his ear and her body tucked in next to his, he'd felt some sense of family.

Presently, he caught up to her and felt real hope. The kind of hope he hadn't felt in a long time. This whole nightmare could be made right. He could trust her with this.

"I still can't believe," she said as he fell into step beside her, "that Zell has had a grandfather all this time and I never knew. Can you imagine?"

He understood her fascination with the old man now. The concept of grandparents was foreign to them. Seifer felt intensely lucky to be unconditionally connected to one person. To have a whole set of people who loved him...it was unfathomable. It was unthinkable that Zell could keep such a boon to himself for so many years.

"Chicken Wuss needed it," he said simply. "He needs more of that than we do."

She looked at him and then pointed out to sea. "There's the _Albatross_."


	15. Feeling

_Even though I leave  
will I go on believing  
that this time is real  
- am I lost in this feeling?_

Chapter 15: Feeling

Buck Henry, the captain of the _Albatross_, wasn't the sort of man Seifer had been expecting. He was young, maybe only a few years older than Seifer himself. And he was charming. Quistis was smiling broadly up at him as he walked with them away from the ship and toward an empty area of the docks to talk. As he spoke, he reached out and brushed his fingers along her arm. He wore a blue knit cap and his shirt sleeves were rolled up, exposing strong forearms.

Seifer hated him immediately.

"It's a beautiful morning, isn't it?" Buck asked, looking down at Quistis, who nodded in agreement.

"It's a little muggy," Seifer grunted, picking up his pace so that he could shoulder his way in between them.

The captain was the one to yield. Quistis held her ground firmly and gave him a hot look for getting in the way.

"We won't keep you long," Seifer said. "We just have a few questions."

"Right. Questions." The captain walked over to a small picnic table in the grass and sat down at it. Quistis and Seifer sat across from him.

"It's nothing about you, or your crew," Quistis reassured him.

"I didn't think it was," he shrugged.

"You didn't?"

"Well...I'm assuming this is about the wolves. Right?" He leaned forward across the table on his elbows. "I've been on ships my whole life, and that was weird even for me!"

"You don't know how they got there?" Quistis asked.

Buck tilted his head to one side. "We were docked in Trabia for quite a while. Let most of my men leave the ship, stretch their legs a bit. It's not a big deal, we do it all the time. Nothing has ever gotten onto the ship before. In Trabia it's not really a big deal. Everyone knows everyone...it'd be hard for someone to hide it if they tried stealing cargo."

"I can see that."

Seifer remembered the ship, the way it had looked so abandoned and ghost-like in the night. It had practically sailed out of the mists to deliver him back into the world of the living.

"I suppose it's not too crazy to imagine that they were hungry or cold and came onto the ship just to see what was there," he scratched his chin. "Only, nothing was disturbed. They seem to have just curled up in the hold and have gone to sleep. Wasn't a problem until we got into the harbor here and one of my men went down to start the unloading process. Says he came around to the other side of a crate and they were both laying there together, huddled up. And the black one woke up and jumped at him."

Seifer tried to remember his trip on the ship. He remembered getting on it and then waking up to the commotion the wolves were causing. He didn't remember them being down in the cargo hold with him. He wondered why they felt so compelled to follow him, why they always stuck so close. Warily, he glanced around at the bushes and buildings surrounding him and wondered if they were hiding among them.

"There were two?" Quistis asked.

"Saw them myself," the captain nodded. "Black one and a silver one. Both of them big."

"What did they do once you found them?"

"Man who found them ran back up top. The two followed him...chased everyone around a little bit."

"Was anyone hurt?"

"Not really. Everyone's got a different story, of course, but I didn't see them attack anyone. Snapped at a few people. One of my guys insists that someone jumped overboard trying to escape them...but nobody is missing and if someone did, he's not about to fess up to it."

Quistis sighed and propped her head up with one hand. "So, they didn't seem vicious to you?"

The captain visibly paused before responding, apparently weighing his words. "I know you two are SeeD...and you wouldn't be here asking me these things unless someone has you after these wolves. They're animals, and they're wild. That's all they are. It's not wrong for something to be what it is." His gaze turned and met Seifer's. "They haven't been in these parts for some time...so people probably don't understand them and they're afraid. But that doesn't mean they can't be here."

Seifer looked away, uncomfortable with the other man's scrutiny. He knew at least one person saw him on that ship and he felt more than a little uncomfortable talking to the captain. What if he had been the one to see something? It was entirely possible that he knew.

"Maybe we should explain ourselves," Quistis sighed. "I'm not the kind of person who's just going to jump to conclusions about these animals, but the evidence is not in their favor at the moment. You see, we got a phone call at Garden from the Esthar Police Department about some strange deaths that had been happening in Trabia. They hired us to come investigate and take care of the monster responsible. You may have heard about these deaths during your time in Trabia: mostly women, all killed in their home, all mauled nearly beyond recognition. The attacks were brutal."

"Yeah," Buck nodded. "I heard about the deaths in Trabia. But Trabia is a brutal place. I don't really see why it concerns you."

"We had people in Trabia investigating," she explained. "One of our men was also killed. And just recently a similar victim appeared here in Balamb. It seems the monster has moved. It can't be a coincidence that your two wolves arrived here at the same time."

"Maybe not," he shrugged. "But I really can't help you any more than by saying that I saw them."

Quistis scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Have your men been on leave while in Balamb?"

"No. Most of my men live in Trabia. We're just here to get new cargo and then we leave."

"So, they haven't been talking to the locals?"

He made a non-committal gesture. "I'm sure they've spoken to a few local people, but I don't exactly monitor that kind of thing."

Seifer was antsy and uncomfortable during the last bit of the interview and couldn't clearly remember what had been said afterward. He was in a bit of a daze when Quistis stood up and shook the captain's hand. All the talk of the wolves had brought them suddenly and sharply to mind. They were the darkness visualized. Suddenly, he wasn't at all comfortable with them being in Balamb. Even more, he was deeply unsettled by the fact that Quistis was aware of them and had even come face to face with one. He felt violated by their intrusion into this aspect of his life.

"You really have been a lot of help. Thank you."

Seifer watched as Buck Henry strode off toward his boat and Quistis thoughtfully crossed her arms.

"What do you think?" she asked him. "He certainly seemed to think the wolves weren't responsible. But what else could it be?"

"I think..." he wasn't positive what to say, his thoughts just beginning to collect together. "I think if we get rid of them, the killings will stop."

