FicWad

Prologue

Time, stretched out, looping around, squished flat, to be pulled taut again and again and again. She saw it all and lived it all, all of eternity in a moment.


In the next moment, flowers. A field of flowers, as far as she could see, although she couldn’t concentrate in this place any better than the other place. She could feel Him though, in her heart, looking for her.


“I’ll be waiting,” she said to the wind that sounded of her mother’s favorite song. “So, come and find me.”


Hours lasted for minutes or perhaps lingering to days, as she waits for her Love to come. Sometimes, she grew weary of waiting, and she attempted to venture out of the meadow, but her lungs would fill with hot air and she’d break out in a sweat. Rinoa, that was her name and a name shouldn’t be so hard to hold on to, sits and pulls petals off the flowers, always ending with ‘He loves me.’


Suddenly, gradually, she wasn’t alone. A voice behind her said, “I heard you calling.”


Yellow petals float through her fingers, off and away into the sunlight. She was fairly certain this woman wasn’t her Knight, but somehow still not an intruder, and it would be rude not to respond. “I’m waiting for someone.”


“I know,” the woman said. “I heard you calling. And while this is an ideal place to wait for someone, I think you’d be better off searching yourself. Perhaps he’s waiting for you.”


It took a few days, hours, minutes, moments, before Rinoa could understand the words, and even then it was kind tone that made the most impression. She plucked one more flower, a blue one that made her smile. “Thank you, Mother. You always were very wise.”

She stood up, brushing off her duster. She turned around and time solidified, the flowers melted away and Rinoa Heartily, daughter of Julia Caraway, Sorceress, found herself on a craggy rock which floated amidst other craggy rocks, alone in the universe save a pony-tailed woman in pink.

“You aren’t my mother.”


“No. At least not yet,” the woman replied, jauntily pushing Rinoa off the rock into the void. “Go on then, make me proud.”

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Chapter 1


Zell pushed himself up and groggily looked around at the red barren cliffs. Hyne, what did he do last night?


Through slatted eyes, he saw Selphie awake to his left, also clutching her head. There was a brief moment of irrational panic, before a groan on his other side revealed a Seifer that was worse for the wear. Duh, Zell, you guys just trashed his ass in Time Compression!


Thoughts were coming together now, storming Ultimeca’s castle, Time Kompression, and then nothing but that weird nowhere space. Zell looked around and counted. Squall was here, but no Rinoa.


“Quistis?” The word stuck in his throat, barely a whisper, before Zell was brought down to coughing. Selphie had a hand on him, rubbing his back and cooing softly. Seifer got to his feet and told her cast Cure.


“I’m not hurt, jerk,” Zell wheezed. “Just thirsty.” Seifer’s potion bounced off his head.


“We need to find civilization.” Seifer’s voice, though weak, always held an air of confidence. He strode over and lent a hand to Squall, helping him up. Potions were passed around.


Zell rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right, let’s just find a nice little café that’ll cater to a bunch of dirty, beat up teenagers, and, oh yeah, the freakin’ Sorceress Knight!” He threw his hands up and stalked over to poke Seifer in the chest. “I say we ditch this traitor and look for Quisty and Irvine and Rinoa. They’ve got to be around here, right? I mean, she wouldn’t just drop us all off in different places, right?” Zell’s constant motion faltered for a second, and no one would meet his eyes. “Right, guys?”


Seifer took a few steps out of the close circle they’d made, looking around. “Sorry to break it to you, Chickenwuss,” Zell opened his mouth to interrupt, and Selphie made a quick grab to still him, “but I don’t think we’re in Galbadia anymore, if you know what I mean.”


“Red rocks. Centra?” asked Squall. He and Seifer were both rubbing their matching scars absently, and watching the two of them together was just weird. Weren’t they supposed to be fighting, or something? Zell looked around too, tried to make it fit with all the places he’d been, but the scenery remained unfamiliar.

The sun was high, perhaps midday, but there seemed to be a haze in the air, and the scenery wasn't very bright. Maybe if Zell squinted, maybe then it looked like the dusty Centra wastelands, but the group was surrounded by sharp drop-offs and cliffs, which were so unlike the smooth mountainsides he'd grown up in. After all the traveling, the quests and requests Garden and Squall had sent them off on, Zell was presented with an entirely new landscape, and it would have been way awesome exciting, say, a week from now.

