The Forgotten Sorceress
Written by Asmodean.

Esthar, the most scientifically-advanced city on the face of the world, sprawled across the face of the easternmost continent of the world. While being mainly arid savannahs and surrounded by high mountains, the citizens of Esthar had made their home there, and prospered. Buildings towered toward the sky, and among them threaded dozens of transport tubes, made of transparent amber-shaped glass. The streets were wide, made of blue metal that spanned across wide chasms. Unlike Dollet, designed and built by the remnants of Centra’s people, Esthar had been built not only as a home, but a work of art and science. Esthar’s achievements had not ended there, but culminated in the construction of other facilities. The Sorceress Memorial, built for sealing magic users away from their powers; Odine’s Lunatic Pandora laboratory, a high-tech research facility, and the Lunar Gate, built for transporting citizens to and from the Lunar Space Station. All were built as a monument to Esthar’s scientific ability. But few knew that the reason Esthar had developed its technology so fast was due to the work of a few people.
Chief Scientist Eldrene Kerenmosa was among the best of Esthar’s scientists. Her work had revolutionized Esthar after the Sorceress War, and had led to numerous changes in the technology of the period. In her laboratory, she sat behind her desk, working away at her computers, looking for a new end to tuck in. She was not noted for her social ability; her work consumed her life. A knock at her door made her look up.
“Yes?”
A man, a fellow scientist, poked his head in. “Eldrene, are you going to be here the rest of the night?” He was a tall man, with big brown eyes, and a kind demeanor.
She smiled, and looked back to her computer. “Yes, Trevor,” she said. “I’m still working on the new theorem for zero gravity engines.” Her fingers raced across the panels, tapping keys with long slender fingers. “Why?” she asked, looking up.
Trevor stepped inside, shrugging. “I thought maybe you’d like to grab a cup of coffee with me, if you’re going to be here for a while.” He stuffed his hands into his lab coat. “And, I thought, maybe . . . ” he trailed off.
She cocked her head at him, confused as to what he meant. “Maybe what, Trevor?”
He shook his head rapidly. “Nothing, Eldrene, nothing at all.” He turned to leave. “I’ll see you in the morning, sweetheart.”
She blew him a kiss. “Take care, Trevor. I’ll still be here.” He smiled at her, and shut the door. He was such a sweet guy. When she was sure he was gone, she stood, and opened the door to her office. The long hallway was empty. She quickly shut the door, and locked it. Tucking the key into her pocket, she started down the long hallway. Eldrene Kerenmosa was not what one would expect from a scientist; she was tall, pretty, and had long black hair pulled back into a utilitarian ponytail. Instead of thick glasses, she had reading glasses, on a chain around her neck. Her clothes were, however, her most distinguishing feature. A black blouse, and a short black skirt, with a white lab coat over it all. Her shoes were heels, tied around the ankles with thin cord. She made for an interesting sight, but nobody could deny her brilliance.
At the end of the hall, there was a pair of massive double doors, locked with a security card. The lock was not normally accessible to staff of the facility, but Eldrene Kerenmosa was hardly staff; she was indispensable. She reached the double doors, and produced a card from her pocket. Sliding it through the keycard reader, she pushed the doors open, and slipped inside. The doors locked again, and the lights snapped on, flooding the room with harsh light. This was her personal laboratory, packed with all of the equipment that she used regularly. Tables upon tables were laden with computers, components, power cells, conduits, and assorted other oddities that she used to construct her inventions. At the far corner of the room was an enormous metal circle, set into the wall, with steps leading up to it. She looked up at it, and smiled. That one device was what had drawn her attentions for the past fifteen years. An expedition into Centra had unearthed it near the Crystal Pillar, and it had lain in storage for the past twenty years. Nobody knew what it was, or what it was used for. It had seven rings in the wide metal band that made it up; each ring was inscribed with hundreds of different symbols, and spun freely with a simple push.
She walked up to it, and rubbed a hand across its dark metal surface. It was cold, hard, and lifeless, but long ago Eldrene had vowed to activate it, bring its secrets to life. Nothing before had given her so much trouble before. No equation, no theory, no piece of ancient technology had ever given her pause, save for this. With a half smile, she sat down at her desk off to one side near the ring, and activated the small terminal. She put on her reading glasses, and glanced at the clock before she set to work. It was 10:32.
It was 2:45 before she looked up from the terminal again. She pushed her glasses back onto her hair, leaned back, and sighed. The Gate, as she called it, was incredibly complex. There were thousands of channels for power, more than a billion combinations for the symbols to be aligned in, and that was just the beginning. The metal it was made of had an atomic structure that was yet to be seen anywhere else. Four hours of work, and she had little to show for it. She stood with a groan, rubbing a sore shoulder. “I’m too old for this,” she sighed, and dropped her glasses on her desk. “Just once, I’d like some excitement around here.”
No sooner had she said that, then bedlam broke loose. A piercing siren wailed, and the Gate began to move. The outer two rings began to slowly spin, until at the peak of the metal circle, the rings locked into place. The next two in sequence began rotating, and locked into place in a similar manner. She dashed to her computer, even as the next two rings began rotating. Her fingers flew across the panels even as the third set of rings began rotating. “Record all relevant data about the Gate!” she snapped.
“Recording,” a cool version of her own voice said.
She turned back to watch the rings, even as the final one locked into place. There was an eerie period of silence as light danced across the rings, then burst out away from the Gate and the wall in a tower of light. Eldrene was flung backwards on her rear, skidding backwards several feet, momentarily blinded. When she regained her vision, there was a strange sight before her. The Gate, instead of the white wall showing behind it, was instead filled with a puddle of liquid light, shimmering, rippling, but never showing any signs of stopping. “Amazing,” she breathed, and scrambled back to her feet. She looked back to her computer, to make sure that the data was still being recorded. What she saw was amazing.