That much, he thought, he was absolutely sure of. They were connected.

Quistis grunted softly, keeping her thoughts to herself.

"So. Where to next, then?"

"I'm not sure yet. How about we go grab a bite to eat? My treat," she suggested.

Seifer was happy to get away from the docks. As they drove back into town, he breathed a long sigh of relief. Downtown Balamb was familiar and comforting. Every street corner and building held a memory from happier times in his life. It wasn't so hard to believe in the car beside Quistis that he was just on his way to another SeeD field exam -- a young, unruly cadet full of possibility and potential. He'd participated in so many field exams during his Garden career that he had no difficulty unearthing memories. Most prominent, of course, was his last. The one in Dollet where he had unwittingly sewn the seeds of his own discontent.

He chose to ignore these memories and instead focused on what he recalled of his first exam -- the obligatory trip to the Fire Cavern with Quistis followed by a mission to Timber to squelch the urban unrest wracking the city. That had been the moment in which Seifer had met Rinoa, and for a few months his life had really looked like everything was going smoothly. Even then he'd known that it wouldn't last. All good things end in time -- in Seifer's case, coming into and out of his life in lightning flashes. The summer with Rinoa closed with their relationship on uncertain grounds. He went back to Garden, she continued her resistance in Timber. And the next time he saw her, she was already in love with Squall.

Seifer's own reflection brought him out of his reverie. His face stared back at him from the rearview mirror, the wind from the open window ruffling his hair.

He looked bad.

He hadn't even realized how the past few years had aged him.

Running a hand along his jaw, he felt the lazy beard growth there that blurred the edges of a sharp, jutting jaw. His eyes had sunken a little bit. And his hair which he had always worn brushed back was now too long to do much with. It hung in his eyes and curled slightly around his collar.

As Quistis pulled into the parking lot of a small diner, he resolutely decided that the first step toward recovering himself was going to be physical. He'd resurrect the Seifer of eighteen and forget the past few years. The wolves would be taken care of, and the best inside would be controlled again. He really felt for a moment that he could do it; he could live again in the world he remembered.

He followed Quistis into the diner and she ordered each of them a cheeseburger, fries, and soda. They decided to eat on the restaurant's patio which overlooked the harbor. A gentle sea breeze was blowing and Seifer could just barely make out the form of the _Albatross_ bobbing in the waves.

"Bit of an early lunch," Quistis shrugged, looking at her watch. "But I'm starving. Breakfast just doesn't do it for me sometimes, you know?"

Seifer nodded and chewed his hamburger.

Quistis sipped her soda and made small talk. "What did you do while you were in Trabia? I can't imagine there are many jobs there."

"This and that," he replied. "Odd jobs."

"Did you stay in one place, or did you move around a lot?"

"Moved around. Don't like to stay too long in once place and wear out my welcome." He looked up at her to see if she looked at all guilty or ashamed, but the look on her face was purely thoughtful. She was relaxed, leaning back in her chair with her legs crossed.

"Is that what you were trying to do when Darshan and Bella arrived? Move on to a new town?"

Seifer's hackles began to rise. "Sort of. I wasn't ready to move on yet...but I didn't want to stay around where there was SeeD."

"They weren't there after you," she said simply. "You've never been formally charged with anything."

"You think that makes a difference?"

"It could make a big difference." She started on her fries. "I guess I don't see why you're so reluctant to do anything that might improve your condition."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Seifer slammed his soda down on the table petulantly.

"This monster," Quistis shook her head. "These wolves. I know you know something about them, Seifer. You should have seen your face during the whole interview with Captain Henry. You were terrified. And I know from Bella that you were out there in the woods when Darshan was killed, and that you were hurt, too." She sighed. "I've seen what this thing can do. I'm not sure that I can believe that just two wolves are behind the deaths...and I don't think that you believe that either. If you'd just tell me what you know, I could help you."

"What makes you think that you can do anything to help me?" he demanded.

"You've been running and hiding all this time, and you don't have to. Don't you want your life back?"

He crossed his arms tightly across his chest, not sure what to say. "Even if I were to stop this monster, I could never have my life back."

"You need to quit blaming yourself and give it a chance," she said, jabbing a fry at him. "We've known each other for a long time, and I know the kind of potential you have. If you'd just buckle down and take control of your life, you could do anything you wanted."

Seifer wanted to believe her. The possibility of taking everything back, every sinful thing he'd ever done, was tempting, and for a moment he was lost in it.

He was struck by the beauty of it.

Redemption. Forgiveness. Absolution.

Was it really possible for him to correct the horrible things he'd done and drive the beast away? He could hardly hope to imagine what life would be like if he never had to think about it again. Ultimecia, the dark harbinger of his torment, could give way to peace.

Seifer sighed. It all sounded so restful.

Quistis reached across the table and touched his hand. Her eyes nailed him in place as she spoke. "Just tell me what you've seen, and I'll help you."

He opened his mouth, but closed it again. He couldn't tell her that _he_ was the monster. How could he explain? But he wanted her help.

"I've seen the wolves," he admitted. "In Trabia and here. They were in the woods that day when Darshan was killed. I'm not sure what role they play...but they're connected. I know it."

Quistis nodded, chewing this information over.

"You're afraid of them?" she asked.

Seifer didn't want to admit that he was afraid, and fear wasn't exactly the correct word. He wasn't afraid of the wolves, but knew when he saw them that the change was coming. They were symbols of fear. He couldn't tell Quistis the truth, but he couldn't help feeling that if she could resolve his issue with the wolves things would become bearable again.

So, he nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid of them."

Her lips pursed together. "When I saw one of them..." She looked up at the sky and narrowed her eyes. "I felt awe. It stopped me in my tracks, made my breath catch. I wasn't afraid but I was...humble."

That Quistis had seen one of the wolves disturbed Seifer. He'd never considered them flesh and blood creatures before. They were a presence. And that they chose to betray their existence to Quistis only served to pollute the good memories he had. He knew that if he couldn't overcome the monster, he would have to leave Balamb. He couldn't let the one place which provided him a sense of refuge fall into misery. He needed the memory of Balamb to survive.

"We'll find your wolves," Quistis promised. "They might not be the monster...but if they're connected to it in any way, we'll find them. And once we get this thing figured out, you can start on your way back. Garden will help you, and people will accept you. You'll see. There were lots of people on the wrong side of the war."

"Any ideas where we're going to start?" he asked.