“No. If it’s Centra, then we don’t have any hope of finding civilization, but there’s some mountains over there, in the distance, and tire-tracks all over the place.” Seifer paused for a second, mouth open a bit.


“There are draw points-” started Squall, but Seifer held up a hand, silencing him. Zell’s eyes narrowed, but Squall just popped out a hip to lean.


“Do you hear that?” whispered Seifer. Zell exchanged worried glances with Selphie, who was twirling her fingers around her head in subtle, he’s crazy, motions. Squall just frowned.


“I hear Siren, telling me about the draw points that are practically everywhere.”


Seifer broke out into a smile, his eyes wide, and started laughing. He ran back over to the group, and Selphie and Zell quickly took a few steps back, each trying to hide behind the other. Seifer grabbed Squall by the shoulders, shaking him as the younger boy cringed at the touch.


“I can’t hear anything!” Seifer crowed, “Get that Squall? She’s gone, Hyne, She’s gone, She’s gone.” He collapsed into himself, giggling and wrapping his arms around Squall, face pressed into his midsection. He glanced desperately at the other two for help. Zell just shrugged while Selphie tried to quell her own laughing in front of him. Squall settled on awkwardly patting Seifer on the head.


Squall cleared his throat, and using his Commander voice, said, “We need to find shelter. And you should be junctioned.” He carefully pried Seifer from him, guiding the other boy to the ground. Seifer was still murmurring to himself on the ground, but he sat with his arms open, his coat pillowed around him and made no move to draw Hyperion. Zell couldn't help feeling a little pity for the jerk- Time Compression must have hit him the hardest. “What junctions do you two have? I’ve only Shiva, Siren, and Bahamut.” Squall addressed to Selphie and Zell.


“That bastard ain’t getting Quez. And there’s no way he’s got enough compatibility with Eden to take her.” No way in heck was that mess getting any of his junctions.


Selphie was more obliging. “I’ve got Brothers and Ifrit. He could probably have Ifrit without too much trouble.” Selphie smiled shyly, and Zell could see the relief in Squall. They were resourceful mercenaries, trained from youth. Quistis and Irvine could take care of Rinoa, and they’d all go back to Balamb, and Seifer would be reinstated because even though he’s an ass he’s one of them, and then Zell could take a long vacation. With booze.


Selphie took a step forward and held her hand out to Seifer, who, by his blank look, hadn’t been paying attention. “It’s Ifrit, for you to junction.”


Seifer came back to coherency, brows coming together in anger. “No way. I’ve got Hyperion, I’m fine. There’s no way I’m letting something else murmur sweet nothings in my ear, not after her.”


Squall sighed, “Seifer, take the Guardian. For all we know, this could be hostile territory.” Perhaps to prove his point, two jelly-fish type monsters popped up from the ground.


“Looks like a Glacial Eye, almost,” muttered Squall.


“No ice magic!” Seifer commanded, on his feet at the first sign of danger, and he charged one, slashing with Hyperion but missing the trigger. The blob struggled, almost dead.


“Watch for Vampire,” Squall motioned for Zell to attack the second as he charged a Fira spell.


Zell dashed forward, a three hit combo, and as he pulled back, he saw Selphie pull her nunchaku tight, casting a Thunder on the first. There was a deafening crack in the air. Lightning and fire spells released on the pair at the same time. Zell’s blob went down in flames, but the other floated back up, better than ever.


“Absorbs lightning! Since when?” shrieked Selphie. Zell bounced for another shot at the thing, when a fireball from the sky made them all step back.


The explosion left a silence, stillness. Out from behind a cliff a man in goggles and leather took soft steps. Zell watched how he moved, and knew that even that light tread had to be intentional, giving himself away on purpose. The man had grace, but more to the point he had a huge sword in one hand, looking like he knew how to use it.


Zell flicked his eyes to his other teammates. Seifer and Squall held their swords out- Squall still and tensed, Seifer loose and swaying. Ready to charge, Zell thought, and got on defense. Selphie had taken a defensive position too, nunchaku close, but bouncing on her toes.