The energy in the Gate was astounding. Power was being channeled through the thousands of tiny channels, forming a pattern that almost seemed alive. It was drawing enormous power, from where she had no idea. She yanked off her lab coat, and tossed it aside. The Gate was generating a lot of heat. She turned back to the Gate, and stepped back, startled.
A woman stood in front of the circle of light, dressed entirely in black. Her eyes were cold, sharp, and flinty; her face was calm, but with an underlying cruelty that made Eldrene shiver. A man flanked her, tall, dark, handsome, but with a look in his eyes that made her wonder if he was really alive. But what scared her the most were the two Galbadian soldiers with them.
“Eldrene Kerenmosa,” the woman in black said. “That is who you are, yes?”
“What are you talking about!?” Eldrene shouted. “Who are you?! What do you want!?”
The woman smiled, a hideous sight. “I want to talk with you, Eldrene. I want to make a deal.” Her man stepped forward, down the steps. “Will you talk with me?”
Eldrene watched the man as one would watch a serpent. “What do you want to talk about?” The man stopped, and crossed his arms.
The woman smiled, and stepped forward, next to the dark man. “I come here to talk with you, Eldrene.” She smiled. “About your power, and what it means.” The Galbadian soldiers moved down the steps as well, putting themselves between the women and the Gate.
Her heart skipped a beat. “My power?”
“Yes,” the woman said coolly. “You have power, and I have come to talk with you about it.” She stepped a little closer. “You have enormous potential, if only you knew how to use it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she snapped,” stepping backwards. She missed a step in her heels, and stumbled backwards into a chair. “Who are you!?” she shouted.
“Forgive me,” the woman said, nodding her head. “I am called Lahliel.” She raised her head. “Sorceress Lahliel. I come from a nation called Galbadia.”
“I know what Galbadia is,” Eldrene snapped. “How did you get here?! Why are you here?! Just tell me!” she shouted, a tear trickling from her eye.
“You have the sorceress power, Eldrene Kerenmosa,” Sorceress Lahliel said levelly. “I have come to make you an offer. Serve me. Power will be yours, if you will but serve.”
“What kind of an offer is that?!” she shouted at her. “Leave me alone! I want no part of your kind!”
“Well then,” she said sadly. “If you will not serve me willingly, then you will still serve me.” She raised a hand, and pointed a ringed finger at her. “Whether you want to or not.”
Eldrene stood sharply. “I serve only Esthar.” She jabbed a finger at the Gate. “Leave now, before I call security!”
Sorceress Lahliel gave no reply; her finger never wavered, and her gaze seemed even more full of malice than before. The Galbadian soldiers turned around, though, and the dark man frowned. His eyes seemed full of sadness. The temperature in the room seemed to plummet sharply, and the light dimmed, as though a shadow had been thrown across it. As she twisted around to look, she felt her body begin to stiffen, until she could no longer move. Even when she tried to scream, all she felt a terrible tightness in her chest. Only now did she know the true meaning of Sorceress Lahliel’s words. She would serve, whether she wanted to or not.
Evgeni Sigismondavich watched as the woman, Eldrene Kerenmosa, began to change. He had seen this done before, many times and still did not have the heart to enjoy it. The woman’s shoes were the first to change; as he watched, her shoes turned into glittering crystal, which began to work its way up her body. Her legs were first, followed by her chest, and then her arms. Her face was the last, and it was like the numerous others he had watched been turned into crystal; stark surprise, and a touch of knowing. They all knew, in the end, that they would serve. He turned around, disgusted; he had no love for this. The guards, despite their face-concealing helmets, were also disgusted; he could sense it.
“She was a stubborn woman,” Sorceress Lahliel said. “But with more backbone than others, I must admit.” She turned to Evgeni. “Prepare to dial the Gate back to Galbadia.” She turned to the guards. “Prepare the woman for transport, gentlemen. Take exceptional care with this one; she is stronger than most.” The guards nodded, and moved forward gingerly, to pick up Eldrene Kerenmosa, and to take her back through the gate. Evgeni turned to her computer, and picked up the pair of reading glasses laying next to the panel. Holding them in his hand, he tucked them into his jacket pocket.
“Easy with her, you fools! You break that statue, and I’ll make you two wish for death for ages!” he heard Lahliel shout. He began tapping keys, and scanned the data that popped up on the screen. He blinked, and stopped at a particular file. “Angelique,” he said loudly.   “Yes?” Lahliel said, stepping up to his side.
He pointed at the screen. “This might come in handy,” he said, pointing at the screen.
She leaned forward, and nodded. “Yes, Evgeni, you’re right. This could be useful. Download the data through the Gate, and destroy this station.” She turned back to supervise the removal of the statue.
“Yes, Angelique,” he said, and began to download the data. When he was finished, he whipped out his sword, and swung the night-black blade into the terminal next to the one recording the data from the Gate. It exploded in a shower of sparks and sizzling circuitry, and smoke trickled from the screen. With a grunt, he tucked it back into its sheath on his back, and strode for the Gate.
“I trust you took care of the loose end, Evgeni?” Lahliel asked him in a friendly voice.
“As always,” he said, with a slight smile.
“Good,” she said, smiling. “Now, about the Gate?”
