 | | | |
 | | ||
 |  |  | |
 | | ||
 | | ||
 | | ||
 | | ||
 | | ||
 | | ||
At
an Arm's Length
A Final Fantasy VIII Story
by
Aligator
Chapter 12 - Wish You Were Here
The sun beat down with an intensity that seemed otherworldly. I guess you could consider Time Compression another world, of sorts, Seifer thought as he continued to trudge through the barren wasteland that stretched unendingly before him.
Keep moving.
He had been walking for hours and hours. For all he knew, he could be walking in circles. The damn wind keeps blowing and shifting the sand dunes around. No supplies. No canteen with water. No meal rations. Not even a handkerchief that he could use to prevent himself from breathing in the granules and particles flying furiously through the air.
Keep moving.
He was alone. I *deserve* to be alone. Even Raijin and Fujin finally left me. It figures that bitch Ultimicia would leave me alone, now. Now that she’s probably achieved her goals. I *am* a lapdog. I wasn’t strong enough to resist her. She used me, and now I’ve been tossed aside. Like garbage.
If his eyes could have formed tears, he would have cried. I’ve hurt so many people. I killed innocents. The people I wanted to protect.
Keep moving.
Unconsciously, he was slowing down. His knees bent slightly as the wind pushed him from behind. Tightening his grip on Hyperion, he drove its blade into sand in front of him, just as the wind finally blasted him.
As he fell, face-forward, his eyes were blinded by harsh sunlight reflecting off of the dunes that surrounded him.
Quistis.
Cool hands brushed his bangs from his forehead, prompting him to open his eyes.
“Shh.”
It’s so bright, but through his squinting eyes, he made out blond hair and those eyes, those blue eyes. “Quistis,” he muttered, this time attempting to grasp her hand. Am I hallucinating? Am I finally dead?
“Quistis –”
“Shh. Don’t talk. You don’t need to. . .”
She’s trying to calm me down. She looks so scared. What is *she* doing here? All she ever did was try to help me. I know this now. I can’t do anything. Wait.
Seifer took a raspy breath. “No. I have to . . . apology. . .”
“Shh.”
Her eyes are welling up with the tears I can’t cry. I’ve done this to you. It’s all that I can say now. All that I can do – “Sorry.”
The tears that had been threatening to stream down Quistis’ face hit Seifer’s cheek as she gathered him up the best she could.
Cold. Her tears are cold, he wondered, using the last of his strength to return her embrace. I don’t want you to be here. You shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry, Quistis. So sorry.
A bright blue light surrounded them and ripped them from each other. When Seifer opened his eyes next, he was surrounded by darkness and a mist.
Where am I? Where’d she go? He instinctively rose and squinted for a better view of the light that was in the distance. A woman’s figure was silhouetted against it, and she was looking down. He started to run toward it. It looks familiar. Is it someone I know? He continued running. As he drew closer, he realized that they were on a cliff of some sort and the figure, with a hood now drawn over her head, was teetering on the edge.
“No,” Seifer said softly, fear rising from his chest into his throat. “Don’t do it. Please.”
The figure turned away from him, as if she didn’t hear or see him.
And just stepped off.
****
“NOOOOO!” Seifer bolted upright in his bed, tossing aside the now sweat-soaked sheets.
“Another dream, Almasy. It’s just another dream.” The last part is, anyway. Damn. It’s a good thing I’m next door to Rai and Fu and not living with them. This racket could wake the dead. He made his way to the bathroom to towel off, smirking to himself grimly. I might as well be considered dead.
Now armed with a glass of water, he wandered over to his kitchen table, lit a candle and opened up the journal.
So, Teach. You should be pleased with yourself. Youngest SeeD grad, you’ve set another record: I can’t honestly say I’ve dreamt about *any* girl for a week straight before.
He put the pen to his mouth before he half-realized he was about to chew it. At least I know you made it out of Time Compression alive. You’re one of the “great heroes.” It’s better than being on my end of things. I bet Puberty Boy is hating all of this attention.
I saw a picture of you in the newspaper a few months ago – a shot from when you stopped that assassination attempt in Timber. You looked sad. I mean, you’ve always looked kind of serious, but – he looked up for a moment, searching for the right words – this was different. You know, Quisty, I may have teased and tortured you throughout our childhood. I may have picked on you when you were my instructor. But I never *really* wanted you to be unhappy.
Don’t become like me.
He sat there for a few minutes, staring at the words he had written, before his head snapped up. He blew out the candle, and the patented, Seifer-self-preservation instinct kicked in. “Get a grip, Almasy.”
As he put the journal back into its hiding place, he wistfully grinned to himself. This reminds me of “the post office.”
He settled into bed. She never did pick up what I left for her. Maybe. . .
someday. . . I’ll go back and see if it’s still there.
*****
It was four in the morning, and Quistis had awakened from a fitful sleep only to find moonlight, nearly as bright as a streetlight, streaming through the window and hitting her smack in the face. She got up from her sleeping bag, careful not to wake up Ellone and Selphie. Wait, correct that, Selphie’s not here. I’ll bet she’s with Irvine, her mouth quirked.
The view from Edea’s house was amazing, and it was made even more so by moonlight. It looks… otherworldly, she thought as she stood drowsily by the window and wrapped the blanket she had thrown over her shoulders more tightly around herself. A soft blue glow began to shine around her, and quietly, in a trancelike state, she left the room and proceeded to walk down the stairs.
She exited the structure through the door and porch that opened out onto the beach, not noticing the couple snuggled up on the swing.
Irvine shifted in his half-aware state, careful not to wake Selphie, when he saw a luminous figure move past their not-so-tucked away space. “Quistis?” he muttered softly, thinking it was a dream, and fell back asleep.
She made her way along the beach, following a long-forgotten path to the caves. The third one to her left – one that still had a view of the water. Her hand traced the structure’s wall, until her fingers found a natural cubby hole worn into the stone by the elements.
As the blue light started to fade away, Quistis sank toward the floor and, still wrapped in her blanket, fell into an even deeper state of sleep.
To
be continued. . .
Next week: Chapter 13 – Games Children Play
Back
to the Top of This Page
Next Chapter
Official Disclaimer: AT
AN ARM'S LENGTH © 2002-2004 A.L. Roberts.
FINAL FANTASY VIII © Squaresoft. They own these characters,
I’m
just borrowing them for a little bit. Buy their games, and give them your
money!
PROJECT
SURLY GIRL.COM
and all contents within, unless otherwise designated,
© 2002-2004 A.L. Roberts.
The contents of this site may not be modified, published, transmitted or exploited in any way without prior written consent. Direct all inquiries here.