"The woods," she replied. "That's where I saw them. We probably won't be able to sneak up on them, but there should be some trace of them there. We can set a trap for them."

"I won't have to go near them?" Seifer asked.

"No."

He couldn't take it if Quistis saw him change.

"Finish your lunch," she directed him. "We'll head out to the woods and see if we can find a good spot to set the traps. We should be able to get them up before nightfall."

Seifer felt dizzy as he finished eating. He felt like he was dreaming.

His elation allowed him to pass into the woods without trepidation, knowing that each step was taking him closer to the end. He had purpose now.

They found the first evidence of the wolves on the edge of the tree line facing the beach. Large tufts of tawny and black hair were caught in the undergrowth there. Seifer, who was a better woodsman than Quistis, was the one who spotted the settled grass where they had lain together in the night. The spot wasn't well used yet, there were no traces of game or spoor, but the wolves hadn't been in Balamb long.

"This is pretty close to where I saw the one," Quistis said, pointing off into the distance. "I think this is a good spot to put our first trap."

Seifer nodded and looked around, peering in between the trees and wondering if they were there. They were never far. He didn't doubt that somewhere just out of sight they were waiting.

Quistis picked up a bit of the fur and turned it over in her hand. "They must be hot," she mused, "with such thick fur here."

Her observation was banal but spot on, sparking an idea in Seifer's head. "That will be the bait then," he said. "Cold water. They can't drink from the sea so they'd have to go into town for fresh water."

"Good idea," Quistis smiled. She patted him on the back encouragingly. "They won't be able to resist it."

Seifer watched her pace the area, outlining the plan to him and waving her hands expressively. When she confidently turned around to look at him, he felt a great swell of hope and relief. The beast retreated from it, recoiling into his shadowy unconscious. Seifer felt it go, leaving him alone and his mind quiet.

Their first victory.

He smiled back at her, feeding off her confidence and pushing aside all sense of foreboding of imminent conflict and confrontation.

Buried in Seifer's primal core, the beast lingered and waited.


	16. Passing

_Like a child passing through  
Never knowing the reason_

Chapter 16: Passing

Pallas ignored the skin crawling along her belly and pressed closer to the forest floor, peering through the low scrub at the two figures standing just inside the tree line. Ten feet to her right Thero was crouching in the sticky shadow of some wild, overgrown lilacs. His yellow eyes were focused intensely on the human scene before them and his ears were perked, waving back and forth to catch every word.

They had followed the couple to this familiar place. Sticking to the edge of town in order to remain inconspicuous, they used their keen eyesight to keep tabs on their quarry. Although in retrospect Pallas knew the move had been inevitable, she was nevertheless surprised to find that she and Thero were the ones being hunted. Despite the fear he exhibited toward them, Pallas had always believed that Seifer knew them as friendly. They has been sheltering him for so long that his out lash now was borderline insulting.

On the bright side, however, the woman appeared to be someone Seifer trusted. She looked familiar -- a slight resemblance to all those who had followed her in Trabia from the color of her hair to the angle of her nose. Standing next to Seifer, they looked like family.

"I'll go see what sort of equipment we can get from Garden," she announced. Her eyes surveyed the area, sweeping over Pallas and Thero without noticing them. "It shouldn't take long. You could come with me unless you want to wait here."

"No," Seifer said sharply. "But I don't want to go to Garden either. I think...I'll wait for you down by the beach."

Seifer felt a special affinity for the beach that Pallas had never been able to understand. Even in cold Trabia he'd spent all the time he could perched along the shore amid the cold, clammy spray of the ocean.

As the couple parted ways and Seifer started down toward the beach, his hands lodged deep in his pockets and a light step carrying him out of the trees, Thero suddenly thrust his nose out through the fuzzy lilac branches and sniffed the air. Muscles rolled under his black fur and his sides heaved against the ground. Grainy pollen showered down upon from the rattling bush and he sighed in frustration.

"I can't make out anything in this place," he grunted. "Damn flowers are the only thing I can smell."

Pallas tilted his own nose. "What are you looking for?"

"I can't smell it anymore," he said. "The beast. While they were here I lost it. But I can't tell for sure because of these infernal flowers." His large body came suddenly out of the foliage, folding out of limited space in a way that seemed magical.

Pallas hadn't noticed a change but dutifully examined the air, too. "You're right," she said. "I don't smell it either."

"What do you suppose that means?" he asked, plodding over to their grassy bed and checking for damage.

"Maybe it's gone. Perhaps he's beaten it without our help."

"I don't think so," Thero replied, punctuating his assertion with a twitch of his tail. "Things like this just don't go away."

"So then it's still there...but deeper, not presenting physically."

"I wish I knew what we were dealing with here," Thero said. "But everything's changed with this one. This thing is from a time and place that we don't know. Anything could have happened between now and then. Delos might be gone completely there."

"_Don't_ say that," Pallas snapped. "Delos can't just vanish. It never has and never will. They need us."

"The world's a less forgiving place than it used to be," Thero replied calmly. "Maybe it's not worth saving."

"You don't believe that. You wouldn't be here if you did."

The two sat in silence for some time, each mulling over their thoughts. After a few moments, Pallas' logic became circular, and she came to the conclusion that their only option was to react quickly. Whatever they decided to do, in whatever context, it had to be done immediately. Things could look good on the surface but be rotten below -- and her nose wasn't pleased with the situation.

The fur in the middle of Pallas' head scrunched together as she approached her partner, ready to make her suggestion. She sat down, relaxed her fur, and said, "I think she should talk to her."

"_Her_?"

"The woman."

Thero gave her the most incredulous look a wolf could give. "We can't do that."

"No...we can't approach Seifer, and he needs someone."

"That's not part of the deal. You know that. We can only interact with the damned."

Pallas huffed. "We interact with people all the time. How is speaking to her any different than when I appeared to her on the beach?"

Thero was cornered.

"We have to save him, Thero," Pallas cooed. "Perhaps the differences with this curse don't mean that Delos is gone in the future. Maybe it's more present than ever."

He considered this for some time. "We can't simply approach her in broad daylight in the middle of town."

"And we won't," Pallas nodded.

Thero looked down at the ground, thinking. When he finally looked up again, his great yellow eyes were narrow and sad.

"What do we tell her?" he asked. "How do we explain?"

Pallas touched her nose to his but didn't reply.