“Yes, my Sorceress,” he said, and began spinning the rings manually. The first ring locked into place, and he worked his way through the combinations, until he reached the final chevron, one that looked like a square with a line through it. “Activating the Gate!” he shouted, and swung the final ring into place. The familiar light began to trickle across the surface of the Gate, until it flooded the interior, and swirled around into a vortex. The guards, bearing the crystal statue of Eldrene Kerenmosa were the first through. Sorceress Lahliel followed them, intent on making sure the statue was unharmed. Evgeni Sigismondavich looked back at the computer terminal that he was supposed to smash, and sighed. With a final glance at the lab, he stepped through the circle of light, and vanished.
Behind him, in the lab, the computer kept recording everything in the room, until it ran out of space to store the information, at which point the recording cut off. The Gate, after ten minutes of activation, shut itself off. If Evgeni had destroyed the proper computer, all relevant data would have been lost; it would have seemed as though Eldrene had simply vanished. But Evgeni had left a clue. If only one would follow it, was the question. Sorceress Lahliel thought she had Evgeni’s undying loyalty; if only she knew how wrong she was.
Trevor knocked on the door to Eldrene’s office. “Eldrene?” he said, knocking again. “You in here?” He pushed the door open. Her terminal was abandoned, on the screen a design for a decidedly strange-looking engine. He knuckled his brows, and walked behind her desk. Sometimes she laid down for a nap underneath her desk, but she wasn’t there. “Eldrene?” he said out loud, looking around. He jabbed a button on a wall panel. “Locate Chief Scientist Eldrene Kerenmosa,” he said.
The panel bleeped angrily at him. “Chief Scientist Kerenmosa is not in the facility.”
He stabbed the button again. “What time did she leave?”
“Chief Scientist Kerenmosa has not left the facility at any time during the past ten hours.”
Trevor began to worry. He had been gone only eight hours.   “Where was she last seen?”
“Chief Scientist Kerenmosa was last recorded as being in High Security Lab 2.”
“What level of authorization is required for access to that lab?”
“Omega Clearance is required for access to High Security Lab 2.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “I know she keeps a spare keycard around here somewhere,” he muttered, rifling through her drawers. His search was rewarded with the discovery of a green piece of silicon, stamped with Eldrene’s name, picture, and clearance. He ran down the hall to the doors to High Security Lab 2, and quickly slashed the keycard through the reader slot. The light had barely blinked green before Trevor slammed the doors open, and entered the lab. The tables full of obscure equipment and ancient artifacts barely grabbed his attention; he was panicking. Eldrene was not here, either. He dashed by the Gate, and to the smashed terminal. The thing looked as though it had been smashed by something heavy, and sharp. His eye caught something glittering on the floor near the circle of black metal. Running over to it, he went down on one knee and picked it up. It was one of Eldrene’s earrings, one of the pair he had given her a month ago for her birthday. Clutching it in his fist, he dashed to the wall panel, and hit the alarm. Even as the lights flashed red, and the sirens went off, he sat against the wall, staring at the earring in his hand. Eldrene was gone. When the security guards arrived, they found Trevor leaning against the wall, still staring at the earring.
Squall Leonheart hated being summoned to Headmaster Cid’s office. He supposed it was a holdover from his days as a SeeD candidate. He punched the button, and stepped into the elevator. He pressed the button for the third floor, and waited as the elevator sped upwards. When it stopped, he stepped out, and through the fancifully-carved oak doors to the Headmaster’s office. Headmaster Cid was a rotund man, with thinning brown hair, but his eyes still sparkled of youth, and better times.
He saluted, his feet held together. “You requested my presence, Headmaster?”
“Yes Squall,” he said, standing from behind his desk. He brushed his hands down his front, smoothing his clothes. “We have been offered a job by Esthar, and I want your input on it.”
Squall frowned. “Esthar?”
“Yes,” Cid said, walking around his desk, holding a fistful of papers. “President Laguna contacted me this morning, with a request to hire SeeD.” He handed the pile of papers to Squall. “Here are the vital statistics, Squall.”
Squall skimmed through the papers, mumbling passages out loud. When finished, he looked up. “Kidnaping?” he asked in a quizzical tone. “Does this really require SeeD, Sir? President Laguna has more than enough soldiers to put on the case. Why does he want SeeD?”
Headmaster Cid sighed, and sat back down behind his desk. “Squall, President Laguna specifically asked that the information behind it be told only a need-to-know basis.” He leaned back in his chair. “If you were to accept the offer, then I would tell you all that we know. If you don’t want to take the case, then I’ll hand it off to one of your comrades.” He noticed that Squall’s eyebrow twitched at that remark. “I’d prefer that you be assigned to this mission, Squall. You’re the best SeeD that we have, and the mission calls for expertise in handling matters carefully.”
“What’s he willing to pay, Sir?”
Cid sighed, and leaned forward. “President Laguna is being quite generous in his reimbursement. If we accept the mission he has set for us, he will send a team of technicians to fully repair Trabia Garden, and make it airborne, like Balamb Garden.” He gestured to the seas below the windows. “And, upon completion of the mission, a large sum of money.”
Squall tossed the papers back onto Cid’s desk with a thud. “How much money are we talking about? This won’t be a repeat of the Dollet Imperial Dukedom mission, will it?”
Cid flinched at that. The Dollet Dukedom hadn’t paid SeeD well at all for that mission; it was only good for a training mission for SeeD candidates, and nothing more. “No, he has offered to pay us fifty times that much.”
Squall’s eyes widened slightly. “He must want this person back pretty badly.” Cid nodded in agreement, and gestured to the stack of papers. “Very well,” Squall sighed, and picked up the papers again, tucking them into his jacket. “I’ll take the mission.”