The man pulled the sword up, twirling it above his head, light glinting off the edge and it was dangerous and really cool. The other two swordsmen hunched in prep for a lunge, but it seemed the man was just putting the giant sword away on a sheath on his back. None of the Garden students let up their guard, although Seifer and Squall went to defense positions themselves.


“They’re called Crown Lance. Weak against fire, but resistant to earth and absorbs lightning.” The man stopped walking a few feet away from them, and nodded in greeting. “Cloud Strife.”


Zell had gotten used to letting Squall lead, but Squall was doing his mental communication thing with Seifer, so he took a glance at Selphie, who just gestured to Squall again. After a few beats, the scar twins quit their staring contest, and Squall holstered his weapon to step forward towards the man.


He held out his hand to the stranger. “Squall Leonheart, of Balamb Garden.” They shook hands for a good minute, and it was about as effective as any pissing contest. Seifer, in the back still, scoffed.


“Balamb. Never heard of it. But Cosmo Canyon’s just around the way.” Cloud said, jerking his head in the general direction of the way he came, away from the mountains. He started off, seemingly assuming they would follow.


Squall looked back at the group. Seifer had sheathed Hyperion and was frowning thoughtfully to himself. Selphie glanced from one to the next in silent question. Zell just shrugged, and started off past Squall after the man, and she followed him. They'd trusted creepier strangers before, at least guy was human, and Zell still felt he was owed a nap sometime soon.


He skipped up to walk just behind that Cloud, before Squall yelled out, "Wait!"


“Have you seen a girl, about 5’ 4’’, dark black hair with blonde streaks?” Squall asked. Cloud glanced down in thought, but shook blond spikes in a negative.


“How about a taller woman with a whip, blonde hair, goes by Quistis? Or a gunman, cowboy type called Irvine?” Squall sounded desperate, and Seifer came out of his funk to put a hand on his shoulder.


Zell followed Squall’s hopeful gaze back to Cloud, who still shook his head.


“I’m sorry.” He really did sound sorry, even though it wasn’t his fault, and Zell felt a little guilty heaping their problems onto others. “But, I’ve got a lot of friends, and we can help you find yours. I’m sure of it.” It seemed like Cloud said this last bit to himself, nodding sharply at the vow.


“Well then, see? We’ll find my ex and I’ll let you date her, so quit pouting, Puberty Boy. You might not die a virgin yet.” Seifer took his hand off Squall’s shoulder to open his arms out to the sides magnanimously, but hooking them around Selphie and Zell’s necks as he passed them. He leaned down to their level, so that their three heads were in a row.


“Watch him.” He commanded, squeezing their throats a bit before releasing and standing up. Zell threw him off, and the older man strode over to stand by Cloud, staring at them pointedly. The rest followed, Squall bringing up the rear, and the five made their way to Cosmo Canyon.


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It wasn’t yet dark, but the fire still roared. Chicken and Messenger girl ran ahead like they’d never seen fire before, the kids. Seifer stayed back with Squall and the stranger, Cloud Strife.


Strife carried a sword, a broadsword, if Seifer wasn’t mistaken. An antique. They wouldn’t let him use a sword at Garden. His gunblade was magically enhanced to fire an explosion down the length; the pistol attachment needed no bullets, and practically doubled the attack power. Superior, they’d told him, makes all other swords obsolete. But there was a different style put to play there, the angle of the hilt offsetting his grip and weakening his blows, hindering the attack agility. Seifer wanted to fight against a real swordsman to compare. He wondered for a moment if this Strife character could attack one-handed.


Mostly though, he wondered who the hell this swordsman Strife was, that Seifer hadn’t heard of him. Or where the hell they were, that Seifer hadn’t been there before. Or how long they’d been sitting in this shit-hole middle of nowhere that they hadn’t heard of Seifer Almasy.


Not that he’d been stupid enough to risk arrest (execution) by announcing his name to the world, but there were only so many people that could stand to hang around Squall. And they had to know Squall Leonheart, Savior of the World, Heir to Esthar, Commander of Balamb Garden, et dammed cetera. Even in throw-back Centra, he was a hero.


