Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 8 > Thy Forsaken Soul: Disturbance it the Peaceful Era
Disturbance in the Peaceful Era:
Disclaimer:
I don't own Final Fantasy VIII. Original characters and names belong to me. All names and characters relating to Final fantasy belong to Square-Enix.
Chapter III: Mere Routine
Peaceful Era 17, June 3rd, 0800
In the cold dark dungeon like Master's Room of Balamb Garden, Cid Kramer was preparing for a confrontation he was in no way ready for. Cid Kramer was headmaster and as such, he ran Balamb Garden in his office on the third floor.
Room B1 was more like a warlord's throne room than an office for Garden's proprietor. It was large, taking up an entire floor. It was cold and damp. It was also quite dark; having no windows to let in natural light. There was no source of ventilation, giving the room a dark murky environment and making it difficult to breathe. Then again, when Cid thought about it he decided this was not so shocking considering the Master's Room was part of Balamb Garden's basement.
Cid breathed heavily, waiting for his lungs to grow used to the change in atmosphere while he attempted to contemplate what he would say to the master, the only one who would have offered him the money to establish Garden in the first place.
He removed his glasses and placed them delicately in the top pocket of his shirt. As he scratched the scalp under his tidy brown hair, his kind wrinkled face and aged eyes reflected the thought crossing through the worn canal of his mind. He was getting too old for these confrontations that seemed to occur at every meeting he had with the pig-headed Master. Soon the stress would grow too great for him and he would be forced into retirement and the Master would take full control over Garden. Let that money-grubber handle the stress of running this place, he thought to himself. Of course, he would feel sorry for the students when that time came.
The Master was the kind of person who preferred to take shortcuts around any process in order to save time and money. "Cut every corner and make me rich" was the Master's motto.
Cid was brought back to the situation by the sight of a tall man who, like him was wearing brown formal trousers and shoes, a white shirt and a brown tie matching the sleeveless vest he wore over his shirt. This was the compulsory uniform of Garden administrators and faculty.
The difference between Cid's uniform and the tall man's was a large straw hat covering the man's bowed head and concealing his face. This hat identified them as Faculty. Faculty were seen as authority figures in Garden and as such, were singled out and despised even more than the power-abusing disciplinary Committee.
"Headmaster," the faculty addressed Cid "the Master will see you now"
"Thank you" Cid replied with a false smile and followed the Faculty to the end of the Master's Room to where the Master spent his life.
"...and to sum up the years work," a tired instructor announced to her uninterested class "you are all to write me an essay about the history, structure, overall running and so on of Balamb garden. Any questions?" the thirty year old asked her class.
"How long does it have to be?" one of the students in the front row asked
"There is no maximum or minimum word limit" the instructor explained, and received a slight murmur of relief at the ease of the essay "but be warned. The success or failure of this course will be decided completely by the grade of this assignment." At this, the murmur was promptly replaced by groans of injustice.
"But... But that's not fair Instructor." A student piped up.
"Hey" argued a blonde student at the back, who the instructor realized, was Seifer. "Shut up, would you? The instructor is trying to teach. Don't make me throw you back in detention" he threatened.
"No... You don't have to do that. I just got out of a whole two weeks of detention. If I miss any more class, I'm gonna be disqualified for the SeeD exam." The jittery boy responded.
"...class dismissed" the instructor announced to the class. "...Except Seifer and Squall" she added as the students began to shuffle out the door like a flock of sheep following a daily routine.
Down in the Master's room, Cid stood before the master's throne surrounded by faculty. The throne consisted of a large protective armor-plated pod where the Master sat. To either side of this pod stood a large blue orb, connected to the pod by the arms of the throne. The fat slob probably wouldn't survive without this life support system.
Suddenly, a thunderous voice, amplified and distorted by the throne-pod boomed and echoed off Cid's eardrums in an ancient and forgotten dialect that Cid could never possibly hope to understand.
"The master wishes me to tell you that it is time for you to present this month's paperwork" one of the faculties translated.
"Here" Cid said, thrusting a large red folder decorated with Garden's insignia and the words "31 April – 31 May PE17" towards the Faculty. "Could you please tell the Master to direct his questions directly to me?"
"Very well" the faculty answered as he pushed the folder in through a slot in the Throne's pod. After a few minutes, the Orbs connected to the Master's throne turned bright red and a deep guttural growl erupted throughout the room and didn't die down for over half a minute. This was a sound that could scare the most brutal of death metal heads shitless.
"Kramer!" sounded the infuriated roars of the Garden Master. "What the hell are you doing to me?! Garden is loosing money! You are loosing money, my money!"
"Master, with all due respect, There are more important matters to discuss than a slight deficit in funds."
"More important than funds, the world doesn't run on good will, Kramer!" the master roared in response, then added after a considerable pause "...I see my prized student is doing just as well as I expected. I just hope you can keep good on your word Kramer. Assure me that he will not be stuck teamed up with that slacker."