“Excellent!” Cid said excitedly, standing up. “Report back to me in a few hours with your team. I’ll brief you then.” Cid held out his hand. Squall looked at it strangely, then shook hands. “Dismissed,” Cid said, sitting back down.
Squall stepped out of Cid’s office, and punched the button that would call the elevator. While he waited, he flipped through the file folder Cid had given him. The circumstances behind the scientist’s disappearance were decidedly odd, indeed. Vanishing one night while working in a laboratory full of strange ancient devices was hardly grounds for a kidnaping, he thought. She probably found something she didn’t bargain for in that pile of rubbish. The elevator dinged, and the doors slid aside. Still reading the file, he stepped inside, and punched the button for the first floor. The elevator shot downwards.
Quistis Trepe was in the middle of eating her lunch when someone sat in the chair across from her. Their boldness surprised her to some degree, but she decided to play it cool. Without looking up from her book, she swallowed the bite of salad she was munching on. “This is my lunch hour, and I’d be grateful if you would let me eat in peace,” she said, flipping the page.
“Now Quistis, that’s not very nice,” a familiar voice said.
Quistis looked over the top of her book, into Squall’s eyes. She pushed her reading glasses up onto her hair, and carefully bookmarked her page. “Squall, what brings you out of the Training Center?” She smiled, and set the book down on the table.
Squall actually smiled at her, and picked up her book. “Interesting topic, Quistis. Sorceresses?” He set the book back on the table. “I was called to Headmaster Cid’s office not ten minutes ago.” He set a thick file folder down on top of her book. “We’ve been assigned a mission, and Headmaster Cid said I should assemble a team.” He rubbed the scar between his eyes with a hand. “Want some action?”
Quistis shrugged, and took another bite of her salad. “Might as well. Not much action around here these days.” She flipped through the file slowly, reading each page. Students came and went, the sun sparkled through the dome onto the trees, and occasionally a card game was played. At last, she handed him the file, and pulled her glasses down around her neck. “Interesting. Why does President Laguna want this scientist found so badly?”
Squall sat back in his chair. “Apparently, she’s the cornerstone of most of their technology. She’s been involved in many projects in Esthar, among them the Sorceress Memorial, Lunatic Pandora, and Tears’ Point.” He tapped the file with one finger. “Eldrene Kerenmosa is one of their foremost scientists; it’s no wonder they want her back so badly.”
Quistis nodded, and set her fork in her empty salad bowl. “Count me in, Squall.” She gave a mischievous little smile. “Or should I say, Commander?” Squall groaned, and covered his face with a hand. Quistis laughed, and picked up her book. “I assume the Headmaster will want to confer with us before we leave?”
Squall nodded. “Yes, he will. Three hours, to be exact.”
She stood, and pushed in her chair. “Very well, then. Whom are you going to bring along with you? I understand it is almost time for the final exams.” She looked down at him. “Are you going to take my suggestion and take a troupe of SeeD candidates out for their exams this year?”
He stood, frowning. “I’m a SeeD, Quistis, not a babysitter. I don’t like taking students for their exams.” He grabbed the folder off the table, and tucked it under his arm. “I’m off to find Irvine and Zell. Would you happen to know where they are?”
“I think Zell is in the Library with his girlfriend,” she said, with that half-smile that she somehow found endearing. “Irvine is probably in the Quad with Selphie.” She picked up her empty salad bowl. “In the meantime, I have to get back to my studies. I’ll see you in a few hours, then?”
“Headmaster Cid’s office, three hours from now,” he agreed. With a smile and a wave, she walked off, drawing the attention of a certain student sitting near the entrance. A Trepie, he thought. If Quistis had any inkling of the fan club she had grown around her, she would never be able to set a foot outside her dorm room. As he was about to leave, someone grabbed his arm.
“Ready for a challenge, Squall?”
Squall turned around to see Xu standing there, Triple Triad cards in hand. He mentally sighed. “I’m very busy, Xu, I don’t have time for a game right now.”
Xu smiled at him. “Come on, Squall; I’m off duty, and nobody else can beat me at cards.” She waggled them under his nose. “You aren’t scared of losing, are you?”
“Xu, I really . . . ”
“Please, Squall? One game of cards? I’ll make it fast, I promise.”
Squall looked away, and sighed. “All right,” he conceded. “But a quick game. Promise?”
“Of course!” she said excitedly, and sat down at a nearby table. She held her cards in front of her. “Rules?”
Squall sat down across from her, and reached into his pocket for his cards. “Rules; Open, Same, Trade Rule One.” He set his six cards alongside Xu’s card board. “Ladies first,” he said with a wave of his hand.
“So, chivalry isn’t dead yet,” Xu said playfully, and laid the first card down; a Gerogero card, in the top left corner. Squall looked at it, and then plucked his Irvine card, and laid it in the top right corner. Xu countered by laying down an Iguion card between the two. Squall set his Edea card in the bottom left corner; Xu countered with her Ultima Weapon card, between Gerogero and Edea. Squall set his Selphie card in the center of the board, flipping two of Xu’s cards. With a frown, Xu slapped a Jumbo Cactuar card below the Selphie card, flipping it. Squall countered, laying down his Doomtrain card next to Selphie, flipping her back. Xu laid down her final card, and folded. The board clearly showed that Squall had won.
“A nice try, Xu,” he said, collecting his cards. “Perhaps next time,” he said with a small smirk. He stuffed his cards back into his pocket. “You’re not bad, you know.”
Xu sighed. “What cards do you want?”
“None of them, Xu. You keep them; maybe you’ll get some fantastic cards with them someday.” He left Xu with her jaw on the floor, stunned. The crowd that had gathered around them during the game began to disperse, and Xu glared at Squall as he left the Cafeteria.