Squall, depressed as always, was probably thinking about Rinoa when they should be getting back to Balamb, which this country boy Strife (who looked more like a Chocobo than Chickenwuss, and about the same lack-of-height, remarkably) hadn’t ever even heard of. And…





And nothing. Seifer closed his eyes, tuning out the others, and thought about nothing. His posture relaxed in the unfamiliar place and he didn’t notice Cloud watching him closely. There are no voices, no compulsions to do her work, and the overwhelming love he’s had for Her feels like a dream.


They could be in the Cactuar Desert, wasting away under the deathly bright sun, wallowing in heat, listening to Zell’s clucking and Squall’s moaning and Quistis’ bossiness for the rest of time, and Seifer would laugh. So, here in this stupid Cannonball Canyon, Seifer threw back his head and laughed.


It was a big laugh, and he wrapped his arms around his sides, fell on his ass, laid back to roll on the ground, registered the sensation of a toe nudging his side, but none of it stopped him. He must’ve laughed forever, and it probably would never be enough to voice his relief.


Eventually though, he sat upright. Seifer wiped his eyes and looked up at the Chicken and Ice Princess and that girl, Selphie, who always seemed to be around and he remembered her, remembered them all from way, way back in the orphanage, remembered what a jerk he was even then. Such a good feeling. Stranger was there too, left hand hanging down to help him get up.


He smiled, deliriously happy, like he’d been hit with Aura and Haste and Holy all at once. “I love you guys.”


And their faces! Chickenwuss looked so scared, and Selphie was biting her lip, and Squall’s half-smile, like that time they’d mixed Great remains into the school oatmeal and everyone was going on about how much better it tasted.


His grin threatened to overflow, so he grabbed Strife’s hand, and fainted.


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It wasn’t as idyllic as it sounded, being stuck in the middle of nowhere with two beautiful women.


Irvine sighed, adjusted his holster. It was hot, desert for miles around. Quistis wouldn’t let him take off his shirt, but he’d been carrying his coat, at least.


Quistis was nearby, taking stock of their magic and GF, busying herself with meaningless tasks.


“Quisty, give a guy a break, a quick water spell, please.” Irvine tried the puppy-dog eyes again, but as it hadn’t worked the last three times, he wasn’t too expectant this time either.


“Please Irvine, just stop it. We can’t waste spells, we don’t know where we are, or where the nearest town is. We need to conserve our resources. And you’ve got Leviathan junctioned, don’t you? There’s no reason for you to be thirsty.”


Leviathan couldn’t fight this heat, the wind whipping sand against him, but she was right about the thirst part. Quistis, with Pandemonia blowing about and Diablos’ unholy flame inside, probably had better cause to be uncomfortable than him, but she hadn’t even unzipped her top, just lost the long gloves. Shame, that.


So Irvine just sighed, and leaned back on his hands to stare at Rinoa.


The third member of their party hadn’t awakened, even though he and Quistis must’ve been up and about for hours, waiting. They’d tried a few Cure spells, and they made her shudder. A good shudder, though, Irvine had seen it often enough on others to tell. Phoenix Down, the ill smelling stuff, didn’t have much luck in bringing her around either. Quistis hadn’t been willing to cast anything dangerous on her, but she made herself bring the whip down on Rinoa a couple of times. Again, not as exciting as movies made it seem.


Rinoa lay in a rock crevice, as far in the shadows and shielded from the wind as possible, trying to make her comfortable. Twice now, her body had gone into convulsions, and had only quieted down when Irvine sprinkled some of his precious Holy Water over her body.


“The effects of Zombie,” recalled Quistis, “make the victim susceptible to attack by curative magics.”


“But we used Cure on her, and it didn’t hurt her. Could it be Curse?”


Quistis shook her head. “Curse wouldn’t leave her unconscious, just slow down her recovery rate, impede a second wind. And Holy Water would’ve cured both. Phoenix Down still doesn’t have any effect.”


So they waited, and when Quistis felt the wind die down to something manageable, Irvine would hoist the sleeping beauty on his back, and they’d trek off in, hopefully, the same direction they’d been trekking before. Irvine couldn’t tell for sure, but Quistis was in charge, rising to the challenge, and leading the way.