"Sir, I can assure you that Leonheart is no slacker. In fact, I think he is one of the hardest working candidates we've ever seen here at Garden"
"...you're right Kramer; Leonheart is a hard worker, despite his obvious lack in talent."
"Lack in talent? I'll agree that his swordsmanship may not be up to Almassy's level of excellence, but please do remember that he is a year younger and since this is his first time as a candidate he has less field experience. Also remember they are both attempting to master one of the most difficult and deadly weapons at Garden's disposal. I think you'll agree both Leonheart and Almassy are both excellent students who stand a good chance of passing this year."
"...Very well Kramer, I'll call for you if I need anything else" the Master dismissed his associate.
Cid felt a sigh of relief escape his forty nine year old lips as he walked light heartedly toward the elevator that would take him up to his office on the Third floor.
"...Alright Seifer, you can go first." The Instructor told Seifer. "Why did you leave Squall's unconscious body on Duel Hill? You must know better than that." The instructor questioned Seifer after the rest of the students had shuffled to their next class.
"Well... yeah, and I felt real bad about it too. I was even gonna buy him a bouquet of flowers, but the store was closed. I couldn't have just visited him in the infirmary without flowers now could I?" Seifer said with mock care and concern.
"Cut the crap, this isn't a joke. It's a serious offence." The instructor snapped impatiently "you should've brought him to the infirmary yourself, or at least let the medic team know where he was. ...All right, I'll let you off with a warning, but this is the only time. You're dismissed.
Seifer then left the room with a triumphant smirk on his face. "Seifer Almassy," the instructor said to herself "I don't know what to do..." she then turned to Squall, who had remained quiet while the instructor lectured Seifer. "All right Squall, You know where instructor Trepe's class is right?"
"Yes" was Squall's barely audible reply.
"All right, she has asked me to escort you to her classroom so she can ask you some questions about the fight you had with Seifer. Can I trust you to go on your own? Or do I need to take you, because I'm kind of busy today.
"Yes"
The instructor assumed he meant she could trust him. He had never shown any kind of disloyalty before and always stood up to responsibility without complaint, or any comment whatsoever now she thought about it, even if it wasn't his fault and this was usually the case. She had no reason to doubt his word. "Go now then, before your next class. Instructor Trepe is waiting for you."
With that, Squall nodded and slowly made his way towards Instructor Trepe's classroom which was located in the west corridor of the second floor hall. Fortunately, He was in the west-most classroom in the east corridor of the Second floor hall, which meant he just had to walk strait down the hall to get to Instructor Trepe's class.
When he got there, he noticed the automated door wouldn't open, which was strange. Either it was faulty, or Instructor Trepe wasn't there. Nothing was going right lately, but what did he expect. All he could do was visit the Infirmary and ask the doctor where Instructor Trepe might be. If anyone could tell him where his instructor was, it would be either the doctor or the receptionist at Garden's entrance. He headed toward the infirmary.
Meanwhile, on an abandoned forest sheltered section of railway line, the temporarily stationary train-base of the Timber Forest Owls sat motionless as its passengers decided amongst themselves what action to take next. Of course, all the forest owls were not present in this discussion. No one had notified Rinoa that a strategy meeting was to take place that day.
When she casually strolled into the conference room at ten AM, the other forest owls immediately stopped talking and Watts slowly walked up to her. "Uh, hi... Rinoa" he said nervously "did you uh... sleep well?"
"What do you think?" Zone asked, criticising Watts' question with his own. "Didn't you hear her screaming last night?"
"Well if you heard her, why didn't you go check on her then?"
"Neither did you!"
"Well... I didn't want to wake her and get her mad!"
The two agued back and forth for quite some time and Rinoa saw why Seifer used to call them 'Dumb and Dumber.'
"...sorry sir" Watts eventually said to Rinoa, snapping her out of a daze
"Look at her" Zone criticized again "She's a girl! She's not a bloody Sir!"
"Can I cut in?" Rinoa asked nervously
"Sure" the two both answered at once and then looked at each other as if to say "hey, she was talking to me!"
"Do you need me here, really?" she asked them
"What, you mean at this meeting, sorry but... it's not really that important. Don't worry about it." Zone said as he unconvincingly attempted to reassure her.
"It's not just the meeting. Am I really part of this group? Do you really need me here?" she asked, imposing another question.
"Why? You wanna go on holiday or something?" Watts asked her rather stupidly. His question did nothing whatsoever, except maybe open the door to an eerie silence enjoyable by no one.
"Yeah, you've got us out of some tough situations in the past year." Zone reminded Rinoa.
"Is that the only reason you kept me here?" she asked, regretting her own question as she remembered the many occasions in which she had willfully demeaned herself for the forest owls.
"No, you really are a valued member of our team, but if you want to go..."