In Headmaster Cid’s office, Squall and his team had assembled; Squall, Quistis, Irvine, Zell, Selphie, and Rinoa milled about, conversing among themselves, as Headmaster Cid prepared for the briefing. When Headmaster Cid finally arrived, they stood at attention, saluted, and then relaxed.
“Welcome, all of you,” Cid said loudly, friendly. “Am I to understand that Squall has briefed you all on the mission you are being dispatched on?”
Irvine ran a finger along the brim of his hat. “Nothing beyond the bare bones details,” he said laconically. “Some scientist got kidnaped, and now we’re going to go find her?”
Cid sat down behind his desk. “That is, as you put it, the bare bones of it yes,” he said. “But in reality, there is much more than that going on.”
“What do you mean, Sir?” Quistis asked.
Cid sighed, and rubbed his temple with one hand. “Eldrene Kerenmosa was Esthar’s premier scientist until she vanished a day and a half ago. She worked on every major project started by Esthar. This includes Lunatic Pandora, the Sorceress Memorial, Tears’ Point, Lunar Gate, and the Ragnarok-class of space shuttles. President Laguna has offered us a sizeable sum of money, in addition to a large favor, if we locate and rescue Miss Kerenmosa.”
“How much money are we talking about?” Zell asked, crouching, and resting a gloved fist on the floor. He was always like this; direct, and itching for combat.
“President Laguna has offered us a lump sum of five million gil for her safe return. In addition, for accepting the mission, he will have his technicians begin repairs to Trabia Garden, and activate the hover system.” He steepled his fingers across his chest. “You six are to depart immediately for Esthar.” He punched a key on his computer, and turned it around for them to see. “This is Eldrene Kerenmosa, the missing scientist.”
Irvine whistled in appreciation. “She’s quite a looker.” Selphie elbowed him in the gut.
“Well, yes,” Cid said nervously. “But that is irrelevant.” He punched another key. “There is a ship from Esthar waiting for you in Balamb Harbor, disguised as a fast-attack transport. That ship will take you directly to Esthar, via the sea.”
“We’re not taking the Ragnarok?” Rinoa asked. Selphie seemed crestfallen.
“Ragnarok is too easily seen; this mission will require covertness, not flashing about in something that everyone recognizes.” He turned the computer back around. “But if need be, I will have the Ragnarok on standby, in case you get into trouble.”
“Sir,” Selphie started, but Cid cut her off.
“Miss Tilmitt, I have a special mission for you.” He looked up at her. “You come from Trabia Garden, so you know most of the student body there. You will accompany the repair teams to Trabia Garden, so the remaining faculty doesn’t get the wrong impression.” Joy lit Selphie’s face. She would get to go home, and bring good news, at that!
“Thank you, Sir!” she said happily.
He smiled. “No problem, Selphie.” He pushed the top of his desktop computer closed. “Now, you had best prepare to get moving, my children,” he said with a smile. “The best of luck, to you all!”
Squall returned to his room, to retrieve his Gunblade, and pack some extra supplies. He picked up the large case, set it on his desk, and lifted the top. His Gunblade rested inside on a bed of black velvet. He lifted it, stuffed the extra rounds into his pocket, and holstered it at his waist. He picked up a large leather-bound journal, and stuffed it into his pack. The files and reports about the disappearance of Eldrene Kerenmosa went in as well. He grabbed a small steel case, and set it on top of his bag. While he was changing out of his SeeD uniform, a knock came at the door.
“Just a second!” he yelled, pulling up his pair of black leather pants. The door opened before he could pull his shirt on. Rinoa walked into the room cautiously, catching a glimpse of Squall in his pants, boots, and nothing else.
She stifled a laugh. “Squall, what are you afraid of? I won’t bite.”
He frowned, and pulled on his white shirt and jacket, ignoring her stares. “I know you won’t bite, Rinoa,” he said, pulling his Griever necklace out of his shirt.
“You’re just shy, right?” she said, smiling.
He blushed slightly. “Whatever,” he said, grabbing his bag and case. “Are you ready to go?” he asked, slinging his bag over one shoulder.
She showed him the Shooting Star, strapped to her wrist launcher. “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.” She lowered her arm. “What about you?”
“I was just about to leave,” he said, folding his uniform pants and jacket, and hanging them on the wall. “Are the others ready?”
“They sent me to get you,” she said, leaning on one leg.
“Then let’s not keep them waiting,” he said, offering her his arm. She took his arm with a wide grin, and even some of her exuberance made Squall smile. As they arrived at the gates of Balamb Garden, the others were already there. Irvine sat on a bench, polishing the Exeter with his coat sleeve. Quistis was trying out her whip, lashing it about like there was no tomorrow. Zell was shadowboxing, like he always did before a mission. Selphie was nowhere to be seen, but he was sure she was off getting ready to head back to Trabia. He dropped his bag next to the others lined up on the tiles, and sat down on a bench, Rinoa next to him.
“Are we ready to go, everyone?” he asked out loud.
Quistis coiled her whip, and holstered it at her waist. “I’m ready.”
Irvine waved his hand, and shouldered his Exeter. “Ready as always, Commander.”
Squall ignored that comment. Zell turned around, and somersaulted toward the line of bags. “Let’s kick some ass!” he shouted, and continued to shadowbox.
“All right, then,” Squall said. He checked his watch. “We should be near the Balamb coast in about five minutes. We’ll just relax until then.”
Zell stopped his shadow boxing, and wandered over to Irvine. From his pocket, he produced some Triple Triad cards. “Hey Irvine, wanna play?” Squall could see Zell’s hand. It was a decent one, but Irvine was rather good himself. This might get interesting.