They’d encountered a few odd monsters, but nothing that couldn’t be defeated with a quick snap of the whip or default blast of Irvine’s shotgun. Quistis made care to pick up the pieces of flat glowing red papers. The papers read ‘Gil’ with different denominations, even though it was nothing like the multicolored coins of Gil they already had in ample supply. They left the flimsy armor that the monsters left behind; for one, it was too hot to wear, even if they were in the habit, and secondly, it was too much to carry, even for barter.


They walked during the night, too, deciding that it would be better to make time when it was cooler. Near midday the next day, he knocked into Quistis, sweaty and tired and hungry and not even meaning to cop a feel as he regained his balance.


She elbowed him back. “Shh… Do you hear it?” Of course not, since Quistis had danged Cerberus junctioned too, the mangy dog amplifying her hearing. But Irvine watched as her eyes widened, a smile wearily making its way across her face. She breathed out, “It’s the sea,” and started running.


Irvine ran too, legs pumping and the hot air burning his lungs and Rinoa sticking to his back as he jostled her about, trying to keep pace as best as he could.


The sand suddenly sloped up and gave way to soft green grass, hills and valleys and the occasional tree grove. Irvine wanted to lay back, roll in it, nap, watch clouds and butterflies, but he could hear Quistis in front of him, her shrieks of joy and laughter. He climbed to the top of a lush flowering hill, and watched her run across the beach, splashing in the water with all her clothes on, laying back to float. Hyne, she was beautiful.


Irvine took a deep breath, a moment to take everything in, when he felt a nuzzling against his hair. He tilted his head, and dark eyes open sluggishly. He shrugged a bit to jostle her before setting her down on the plush grass.


“Good morning, darling.”


“Irvy?” She blinked the sleepiness out of her eyes, and he prayed that just for a while, she could forget about everything that had been happening, because he doesn’t want to knock her out. But he’s a professional. If she goes hysterical, though, he knows what he has to do. So he smiled at her, and held out a hand.


“We’re all icky, darling, let’s go take a bath. I’ll wash your back, you wash mine?” He tipped his grin and she lit up and grabbed his hand even as she slapped his shoulder.


The two of them raced down the hill toward the beach, and Irvine pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt. Rinoa and Quistis get into a splash fight and as he waded in slowly they team against him too.


Beach and beautiful women. Throw in some food and booze, and it’s any man’s paradise. If they follow the coastline, they’ll find some civilization for sure.


The three of them bunkered down in a tent for the night, the short supply of rations shared around. They huddled together on the floor of the tent, him using his coat for a pillow, the other two using him. As long as Irvine didn’t think about Time Compression, or his friends, or what they’re going to do the next day, or how they’ll ever make it back to Galbadia from this unfamiliar place, or any other of the myriad of worries he has, he can be happy. So he pulled the sleeping girls closer to him and stuck his nose in Quistis’ hair as he fell asleep.



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Selphie shrieked as Seifer tumbled to the ground. Cloudy pulled the taller man up, and scooped him in his arms heroically, even though it seemed awkward. Seifer’s head was thrown back, mouth agape as he silently screamed, with Cloudy’s arms across his back and underneath his knees. The difference in size was absurd, but Cloudy handled the larger man with a sense like he’d done it before.


Squall had his eyes narrowed, gunblade drawn, but Cloudy stalked into a nearby building to gently place Seify on the couch, backing away with hands up.


“What’s wrong with him?” Squall’s voice was gruff, and she and Zell stood behind him in the doorway, weapons still away, but ready nonetheless. Cloudy just shook his head.


“I was hoping you could tell me.” Cloudy crossed the floor to sit a chair. Squall went over to check Seifer, and joined him at the other end of the couch. Zell squatted and sat on the floor, leaning back to rest on the couch in front of Seifer, glaring like a guard dog. Selphie put on her best confused look as she covered the door.


The room went silent for a minute, and Selphie resisted the urge to fidget. Cloudy didn’t seem like an enemy, but she would follow Squall’s lead. Irvy always said that she gave people too much benefit of doubt.