* * *

Quistis was hot and sweaty by the time she and Seifer finished setting up their traps in the woods. Her face was smudged with dirt, her t-shirt was damp with perspiration, and her hands were rough and scratched from handling the metal traps. Looking at one cut in particular on her thumb from a trap that tripped on her while she was baiting it, she tried to remember the date of her last tetanus shot. Frowning, she turned her hand over and ignored the scrape.

Seifer, too, was somewhat the worse for wear. The late afternoon heat had convinced him to shed his shirt which was tucked into the back of his pants. Under his clothes he was wiry and lean, which struck Quistis as particularly odd.

Seifer had never in his life been overweight, but he'd never been exactly thin either. Even as a teenage boy he'd never gone through the awkward too tall stage. His body seemed to develop all at the same time in harmony -- broad shoulders and chest, strong arms and torso. Compared to the body she had trained, this one was a shadow. Although, in a strange way, it made him appear younger.

She squinted her eyes and looked up at the top of the trees toward the sky. The sun was still hot and heavy but was beginning to loose some of it's intensity as it dropped toward the city of Balamb.

"Starting to get late," she observed.

Seifer walked over next to her and flopped down into the grass. "Good," he said. "I'm getting tired."

She looked down at the top of his head. "How many do you think we got up?"

He shrugged. "No idea."

Quistis awkwardly folded her legs and sat down next to him. She'd kept a rough map of their progress so that they'd be able to find all of their traps in the morning. The hand drawn topography wasn't exactly accurate but was all they had. She spread the folded paper on the ground in front of them and began to count. Each trap was marked on her map with a flag drawn with a red sharpie.

"Fifteen," she finally announced. "Not too bad, considering."

She'd cleaned out Garden's supply of live traps big enough for a wolf to fit into. They usually were used for catching grats for the training center. Each trap was heavy, difficult to carry, and required a great amount of ingenuity to hide. Wolves were considerably smarter than grats and wouldn't be so easily convinced by bait to enter a large wire box.

"Felt more like fifteen hundred." He yawned and scratched his belly. "Hope we don't come back tomorrow and find them full of caterchipillars."

"I think they're too stupid to find them," Quistis laughed.

He smiled at her and she couldn't help but reach out and touch his hand. It wasn't a gesture that she thought much about, and they both took it for exactly what it was.

"I feel disgusting," Seifer announced, getting back up. "Hotter than hell here."

"Me too," she agreed. "We could go down to the beach for a while. We've got some time."

"That sounds a lot like relaxing," he teased. "I didn't think you did that."

She shrugged. "I don't normally take days off either."

They dropped off their things in their Garden car and Quistis drove it down to the beach, happy to leave the woods behind. Late in the day, there were only a few stragglers standing in the waves and delaying the end of their day. Further up the beach a couple was sitting together on a blanket watching the gulls fly and the sun set. Quistis wanted to find them romantic but couldn't help being somewhat repulsed. Watching a sun set sounded good, but in practice it could only make for one hell of a boring date. _Might as well go out and watch grass grow together,_ she thought.

There was just no point to going to the beach and not getting in the water.

She pulled off her tennis shoes and threw them into the back of the car. Seifer lagged behind her as he took the time to roll up his pants.

The water was cold and delicious, pulling hard at her feet when she walked into it. Under her toes it sucked away the sand and the beach consumed her. Side stepping to avoid sinking she turned around to look for Seifer. He looked silly with his pants rolled up but eagerly waded into the water as far as he could. The look of pleasure on his face was childish and bald.

Like children, they splashed and played together in the water -- earning a few irritated looks from one parent when the other two children in the water joined their game of Shark, something Squall (of all people) had made up when they were living in the orphanage. Despite her exhaustion from their long day, Quistis was drawn into the game and her competitive spirit flared bright and hot. She'd always had difficulty playing games without getting too serious about them. Quickly, she found herself hunting Seifer through a wave, her heart pounding, and pouncing on him with all the ferocity of a real shark. The idea was to bite and run, so she held him down against the sandy bottom for a few seconds before bounding away like a frightened deer.

When finally the parents had enough of the dangerous game, calling their children back to the beach and hustling them into a green van, Quistis and Seifer climbed sopping wet back up onto dry land and laid down there together.

Quistis looked down at her clothes which were now heavy, clammy, and covered in sand. The sun was now half set, giving the sky a liminal orange hue. It was getting late – time for them to go their separate ways until morning. Even then, Quistis had to go back to work. She wouldn't have time to check on Seifer and the progress of the hunt until lunch.

Turning her head, she looked at him lying in the sand beside her. His eyes were closed and the sea breeze was playing in his hair. He looked peaceful – much more so than he had that morning. Was this all he needed? Quistis filled with a warm glow, pleased with her own work.

He heaved a large sigh and rolled over on his side to face her.

For an uncomfortable moment, Quistis thought he might kiss or hug her. But he did neither, choosing instead to simply smile at her. She smiled back. The day had been a good one. She felt it as much as he did. It reminded her of the long summer days of her youth that had been filled with infinite possibility. As she looked at Seifer the brother of then and now collapsed together to finally become one person. She'd always had difficulty reconciling her vague memories of Seifer playing in the waves, fields, and trees with the man she'd known in Garden and during the war. Suddenly, they came together and she could clearly see within him the brother she'd known.

The same arrogant, insufferable Seifer – but family.

"I'll give you a ride back to the hotel, if you want," she said.

"I can walk."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded and sat up. "Yeah. You probably need to get back before Garden starts locking down for the night."

She shrugged. "I've got clearance. I can come and go as I please."

"I'll be fine," he insisted.

Quistis was hesitant to part ways. They had made so much progress in this one day, and with the sun setting upon it she feared that it all would be lost. The moment would end. She feared that once she walked away this night, she would loose this Seifer forever. The moment would end. She feared that once she walked away this night, she would loose this Seifer forever. She sensed that some delicate balance was at play which soon would tip to throw them again in different directions.

He stood up and brushed himself off.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he asked, uncharacteristically shy.

"Sure," she nodded. "I'll try to come by once before work if I can. If not, I'll be by the hotel around lunch time."

He nodded, not saying anything, and walked to the car to gather the remainder of his clothes. Quistis watched him pull his shirt over his head and put his shoes back on. A tugging sensation gripped her heart as he awkwardly went to leave, reaching out to her and then covering his action by turning it into a wave. She didn't know how to say what she was thinking, that once he left it would all be over, so she waved back and bit back her misgivings.

Maybe he would change back into the untouchable, unlikable Seifer. It wasn't her choice. She couldn't change who he was to fulfill her hunger for a family.