Irvine shot Zell a look from underneath his hat, and grinned lazily. “You’re on, ronin boy.” He pulled a set of cards from his jacket, and laid the first one out. Zell frowned, and laid out a counter card. This went on for quite some time, until Balamb Garden began to vibrate slightly. The clouds began to move upwards, and the sandy beach below grew closer.
“We’re here,” Squall said, standing. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on, Squall,” Zell said. “I’ve almost won!”
“Now, Zell,” he said firmly.
“Frickin’ hell,” Zell muttered, and gathered up his cards. “We’ll finish this later, pretty boy!” he snapped. Irvine waved at him as he wandered away.
Balamb Garden descended slowly, until the lower stabilizer barely touched the sandy beach. Nida, the pilot, was very good at what he did. One by one, the members of Squall’s team slid down the rope gangway, onto the beach. After gathering their bags, Balamb Garden rose slightly, turned, and set out across the seas again. Squall and the others watched until Balamb Garden was gone over the horizon.
“Gather your bags, everyone. We need to make Balamb by nightfall.” There was a strange silence in the air as everyone gathered their things, and began hiking up the beach. The road that led to where Balamb Garden used to be had fallen out of use; weeds and grass had overtaken it, and in some places it was badly cracked. Still, it was the safest route into Balamb. For four hours they walked, without incident, until they reached the gates of Balamb.
Balamb had not changed much; a few new buildings had sprung up here and there, but the familiar landmarks were still there. The Balamb Hotel, the train station, and the docks were still there. The streets were quiet, save for the passing residents.
“Squall, can I go see Ma?” Zell asked, jabbing Squall in the arm lightly.
Squall checked his watch, and relented. “Go on,” he said, waving him off. “We’ll be at the Balamb Hotel tonight; we leave in the morning. Just don’t be too late in getting there, okay?”
Zell grinned. “No prob!” With a cocky wave, he dashed down the street, and vanished into his mother’s house.
“Squall, I need to go to the Weapons Shop,” Irvine declared. “I’m running low on rounds for my gun.” He held Exeter up to the sunlight. “I want to keep a couple of full clips with me at all times.” He cracked open the chamber, and inspected the rounds already in there.
“Go ahead, be my guest.”
“I’ll go with him,” Quistis said, crossing her arms, and waving one hand as she was prone to doing. “The lashing around the hilt of my whip is coming undone. I’d best get it fixed.” She turned and followed Irvine down the street, shaking her head as he stopped to make a pass at a resident.
Squall stopped, and turned around. It was just he and Rinoa. He suddenly had the idea that this wasn’t a coincidence. He was almost sure that this was planned. Almost. He hated this.
“Shall we check in, Squall?” Rinoa said cheerfully.
“Sure,” he said, turning for the Balamb Hotel. Rinoa held onto his arm the whole way, smiling and happy. And to some extent, Squall was happy too. He had finally discovered the side of him that he had always suppressed. As they walked through the double doors into the Balamb Hotel, the clerk at the counter looked up, smiling.
“Welcome to the lovely Balamb Hotel. Rooms are 100 gil a night.”
He stepped up to the counter. “I’ll need two rooms, for one night, please,” he said, sliding the money across the counter.
The woman tucked it away in her pocket. “Very well.” She ducked underneath the counter, and set two keys on the counter. “Your rooms are Rooms four and five, on the first floor.”   She looked back and forth between Rinoa and Squall. “Will you and the young lady be sharing a room tonight, sir?”
Squall flushed furiously. “Ah, ah, ah . . . ” he stuttered.
“Yes, of course,” Rinoa said, grabbing the keys before the clerk could react. “Thank you, miss.” She turned to Squall, who was covering his face with both hands. “Come on, Squall,” she said softly, grabbing his arm, and hauling him up the stairs.
“Thank you, Rinoa,” Squall said as he unlocked the door to their room.
“Oh, Squall, you don’t need to be so embarrassed by such as simple question,” she said lightly. “Or does the subject of women embarrass you?”
He flushed again. “Of course not!”
“Your cheeks are turning red again,” she said, turning to go inspect the beds.
He sighed, and walked out onto the balcony. “Irvine, Zell, where are you guys,” he whispered. “I could sure use some of that male advice right about now.”
A shriek caught his attention. In the street below, Zell was roaring along on his spare T-board, skimming off walls, lampposts, street signs, benches, and the like. He raced up the side of one wall, somersaulted in midair, and hit the board just as it slid back to the ground. Still doing aerial acrobatics, he sped up and kept going at an impressive speed. Zell zipped past the Balamb Hotel, and disappeared behind the curve. A few seconds later, a tall fountain of water gushed skyward over the buildings next to the port. He chuckled, as he heard shouts of vile words coming from the docks, and howls of laughter.
The night was a relatively quiet one; though the Balamb fish was excellent, everyone seemed to have lost their appetites. Even Zell, when he straggled back to the Hotel, minus his T-board, and soaking wet besides. After dinner, it was a struggle to decide who to pair each other up with. Rinoa was adamant on bedding down in the same room as Squall; Quistis decided to join them. That left Irvine and Zell in a room by themselves, and that spelled trouble. Squall lay awake for hours listening to those two argue over a card game that Zell had won. When he finally drifted off to sleep, he was rudely awakened by Quistis throwing a pillow at him, complaining in her sleep about his snoring. He crawled out of bed, and busted into Irvine and Zell’s room, commandeered a bed, and promptly fell asleep.
