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At
an Arm's Length
A Final Fantasy VIII Story
by
Aligator
Chapter 18 - A Shot in the Dark, Part II
The clock blinked. 9 p.m.
It’s still early, Quistis thought hazily as she raised herself into a sitting position. I was so tired when I got back from the library. . . I can barely think straight.
Stumbling out of bed, she tripped on her briefcase, taking the books she had checked out with her to the cluttered floor. She grinned ruefully, while reaching blindly toward the small table near her desk. Thank God I didn’t squash my glasses.
That’s better. She brushed her hair away from her face, adjusted her frames and surveyed the mess. The mysterious book from the library lay open. Shifting slightly, she reached for it and gently caressed its ancient pages as she brought it to her lap.
It had fallen open to the beginning of a story whose title caused her to unconsciously frown, just slightly. The Blue Fairy.
The illustrations show a glow. This seems familiar. . . Maybe it was a story that we heard at the orphanage. Maybe Irvine or Selphie remembers it?
Now fully awake, she hoisted herself up and headed – for the first time in a long time, with resolve – to find some answers. Hopefully.
*****
Irvine exhaled in frustration. “But Matron. . .”
“Irvine. Selphie. I know you’re both trying to help, but we can’t. No, we shouldn’t force this issue. She’ll remember when she’s supposed to remember.”
“Matron,” Selphie pleaded, on the verge of tears. “Quistis is our best friend, and I know I would want to know if I were in her place. I’d feel betrayed that everyone knew something vital about me. I’d feel as if they were hiding –”
“NO!” Edea said, again, firmly. “I’ve discussed it with Ellone. It’s best this way.”
“But how?” Irvine challenged her.
The former sorceress looked at the young man whose face was now an unreadable mask.
“Matron, we’re not suggesting that we tell her outright.” He continued calmly, “We want to give her an early birthday gift. It just happens to be one that might jog her memory.”
“Children. We’ve been through this. I forbid you to –” Edea halted mid-sentence.
Selphie and Irvine were staring over her shoulder, wide-eyed at the door and the latecomer to their rather heated discussion. Before she turned around, she heard a soft voice that spoke volumes.
Of disappointment. Of sadness. Of confusion.
“Why?”
The young woman at the center of their disagreement, one Quistis Trepe, leaned against the door jam as though she thought it would give her strength. The glare of the room’s lighting on her glasses prevented them from seeing her eyes.
Again, the quiet voice questioned, “Why? Why. . . didn’t you tell me?”
The book she had been cradling in her left arm crashed to the floor, but she was still clutching what looked to be a faded photograph.
The tears that had been threatening to fall from Selphie’s eyes for the last hour and a half started to roll with abandon down her cheeks when she realized what Quistis was holding. It was on my desk. . . for safekeeping until her birthday. . . Oh, Hyne. I’m sorry, Quistis.
Irvine’s hand found its way to Selphie’s, his fingers lacing through hers. He turned slowly to Matron. How are you going to explain this now?
Before the older woman had a chance, Quistis was gone.
Without histrionics, or even a sob. She’s gone. Edea turned to face the accusatory eyes of the children she raised. In a moment, they will be gone, too.
As Irvine picked up Quistis’ forgotten book, he looked at her sorrowfully. “This is what I was afraid would happen.” Selphie squeezed his hand, and he turned to leave, gently closing the door to Edea’s office behind them.
Irvine’s blue eyes met Selphie’s green ones briefly, before he pulled her into an embrace and leaned in at an odd angle to bury his face in her comforting shoulder. “If only we had been allowed to give it a shot. . .”
To
be continued. . .
Next week: Chapter 19 – Ghost of a Chance
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AT AN ARM'S LENGTH © 2002-2004 A.L.
Roberts.
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