So she watched him go. And she got into the car and drove away, back to Garden.

By the time she parked the car in the garage she could almost believe that the entire day had been a dream. A pleasant day with Seifer? That wasn't possible. She imagined that she hadn't seen a change or his pain abate. It was easier to just pity him.

The lurid, yellow lighting of the garage stung Quistis' eyes, and she found herself walking back out the door into the night. She'd swing around the building and enter by the front door even though it was further from the dorms than the garage. She needed a bit of time to walk and think.

Night had fallen thick and heavy around Garden. Quistis walked through the shadows and gloom surrounding the building, her mind lightly humming but concentrating on nothing in particular. She felt weary now and relaxed. A bench beside one of Garden's many fountains emerged from the shadows in front of her, inviting and private. With a sigh, she sat down and leaned her head back and took in the moment of peace and silence.

_You're worried about nothing_, she told herself. _What was I worried about anyway?_ She strained her mind to work out the logic of her desire to connect with Seifer.

"I've spent my entire life without him," she said to herself. "Why do I need him now?"

"You don't." A deep, unfamiliar voice intruded upon her. "He needs _you_."

Quistis eyes flashed open and she sat up, expecting to find a cadet walking toward her with questions she didn't want to answer. Instead she saw nothing. The world around her was just as quiet and peaceful as it had been before she closed her eyes. She searched the shadows for a moment longer before slouching with relief. She was just imagining things.

A great breath escaped her, fluttering off into the night. Silvery moths danced around the fountain lights beside her, drawing her attention. Their powdery butterfly wings caught and reflected the light, causing them to confuse one another and swarm chaotically. Quistis was momentarily dazzled by them and so didn't notice at first the glinting eyes in the dark. In fact, by the time she realized that four of the lights weren't like the others -- a glaring orange -- they had her locked in place and breathless.

"Don't be afraid," the deep voice instructed her. "We won't hurt you."

Quistis hand strayed involuntarily to her hip, grasping at air where she normally wore her whip. She couldn't think of a monster or animal that spoke, not even among the most magical. The only non-human creature she'd ever spoken to were Guardian Forces, and they were notoriously tight-lipped and certainly not something she welcomed meeting on a dark night.

"We just want to speak with you," another voice said, this one just slightly higher than the first. Remotely feminine, but certainly no girl.

Quistis watched, half in horror and half in rapture, as the eyes bobbed slowly toward her and became framed in the broad, furry outlines of two large faces. The one she recognized, silvery in the light from the fountain. She was just a shadow but unmistakable -- the wolf. The other form was darker and harder to see, more a sense of great mass than a shape, but Quistis could guess what stood there. As if sensing that she was too exposed, the silver wolf retreated slightly into the dark before speaking again.

"Give us just a moment."

Still in shock, Quistis wasn't sure she could move either to run away or to speak. Part of her head was struggling to overcome the sheer illogical nature of the situation, refusing to believe that anything was even taking place. And still, though she knew running away was what made sense, she didn't feel threatened. Looking at their glowing eyes in the dark she felt a pervading sense of calm which she couldn't bring herself to question.

"We set traps for you," she said bluntly.

"We know," the silver wolf replied.

"You came here from Trabia."

"Yes."

"On the ship, the _Albatross_."

"Yes."

"And the killings..." she breathed.

"We were not responsible for those deaths," the other wolf announced with a low growling.

"But everywhere you are people have died," Quistis shook her head. "It doesn't make sense." _It doesn't make sense...none of this makes sense._ She struggled to come to grips with the idea that she was speaking to two wolves. But how much more extraordinary was this than time compression, Ultimecia's castle, or being shot into space? She'd done and seen plenty of things in her life that were more nonsensical than this.

"You remember the last sorceress war?" the silver wolf asked.

"I was there."

"Ahh...I see..." She saw a tail slash somewhere and the two gleaming eyes turned toward one another. "You're one of the six who battled Ultimecia. And you must have also met Griever than as well?"

Quistis certainly remembered Griever. Her blood still chilled when she thought back to their battle with the monster, so familiar with his Shockwave Pulsar spell. She'd never been subjected to one of her own spells before that battle and found the effects particularly disturbing.

"Griever was not just a monster who Ultimecia had enslaved to her will like the others in the castle," the wolf continued. "She created him. We know this, although we're not positive how or when."

"How could you know that?" Quistis asked doubtfully.

"During time compression, we were given a glimpse of Ultimecia's world and recognized Griever for what he was: a damned soul which once upon a time, like Ultimecia, had been human."

"Both Ultimecia and Griever were humans once?" Quistis was becoming agitated at the line of discussion, the sense of calm starting to wear off.

"The sorceress power is given, not something bestowed at birth. You know that," the male wolf grunted. "And she created Griever through a curse."

Quistis couldn't help but laugh at the impossibility of what they were saying. "Even if you're two wolves here talking to me, which I'm still not sure I believe...how could you know any of this?"

"We aren't wolves."

The silver one said this simply, as if it were plain to see.

"Then what are you?"

"Fravashis."

Quistis knew the word, although she hadn't heard it in many years. At the sound of the word, her once upon a time indoctrination into organized religion came crashing back. A Fravartin was a guardian spirit which conducted souls from this life to the next. In life, however, they were said they could only be made into flesh at the ancient wellspring of light and thought on the island of Delos -- a place in between earth and sky, heaven and hell, body and spirit. Everything she knew about them was fraught with mystical rhetoric.

"But...Fravashis only appear to the dead or the damned," Quistis said, and then gasped with realization.

"We're not here for you," the female soothed.

"Then who..." Quistis shut her mouth quickly, cutting off the sentence. "_Seifer_."

"He has been cursed by the sorceress Ultimecia. The curse feeds off his evil -- guilt, temptation, violence, wrath -- and it transforms him into something neither living nor dead. He will become the beast that lives inside of him," said the male wolf.

"We appear to the damned to help save them," the female continued. "But Seifer cannot see us. Ultimecia...she changed the curse and we cannot appear to him without him transforming into the beast. We need you to help us, or he will be damned forever. And when the end finally comes...if someone defeats the physical monster...Seifer's soul will be lost."

Quistis remembered him in the waves, like a child unaware of the larger struggle waging around him. And now she was right in the middle of it, not only his life but his eternal soul resting in her hands. And his two guardian angels, dressed in the guise of two feral wolves, asking her for help. She sighed under the burden and couldn't help letting an anguished tear slip down her face.