The morning was a hellish one. Breakfast was served promptly at seven, and was quickly devoured; everyone seemed to have regained their appetites. Eggs, ham, corned beef hash, and toast, with orange juice and coffee settled well with everyone, and by eight, they were out of the Hotel, heading towards the port.
The ship was there; a monstrosity that defied all description. The Esthar fast-attack transport was a long, slender design with low sides, and teak decks. There was no deck structure, save for a bridge on the afterdeck. It vaguely reminded Squall of the White SeeD ship, right down to the furled sails on the afterdeck. The captain came on deck, dressed as a Galbadian military official. Squall groaned.
“Welcome aboard my ship, the Atago!” the captain shouted across the deck. “How can I serve you fine people, today?”
Squall stepped forward, saluting. “Captain, we are the SeeD team currently being dispatched to Esthar to work on a case under President Laguna.” He gestured to the rest of his team. “This is Irvine Kinneas,” he said, pointing to Irvine, who waved. “Quistis Trepe,” he pointed out. She smiled. “There is Zell Dincht,” he said, pointing to Zell, who scratched the back of his head. “And this,” he said, pointing to Rinoa, “is Rinoa Heartilly.”
The Captain smiled, and bowed. “The Great Hyne’s Descendent honors me with her presence,” he said formally. “All of you, welcome aboard my ship, the Atago. Make yourselves at home; if you want it, ask for it. If you need it, it will be provided.” With a gesture towards the stern, he pointed out the stairs leading below. “I have prepared your staterooms for the trip, if you would care to inspect them, we will be under way momentarily.”
“Thank you Captain,” Quistis said sweetly. “I would like that.”
“Yeah, me too,” Zell and Irvine said.
Zell tapped Squall on the shoulder. “I’ll take your bags below, if you want, Squall,” he offered. Squall handed Zell his bag, and Rinoa handed Irvine hers. Bearing double the weight of normal, Zell and Irvine staggered towards the stern, following Quistis.
“I’m sorry Captain, I didn’t quite catch your name,” Rinoa started.
The man seemed taken aback. “I apologize, Miss Heartilly. My name is Auld Konavalov. From Esthar,” he said, smiling. He clapped his hands together. “Now, if you will excuse me, I must make preparations for casting off.” With a bow, he turned, and clamored up the ladder to the bridge.
“An intriguing man,” Squall said laconically.
“But polite,” Rinoa said cheerfully.
From across the harbor, a tall man with short blond hair watched the two on the deck of the transport with a pair of binoculars. He lowered them after a while, and dropped them around the cord hanging around his neck. With a sigh, he sat back down in his chair, and picked up his fishing pole again.
“Seifer, I caught another fish, ya know?!” his compatriot shouted from across the dock.
Seifer looked up, to see Raijin dancing about the dock, a large Balamb-fish hanging from his fishing pole. Fujin, still standing at attention beside him, groaned. “IDIOT,” she said under her breath.
“No kidding,” Seifer said, watching his cork float bob about in the waves. “Wonder why all the fish swim to his pole and not mine?” he mumbled to himself.
“RAIJIN. FOOL. STUPID FISH LIKE STUPID COMPANY.”
Seifer laughed long and hard. “Yes, yes that’s true,” he said, laughing. He shrugged off his grey trenchcoat, and sat back in his fishing chair. “Fishing gets boring after a while, doesn’t it Fujin? I mean, I never catch anything, you don’t fish, and Raijin catches them all.”
“NEVER BORING WITH SEIFER,” she intoned gravely.
“Yes, well,” he started, but gave up with a sigh. “You guys are the greatest, you know? I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.” Across the docks, Raijin was still dancing about on the dock with his fish, which was by now looking a little worse for wear. “Do me a favor,” he said, looking up at Fujin.
“WHAT?”
He looked back at Raijin. “Go kick him into the water again, please?”
She nodded. “AFFIRMATIVE.” Two minutes later, Seifer had the pleasure of seeing Fujin plant her Size 8 Clodhopper in Raijin’s backside, and Raijin topple into the water. He busted out laughing as the Balamb-fish began to thrash around, beating Raijin in the face. Raijin pulled himself onto the dock, dripping wet, and fighting mad. Fujin had beat a hasty retreat, and when Raijin finally got the gist of who had kicked him into the water, Seifer and Fujin were long gone.
In the Wilburn Hills of Galbadia, few people ever ventured. The Wilburn Hills were unremarkable. They held no precious minerals, and were of poor value as a tourist attraction. For the most part, the Wilburn Hills were forgotten by man, save for a few hardy souls who made their homes among its rocky crags. There was an old legend surrounding Wilburn Hills. Legend had it that a race of beings, which floated among the clouds in ships of fanciful design had made their home there a hundred years ago. While most logical people deigned it as a rumor, a myth for occultists and fanatics to latch onto, the rumors were not entirely false.
Evgeni Sigismondavich walked along the balcony that spanned the entire length of the facility Sorceress Lahliel had built into the side of the cliffs of Wilburn Hills. This was truly the only time that he felt alone, by himself. A hundred meters below him, waves crashed onto the breakers, and slid back hissing into the seas. A good two hundred meters above him, a rock ledge shielded the balcony from prying eyes. A stiff wind blew his straight black hair back from his eyes, revealing a face pinched at the corners by pain. His eyes were hard and cold, filled with sadness, and longing. Strapped to his back was his sword, a night-blackened blade he called Palaidon.
“I hate this existence,” he muttered to himself, leaning against the stone railing. He sighed, and rested his head on the cool stone railing.
“Sir?” a voice came from behind him.
He lifted his head, and turned to see a Galbadian officer standing there, saluting. “What do you want, Major?” he snapped. The man gulped, but didn’t back down.