Irvy…


She remembered his grin, as he glanced back at her before pressing his palms together to pray for Alexander. She could see his form fade as the Guardian Force tried to come into being. Rinoa was on his left, hovering in the Nowhere space, wings spread wide and glowing ethereally bright as she threw spell after spell at the other Sorceress. Quistis, last Selphie had seen, was crouched low in pain, but still had the remaining strength to mumble to herself; the tightening on her whip indicated the appearance of her impressive Blue Magic. Ultimeca was doing her level best to exterminate them, and the three had held their own.


Selphie shook her head softly; they would be all right.


Seifer though, she thought as her eyes strayed to the man on the couch, was another question. He’d been controlled by Ultimeca, had to have been. She hadn’t known him long, but the way the others were acting lead her to believe that he could be a jerk, but not a traitor. And certainly, all his talk about a romantic dream…


“What do you know about Ultimeca?” Squall’s sharp voice shook her out of her reverie.


“Who’s that? Your missing friend?”


“No.” Squall pursed his lips, and if he’d been a more expressive person, probably would’ve sighed. “The Sorceress.” A more expressive person would’ve probably added ‘you dumbass’ to the end, too, but it was Squally so the implication was there, unsaid.


“A Sorceress?”


Cloudy didn’t seem to know about anything going on, which was confusing. He carried a huge sword like he knew how to use it, and could cast magic. He had to have been affiliated with either a Garden or one of the two great Armies, both of which had been thoroughly entrenched in the affair. Even the effects of GF wouldn’t count for such rapid and absolute memory loss.


The tension in the room dissipated as Squall rubbed his scar and pinched his nose. Selphie took a seat in the remaining chair, kicking her legs, and Zell readjusted on the floor.


“Ultimeca, the Sorceress that was trying to take over the world. We’re from the Gardens, to stop her. He,” Squall gestured to the unconscious blond on the couch, “is the infamous Sorceress Knight, Seifer Almasy.”


Squall paused meaningfully, waiting for Cloudy to react. He didn’t.


“Seifer Almasy, the Sorceress Knight,” Squall spoke slowly, enunciating like he was talking to a particularly slow child, or explaining restraint to her and Zell, “He’s been hearing Ultimeca in his head for a while now, she uses it to control him.”


A stray emotion passed Squall’s face, which wasn’t used to holding such things so it left quickly with a shrug. “At least, she used to. I got the faint impression she wasn’t around anymore.”


It took Selphie a second to get it. Rinoa would’ve giggled at that, and Quistis would’ve rolled her eyes.


Maybe Cloudy had been watching before stepping in their battle, because there was a hint of a smile on his face. For all he was small and cute and squishable, Selphie didn’t think that he was the kind to smile a lot.


The door creaked, and all eyes shot to it. They heard a rough sounding ‘Cloud?’, and Squall scooted to the edge of the couch, one hand on his gunblade, the other flung wide, as to cover Seifer. Zell and Selphie were immediately on their feet ready. The door was nudged open. Selphie pounced on the intruder.


“Aww! Squally! Look, he’s so cute!” She rubbed her nose in the soft red fur. “Can we keep him, can we?”


Selphie did her best look innocent as Squall relaxed back onto the couch and Zell flopped back down to the floor.


“Che’ All this stress over some dang Moomba.” Zell let out an overly-dramatic sigh and put his head in his hands, leaning on his knees. Selphie just stuck her tongue at him and gripped her prize harder.


“If... the miss… could…” The unfamiliar voice startled her. She scanned the room, but couldn’t see anyone else.


Cloudy-err, Cloud- tapped her on the shoulder. “Um, miss?”


“Selphie,” She gazed up at him from the floor with a grin. He didn’t seem like a bad person, and he’d helped them with the Glacial Eyes, even if they really didn’t need it. “Selphie Tilmitt of Trabia Garden.”


“Miss Tilmitt, then, if you could please let my friend go?” Oh, that was most certainly a smile, and Cloudy was probably really pretty if he’d take off those goggles, with that kind of smile. “I think he’s having trouble breathing.”