"I don't know if I can do that," she admitted. "I don't believe in this."

The two eyes stared at her out of the dark, real and solid. As they moved closer, she felt the calm creep over her again and erode away her anxiety.

"He loves and trusts you. That's what matters," one of the wolves said, she wasn't sure which. "That's all you have to do."

She sensed the two wolves crowding in around her, physical beings who only seemed angelic or spiritual in the way that they made her head spin. She could hear them speaking to her but couldn't make out what they were saying. The dark came with them, folding in around her, sticky and sweet.

When it abated, the morning sun pierced through her bedroom window and she laid sprawled on top of the covers in her underwear.

The new day dawned, and everything had changed.


	17. The Way Home

_I am home, I know the way.  
I am home, feeling oh so far away._

Chapter 17: The Way Home

Seifer sat on a bench near the docks watching the birds fly over the early morning waves scooping up a breakfast of gnats and flies. Nothing was wrong with the scene – the birds were doing as they always had and the sailors were cursing the ballsy gulls as they always would. Still, something felt different.

He hadn't slept since he'd left Quistis the night before. He'd walked slowly back to Balamb, savoring his solitude in the cozy darkness, and had spent the night on the bench looking out to sea. He could hardly remember the last time that he'd found himself completely alone and peaceful. Ultimecia had been a constant presence ever since he'd fallen out of time compression and onto the Balamb beach. He couldn't close his eyes without feeling her dark wings around him or hearing her voice whispering in his ear. Every day he'd relived the moment when she'd leaned into him, a phantom from the future, and gave him his first dream.

On the bench, Seifer closed his eyes and sighed.

Maybe, he mused hopefully, the world felt different because Ultimecia was finally out of it. She had lingered far beyond her time. He'd gotten used to her. And now, at last, she was gone.

He ran a hand through his hair which was stiff with salt and sand. From the looks he was getting from people walking by, he knew that he looked more like a bum than a man who'd spent the previous day in the company of Quistis Trepe. She still had a reputation in and around Balamb Garden -- he'd heard people talking about her -- as the world's most eligible bachelorette. More and more, it seemed, everyone was wondering when she would find a man. If anyone had noticed her walking around town with him the day before they weren't talking about it.

He found himself wondering whether she had started work yet for the day and whether, if he walked out to Garden, anyone would allow him in to see her.

Seifer was considering finally going back to his hotel to shower when he noticed someone approaching him. His spirit jumped for a moment before he realized that it wasn't Quistis. Not hardly.

Finn Dincht sat down on the bench beside him.

Seifer looked over at the old man but didn't say anything. Finn, squinting out from under a corduroy cap, buried his hands in his overall pockets and let out a long sigh.

"You know, I know all about you," he said. "How you treated my grandson in school. What happened during the war. And after."

"What? Are you going to chew me out or something?" Seifer grunted.

"No," Finn shook his head. "Just saying...I know all about you. And I remember you...from the orphanage."

Seifer looked away quickly, embarrassed.

"My daughter...when she adopted Zell I went with her to Centra to get him. And I remember you from the orphanage there. Quistis and Squall, too."

"I don't know why you're telling me this," Seifer said.

"None of you ever got a family," Finn replied. "Times were hard. After the war everyone was struggling to put themselves back together. And you...you are were just forgotten. Shuffled off to some military academy to be raised as soldiers."

He sighed and crossed his arms.

"I'm just saying...you all found ways of dealing. But I remember you from that orphanage. And seeing you yesterday with Quistis...well...you all made your own family, didn't you? You see, we thought about adopting you and Quistis instead of Zell. We considered it. You probably don't remember, but you were close as kids. You were the same age, everyone else was younger...which doesn't mean much now, but it did then. But we couldn't afford you both, and Zell needed someone so much more."

Seifer frowned, unable to imagine the life that had brushed by him. Living in Balamb with Ma Dincht? Quistis and Seifer Dincht? He couldn't suppress a little shudder.

"I'm sorry," Finn said. "And I'm glad that you've finally found your way home."

Finn cast Seifer an apologetic smile, then stood up and walked away.

_Home?_ Seifer hadn't felt like he'd had a home his entire life. And he certainly didn't feel as if he'd found one now. Balamb didn't want him back and had never really wanted him in the first place. He'd been dumped there along with the whiney and un-adoptable Squall -- the unwanted and unloved given away to the government, trained to serve a purpose if even just in death.

Was that Seifer's home? Was Balamb Garden and everything that it represented the place where his heart and soul could find peace?

Suddenly, with the knowledge that his life could have been different and the hindsight of past possibility, Seifer felt a surge of fatalistic resignation and doubt. It wasn't just that life had been hard for everyone his age, that no one got adopted. It was just that no one had wanted him.

No one had ever wanted or needed him. Not until Ultimecia, who'd asked him to be her hand upon the earth.

With that thought, somewhere deep inside, Seifer felt something move.

His back straightened with the unfamiliar feeling, an unnatural rolling and pulsing in his body. Something folding over, stretching out.

And then, with stark horror, he felt her presence in his head. He heard her laugh, saw her eyes, felt the feathery brush of her wings on his skin.

Ultimecia. The monster. His curse.

He sat still for a long moment, able to feel the monster rumbling inside but unable to do anything about it. His brain ceased to function as he struggled to comprehend his reality. Some primal defense wouldn't allow the truth to fully sink in right away -- it was more than he could handle. He'd been so sure that he'd beaten the monster within, and he'd finally found a peaceful place within himself. But his moment of rest wasn't meant to last. Now, with the ground snatched out from underneath him, he felt like he was free-falling.

In the dark of his mind, only Ultimecia waited in the gloom to catch him. She would ensnare him forever.

Suddenly, he was sure of it. This was his destiny. The unwanted child fulfilling his only function in this world, to preserve the dark witch into the cyclical future in which he would always and eternally be condemned all over again.

No one could change that fate.

Seifer stood up, his uncertain legs hardly supporting him. Choking back the beast like so much rising vomit, he stumbled toward the edge of town and the forest where, he knew, the wolves would be waiting for him.

* * *

Quistis couldn't shake the feeling all morning that something important was happening. As she'd showered that morning her scalp had contracted and tingled. And now, sitting in her office and going over a back-log of paperwork, she couldn't stop the nervous tapping of her toe. She felt uneasy and tight, but no matter what she did could not get the tension to unwind. She'd sipped some of her favorite tea, listened to calming music, and even borrowed her secretary's cheesy desktop fountain shaped like a mini terraced mountainside. None of it helped.