“Sorceress Lahliel, sir. She requests your presence immediately in her chambers, sir.”
“Very well,” he said, standing upright. “Report to the Gate Room, Major.”
“Yes sir,” he said, and scurried down the balcony. Evgeni watched the man go, then he himself pushed aside a door, and entered the facility. For a facility practically thrown together, it was surprisingly well-built. The halls were of white steel, the floors carpeted. The computer systems were modern, and worked well. The lighting was sufficient, and living accommodations decent. But what made the facility worth maintaining was the Gate, and the fact that it was secluded. Nobody came to the Wilburn Hills, not even to climb the rocky crags and windswept cliffs. Evgeni Sigismondavich turned a corner, and walked down a long hallway towards a large pair of double doors. When he reached the doors, he sighed heavily, and pushed the doors open.
He hated this room. Evgeni Sigismondavich hated this room to the heavens. The soldiers had nicknamed it The Halls of Wailing Repose, and for good reason. Sorceress Lahliel’s ‘acquisitions’ were displayed here. If there were any other way to get to his Sorceress’s chambers, he would take it; but there was no other way. It was a foolish gesture; she wanted to flaunt her power, but Evgeni saw it only as a foolish gesture. The room was at least twenty meters long, and six wide. And every corner of it was packed with crystal statues. They were arranged on pedestals of black marble, in poses that screamed of agony, rage, fear, hatred, and dozens of different emotions. This room made his blood curdle.
There was a woman, in an evening dress, looking as though she was just going to the movies. She had no inkling of what had hit her. There was the most recent acquisition, Eldrene Kerenmosa. He paused for a moment, to run a hand along the pedestal. There was another, a kindly woman, who had been caught unaware. He ran the mental calculations. There were at least a hundred women in this room, all crystal statues. The thought disgusted him. And there were spaces for at least a hundred more statues; he had no doubt that before Sorceress Lahliel was done, this room would be filled and emptied ten times over. He ran through the Halls of Wailing Repose, until he reached the large slab of silver, worked in gold and precious stones that led to Sorceress Lahliel’s chambers. She had arranged for it to be like this; not a soul but one with the power of a sorceress could enter or exit. He laid a hand against the slab, and mentally pushed the molecules of gold and silver aside. He walked through the watery mist of the door, into the room beyond.
Sorceress Lahliel lay relaxed in a chair of silks and velvet, suspended from the ceiling. The ceiling was a dome, painted in friezes of stars, comets, nebulae, and other grand cosmic events. The name for this chamber was The Chamber of Falling Stars; it was his name for her chambers, and if it lacked inventiveness, who cared? Lahliel and he were the only ones ever to see the interior of the room.
Lahliel raised her head, and smiled with black painted lips. “Evgeni,” she said softly. “You have arrived at last.”
He bowed, down on one knee, and one hand on the floor. “My Sorceress,” he said gravely, then stood. “You have summoned me?”
“Yes, Evgeni,” she said, standing. She glided forward until she was right in front of him. He still had to look down to her. “I have often missed hearing you play the piano for me. Will you play for me, now, my love?”
He smiled acidly. “Of course, my Sorceress.” He pushed aside some curtains, and hung them on tiny hooks, revealing an alcove, large enough for the piano he so loved to play. As he sat down, he set his sword against the wall, and flexed his fingers. As he began to play a haunting melody, he let his fingers flow across the ivory keys, and lost himself in his music. He felt deep contentment as he played. His fingers danced across the keys, plucking, tapping, and pressing the sweetened ivory keys. He played for his Sorceress, who sat in her chair, relaxing to the sweet melody of his music, and sipping from a glass of wine.
Still, even as he played, he was still not completely at rest. The memory of the taking of Eldrene Kerenmosa was still fresh in his mind. He hated it. He hated Sorceress Lahliel for doing it to an innocent woman. He hated himself for simply watching it happen, and doing nothing. He hated Hyne for ever giving such power to humanity.
For hours on end, he played sweet tunes, haunting ones, gentle and fast-paced ones, until at long last, Sorceress Lahliel raised a hand. He stopped, rose, and bowed. “If my Sorceress will allow it, there is a certain matter I must attend to in the Gate room.”
She sat up, and set her wineglass to one side. “What matter might you have to attend to, Evgeni dear?”
“The Major who informed me of your summons is standing guard duty at my orders. I must inform him that he is to be relieved.” He grabbed his sword, and slung it across his back again. “If I may have your leave, Angelique?”
She smiled at him. “Go now, my Knight. Return quickly.” She pointed to the door.
With a smile, he pushed the molecules of the door aside, and stepped back into the Halls of Wailing Repose. He felt his blood begin to chill again. He walked among the crystal statues, bathing in his self-pity. He stopped at Eldrene Kerenmosa’s statue. Her wide eyes looked out lifelessly, her mouth wide open in a last attempt to scream for help. Her long slender fingers forever stilled by the transformation, she would never move again, without a sorceress to release the change. He rested his forehead against her midriff, and felt a tear come to his eye. He never wanted this to happen. He slid to his knees, resting his head on her crystal shoes, crying. He wept for them all, those who were doomed by what they were. They were all sorceresses, and they would all die, their powers consumed by Sorceress Lahliel, as she strove to conquer this world. But he also felt rage. Unquenchable rage that could only be put out by seeing these women freed, and Sorceress Lahliel locked away from the world forever. As he wiped his eyes, and stood, the plan began to form in his mind. He would bring ruin to Sorceress Lahliel, and save himself from damnation. He strode out of the Halls of Wailing Repose, and down the passageway to the Gate room.
“Damn her,” was all he could say as he ground out his hatred.
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