“Eh?” She took a jump back to examine the Moomba, who coughed a little. It looked liked Cloud was trying to keep himself from smiling again, and Selphie really didn’t think he could be a bad guy.


“Thank you, Cloud.”


Selphie and Squall’s eyes widened simultaneously, while Zell went a bit further, jumping back to his feat with a ‘Whatthehell?’


The Moomba took a step towards her, and she scrambled up and around it, wedging herself between Zell and Seifer on the couch.


“I’m sorry to disturb you, Miss Tilmitt,” the Moomba said, “My name is Red XIII.” It held its paw out.


Zell stood open-jawed, and Selphie pointed around him. “H-He talks!” she squeaked.


It was, unsurprisingly, Squall who recovered first. He stood and grasped Red XIII’s paw, giving it a firm handshake.


“Hello. I am Squall Leonhart of Balamb Garden. You probably know my father, Laguna Loire.”


Red XIII shook his head negatively, jangling beads and wild hair.


“Liar!” shouted Zell, “Practically all the Moombas I’ve met don’t talk, and if they do, it’s only to say ‘Laguna! Laguna!’ And all the Shumi know Laguna, anyway. They’ve got a statute of him even!” He finished his tirade with a shaking of fist.


Now that she thought about it, maybe he wasn’t a Moomba. But what else could he be? Selphie couldn’t ever remember seeing a Moomba so red. Not that she’d met that many Moombas, but usually they were more orange with white, with coarser fur than the fluff she’d hugged before. Maybe that was how he got his name, maybe he was the elder and instead of going white as they age, Moombas got progressively redder?


“I’m not a Moomba,” the Moomba said, “My name was formerly Nanaki, last of my clan. And I have never heard of any ‘Laguna’.”


By this time, Squally and Cloudy had done another ‘talking in the air’ thing, (which previously Selphie had only thought Squall and Seifer could do, maybe occasionally Squall and Rinoa, although Quisty always gave it her level best) and were sitting down again. Cloud did a little throat clearing cough, and Squall sent a glare at the two of them, and everyone settled down again. Zell leaned back on the couch. Selphie went back to her chair, scratching Red behind the ears as he followed and took a spot against her legs. Squall gave her a hard look at that, but she just beamed white teeth back, unrepentant, and maybe Cloud was thinking about smiling again.


“Mr. Leonhart-“ Cloud began.


“Commander Leonhart.” Squall was being pouty again, so Selphie hissed a soft ‘Squall!’


“My regrets, Commander. You were saying something about a Sorceress? From Outer Space?”


Squall’s eyes narrowed even further, making him squinty as he glared. “I never mentioned that she was from Outer Space.”


“But she was, wasn’t she? We call her ‘Jenova’, here.” Cloud stood up, hand on the hilt of his sword. Zell jumped up once again, muttering a ‘Finally’ as he pounded fists together, stance ready.


Red jumped under Selphie’s hand, teeth bared at Zell. “Cloud, Jenova isn’t back, is she? Is that the cause of the Geostigma in the young ones?”


“She’s not,” Squall was trying to get a hold on the situation again. “Ultimeca is a Sorceress from the future. She was trying to achieve Time Compression, when we defeated her. Zell, stand down!”


He didn’t, and Selphie jumped up this time too, weapon out, scooting neared to her group. Man, talking things over always confused things. Selphie was much much better at making things go ‘Boom!’


“I won’t allow Jenova to come back.” The sword loomed large in such a confined space. Nunchaku was best in open areas, where she could run in and out. Cloud continued “There will not be another Sephiroth.” He pulled off his goggles, and his eyes lit up the room. Green eyes glowed.


“Sephiroth?” Squall was standing, hand on the gunblade not yet drawn, glancing between Seifer and Cloud. “Listen, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jenova, Sephiroth, any of it! Who are you people?!”


Selphie and Zell flanked Squall as best they could in the cramped structure, a tense standoff to Cloud (glowy eyes must be evil) and Red XIII (teeth bared, hackles raised, more a Torama than a Moomba, really).


Seifer moaned quietly, and Selphie risked a glance back to see a thin stream of blood from his nose.


“Sephiroth,” he whispered, and Cloud attacked.