Turning in her chair, she peered out the window where a bright, sunny day was cheerfully passing by.

Things hardly felt sunny or cheerful to her.

She remembered, or simply _knew_ as if the message had been delivered directly into her brain, what the wolves had told her the night before. Seifer's curse was at the top of her mind although, while it contributed to her mood, wasn't wholly responsible for her restlessness. Rather, she felt like something had shifted. Like some critical turning point was quickly approaching. The world was preparing for some kind of dramatic, personal cataclysm.

Quistis went back to work, trying to think peaceful thoughts.

By the time lunch came around, she had already rotated through her repertoire of happy places twice -- thoughts of the waves on the beach, the fields around Edea's house, fireworks, freshly baked cake still warm and spongy, a good book, a good kiss, and newborn babies all failed to relieve her anxiety. But where the realm of thought had failed, she figured real action would suffice and resolved to visit Seifer in Balamb over her lunch hour.

On her way through town, Quistis bought two turkey sandwiches at a deli, one for her and one for Seifer. She was feeling good about her act of kindness when she got to the hotel, but her spirits quickly dropped again when she discovered he wasn't there. For a man with as few friends as Seifer, his absence was bizarre and boded ill in Quistis' mind.

For the rest of her lunch hour, Quistis wandered around town searching for any sign of him, slowly devouring her sandwich but stubbornly holding onto his. Perhaps he'd just been unable to stay in his hotel room all day and had gone out for some fresh air. Maybe he was fishing, he'd always spent time fishing with Raijin although he never seemed to enjoy it. She searched the docks, the beach, and all the restaurants before she had to go back to work.

Walking back into Garden, she finally allowed herself to wonder if he'd left. Knowing Seifer, he'd probably hopped on the first boat out of town the night before. Into and back out of her life in the blink of an eye. She wanted to be angry about it but couldn't help feeling relief. The burden of carrying the fate of another person's immortal soul was certainly beyond her will to contend with. She was glad to let it go.

The rest of her workday went by more quickly than the morning had. The rhythm of phones, meetings, emails, and interruptions provided a quick cadence to carry away the hours. It seemed she'd only just returned from Balamb when she looked up and found the sun beginning to set upon the short day. She stood up from her desk, stretched out her back, and thought about dinner.

Strangely, when the elevator stopped on the first floor Quistis found herself walking toward the front gate rather than the cafeteria. She was going against the flood of young cadets returning from missions, classes, and training to eat and go to bed. All of them were bright faced and sweaty, in the prime of their lives and breathing in each sweet moment with gusto. Quistis, meanwhile, felt her early morning sense of foreboding beginning to return. As the walls of Garden closed in around her, she knew she had to get out and into the fresh air.

She burst forth from Garden and stumbled into the already dewy grass. Night was newly fallen and still fresh. Crouching down for a moment, she breathed in the air and brought herself back to her senses.

"Quistis." A whisper from the shadows.

_Oh no._ She groaned inwardly and looked up, unsurprised to see a pair of gleaming yellow eyes peering at her from a distance.

"Follow me."

"Follow you where?" she asked. "Seifer's gone. I went and looked for him at lunch. He's left."

"He's not _gone_ quite yet," the wolf replied. "Follow me."

_This is crazy. You're going crazy_.

But, Quistis followed the wolf anyway, having no distinct reason to disbelieve. The wolf padded softly across the grass in front of her, it's tail held straight out at attention. Every once and a while, the creature looked back at her as if to be sure she was still following. They reached the border of the woods together, and the wolf turned around, more clear in the moonlight now. It was the same silver female that had appeared to her before.

She lowered her head and spoke delicately: "Stay close. We'll protect you."

The wolf turned back around and headed into the trees. Quistis followed a mere two paces behind, vaguely aware of the other wolf haunting her heels. They were keeping a close eye on her, whether for her safety or just to make sure she didn't turn and run, she wasn't sure. Whatever was happening, they seemed concerned.

They had been walking into the trees for perhaps twenty minutes when the silver wolf stopped and crouched down into the tall grass.

The black wolf approached Quistis from behind and, much to her astonishment, touched her hand with his nose. She pulled away, rubbing at the damp spot with her fingers, and stared down at him. She hadn't expected them to be so real and so solid.

_I'm crazier than I thought._

"Don't make a sound," the black wolf instructed her. "Crouch here, between us, and look."

"Look where?" she whispered.

She didn't have to wonder long. As she dutifully hid between the two who crowded her on either side, a snorting sound approached through the dark. Something was moving just ahead of them, sniffing and grumbling. It didn't sound like anything Quistis had heard in the woods before -- definitely not a bite bug and not even a T-Rexaur. The creature continued to move toward them, unaware of their presence as the wind blew into their faces.

When it appeared in the moonlight, lit in shades of silver and black, Quistis had to stifle a gasp.

It was slightly larger than a man, gangly limbed but with large menacing claws. It's thick fur was smooth and short except for a great sheaf of lightly colored hair at the top of it's head where large ears waved back and forth. From the beast's back sprouted wraith-like wings that didn't appear to be large enough to actually carry the monster. They were boney, bat-like, and slowly shuddering. The monster's face was somewhere in between that of a cat and a dog, with a deep scar down the middle running from between its eyes and across its nose.

The monster went down on all fours, it's dark wings in the air, and made a keening sound that chilled the blood in Quistis' veins.

"What is that?" she asked breathlessly.

The silver wolf looked up at her with a strange expression of sympathy.

"Seifer."

"Ohhhh..." Quistis recoiled. "Oh my god."

The monster -- Seifer -- made the hollow wailing sound again and his wings made a sharp rattling as they shook.

"He's been taken by the beast," the black wolf explained. "Transformed by the curse. That's his inner demon."

Quistis could hardly breathe as everything came crashing down around her and sudden realization rocked the ground underneath her feet.

"He killed those people in Trabia. And Darshan...and the hotel worker..." She remembered the things she had said to him, taking him around town searching for the monster whose capture would earn him a place back in Garden. "Oh my god. _He's_ the monster."

"He is overcome by the monster," the silver wolf said. "They're not one and the same. It consumes him."

Seifer stood back up, his ears waving suspiciously. His large claws flexed against his palms as he surveyed the area. Quistis crouched further into the safe area between the two wolves' bodies.

"If we don't save him, he'll be this way forever?"

"No. The beast will consume his soul, and when it dies he will become nothing."

Quistis felt overwhelmed. Seifer had lived with this curse since time compression, perhaps even before, and somehow no one ever knew. He'd spent the last few months ranging bitter cold Trabia trying to keep this monster at bay while it fed on every dark thought his situation produced. She couldn't imagine such a bleak, hopeless existence.

"He does have hope," the black wolf whispered to her, mirroring her thoughts. "He has you."

"What can I do?" she asked. "Look at him. He's...he's lost."

The black wolf looked at her with a blank face. "You're his family. He loves you. And that is a redeeming thing."

"You just have to be there for him," the silver wolf added. "That's all he needs. Hope and absolution."

"I can't give him either of those. Seifer's not my family...he's Seifer." She scrambled for words. "He's never loved anyone. And we've never been _involved_."

"We can't go to him, so you must," the silver wolf replied. "It's simple."

None of it seemed simple to Quistis who now was being physically urged by both of the wolves to step out of her safe hiding spot and confront this monstrously transformed Seifer. Even in his human form, Quistis would have felt wary of approaching him with such a goal. Equipped with claws and gnashing teeth, he was even more forbidding. She couldn't save him, not from something this big.

"Go," the black wolf barked. "You're all he has. This is his one moment, and he needs you."

Quistis was shoved out of the bushes, scraping her knees and palms on the rocky ground. Seifer turned quickly toward her and let loose a deafening roar that wasn't as hearty as a big cat's but high and shrill like the wailing of Estharan women at funerals. She cowered and looked up at him as he approached, smelling death on him.

His green eyes were piercing from the halo of light hair around his face but empty of recognition.

Quistis scrambled to get up. She knew she had to defend herself or he would kill her just like he'd killed so many before. But she was unarmed and still dressed in her tight fitting Garden uniform with high boots and a long restrictive skirt. She felt naked, thrown into this battle with no way to defend herself. And Seifer, consumed by this monstrous curse, would never know her or what he had done.

"Seifer..." she ventured, holding her hands out. "Seifer. It's Quistis."

The beast began to circle around behind her.

Quistis cast a longing glance toward the trees where the wolves were still crouching, watching the proceedings. _It's simple_, they'd told her. She just had to be there for him, the one who he loved.

"I know that you're in there somewhere," she said. "And I know what's happened to you. But the curse isn't you, Seifer."

The beast growled low, all of it's muscles twitching and salivating out of control. His wings were making the rattling sound again, poised starchily behind him. Try as she might, Quistis couldn't see any semblance of Seifer in the creature. Maybe he was already gone. Maybe she was too late. She remembered her unease that morning and wondered if that had been the moment in which the beast had took control and devoured his soul. Had the world seemed so unbalanced because she was now alone in it? The once upon a time companion of her youth, the only brother she had ever known, and the man she had made it her personal mission to redeem was gone.

"Oh God," she clutched at her chest, looking at the monster and the dark secret he'd been keeping. "Someone should have been there for you. I should have done something sooner. I'm so sorry."

The beast grew more and more agitated as she talked. When the apology slipped from her lips, it lunged at her, knocking her to the ground with it's bulk. She landed with a hard thud, the air pushed out of her lungs. Her eyes closed involuntarily from the pain and so she caught just a short glimpse of the monster raising it's great paw to hook it's claws under her ribs and tear her open.

Her eyes opened when a human hand hit her hard on the side and someone collapsed on top of her. Still unable to breathe, she opened her blurry eyes to see a half transformed Seifer gasping on top of her. Tears ran down his ruddy face which now looked wholly like his own. His cries, however, were still the haunted ones of the monster. He seemed to cough them out in great spasms, each one sounding a little more human than the last.

Finally, she found herself looking at the man she knew; naked, sweaty, and scarred.

"Seifer," she choked out, looking up at him.

He looked down at her, seeming to only half comprehend what he was seeing and what she was saying.

He wasn't gone yet. It wasn't over. She could still save him.

He crawled off of her, coiling up until his knees touched his chest. His hair was damp with sweat, his body was shaking.

She sat up, her heart breaking for him, and held out her hand. He was looking at her proffered hand when she noticed the wolves approaching on either side from the trees. They were gleaming in the moonlight, ethereal and much less solid than they had seemed only moments before when they'd been seated warmly on either side of Quistis' frightened body. Now they appeared much more angelic, and the silver one spoke in a smooth, calming voice.

"Come with us now, Seifer, and leave this thing behind you," she said.

Seifer acted as if he couldn't see them, still staring at Quistis' hand. He blinked slowly, then looked up at her face.

"Have faith," the black wolf said.

Seifer swallowed visibly, and then slowly reached out for Quistis' hand.

She felt his fingers grip hers, firm and solid. For a moment, she held firmly to his warm hand and felt all the love that she possessed for him well up in her heart. For good or ill, he was her brother and without conditions or reason, she loved him.

And then, the two wolves tilted their heads toward the sky and howled, startling Quistis' hand away from Seifer's. Their voices rang over the woods in a great lamentation.

When it was done and the howl had rang off into the distance, Quistis found herself alone. The two massive wolves had vanished, leaving behind only a feeling of intense relief. And Seifer, laying utterly spent in the grass with his eyes open staring toward the sky, was finally at peace.

THE END

Author's Notes:

From the Encyclopedia Mythica: "In ancient Persian (Zoroastrian) religion, the Fravashis (singular: Fravartin) are guardian angels or protecting spirits. They guide the souls of the deceased to heaven. Each family or clan has its own spirit, which guards and looks after only them. The Fravashis assisted Ahura Mazda in the creation of the world and, as riders armed with spears, are the defenders of heaven. In Zoroastrianism, the Fravashi are the ancestral spirits of true believers." Everything else about Fravashis in the fic I've made up.

I locate the wolves in Delos in this fic because Delos is the traditional birth place of Apollo, who I've always associated with Seifer (Apollo is occasionally, for some reason, associated with Hyperion). Incidentally, Delos means "brilliant" and so is an appropriate name nonetheless.

And, once again (just in case it's been forgotten by now), all of the lyrics at the beginning of each chapter from two songs by Enya, "Exile" and "Evening Falls." Find them on her Watermark album. I conceived of this story while listening to these two songs ("Evening Falls" especially) and felt it would be interesting to show the process and structure the whole story on top of them.


End file.

Final Fantasy VIII, Angst, Friendship