"It's not that. I just wanted to know if I... I don't want to be a limp paperweight. I think I just want to help out. I know there'll be sacrifices I'll need to make, but I wanna help... if I can."
"All right" zone said "I'll involve you more in any operations we carry out. Watts is going out for research soon. Take it easy until then. When he gets back, we're all gonna have big jobs to do."
"If I can get SeeD to help..."
"If you can convince them, then that's great. Seifer was a good fighter when he was here. If we can get him back, who knows what we can do."
"All right, I'll keep sending letters to Garden."
"Yeah, you do that."
After the conversation, Rinoa left the room with higher spirits than when she entered.
Squall's Dormitory room, Dorm #D1ML was a double single dorm room. It consisted of three rooms; one large study and two small single rooms. He had remained in this room for the last two years without the distraction of a roommate, which meant he had the privacy of both rooms and the study to himself.
Since it turned out, Instructor Trepe was not present at Garden so had to cancel all her meetings and classes, giving Squall the rest of the morning off until 1100. He decided to do something useful and study for the theory exams he would have over the next four days.
Life at Garden, just like life at any other institute was structured around discipline and routine. 0800 was the time for four morning classes, each half an hour long. After an hour break, Students reported to their morning physical Classes, Two classes each an hour long. At 1300 students take another hour break for lunch. At 1400 students attend two more one hour long physical class.
That was the way it went education-wise at Garden. The month of June was the busiest month in a student's life. The second week of June consisted of theory examinations. These were basic enough. Each theory class had either a two hour exam or an assignment. Theory exams and assignments were always marked to the same marking schedule. Fifty percent correct meant a pass. Anything less meant failure.
A pass with sixty percent or more was magnificence, Seventy percent was excellence and one hundred percent was perfection. Squall studied the marking schedule to make sure it was the same as always. Of course, it was.
Squall's four theory courses were Garden study, physics, history and geographical studies. Tomorrow he would have his History exam. The day after would be physics. His other two theory courses did not have exams. They had assessments. These were simple essays. If he could convince the instructor that he understood everything through the use of an essay, he passed.
Squall would be studying during all his breaks that day, putting his spare time to good use and doing the opposite of his rival, the arrogant power abusing leader of the disciplinary committee; Seifer Almassy.
Seifer of course considered study a complete waste of time and constantly remarked about how anyone who can fit time for study into their daily schedule is in desperate need of a life. For all their differences however, they shared some similarities. For instance, they both performed poorly in theory classes and both excelled in combat; in fact it was Squall's obsession-like determination to beat Seifer in a duel that had earned him the title of most improved in his year-group.
Squall had little time to ponder this however, he needed to study in order to pass tomorrow's exam and the one thing he didn't need was thoughts clouding up his mind and shortening his attention span. If he didn't get at least a fifty percent average on his exams, there would be no place for him at Garden. Garden had strict rules about failure but Squall usually scraped by with the minimum results required to pass. He normally passed...just. But to be eligible to take part in the SeeD exam he would need a minimum of a seventy five percent average.
He was usually nervous at this time of the year, but this was the first time he knew he would fail. There was no chance in hell he would get over seventy five percent in every class. No chance...
Disclaimer:
I don't own Final Fantasy VIII. Original characters and names belong to me. All names and characters relating to Final fantasy belong to Square-Enix.
Chapter III: Mere Routine
Peaceful Era 17, June 3rd, 0800
In the cold dark dungeon like Master's Room of Balamb Garden, Cid Kramer was preparing for a confrontation he was in no way ready for. Cid Kramer was headmaster and as such, he ran Balamb Garden in his office on the third floor.
Room B1 was more like a warlord's throne room than an office for Garden's proprietor. It was large, taking up an entire floor. It was cold and damp. It was also quite dark; having no windows to let in natural light. There was no source of ventilation, giving the room a dark murky environment and making it difficult to breathe. Then again, when Cid thought about it he decided this was not so shocking considering the Master's Room was part of Balamb Garden's basement.
Cid breathed heavily, waiting for his lungs to grow used to the change in atmosphere while he attempted to contemplate what he would say to the master, the only one who would have offered him the money to establish Garden in the first place.
He removed his glasses and placed them delicately in the top pocket of his shirt. As he scratched the scalp under his tidy brown hair, his kind wrinkled face and aged eyes reflected the thought crossing through the worn canal of his mind. He was getting too old for these confrontations that seemed to occur at every meeting he had with the pig-headed Master. Soon the stress would grow too great for him and he would be forced into retirement and the Master would take full control over Garden. Let that money-grubber handle the stress of running this place, he thought to himself. Of course, he would feel sorry for the students when that time came.
The Master was the kind of person who preferred to take shortcuts around any process in order to save time and money. "Cut every corner and make me rich" was the Master's motto.
Cid was brought back to the situation by the sight of a tall man who, like him was wearing brown formal trousers and shoes, a white shirt and a brown tie matching the sleeveless vest he wore over his shirt. This was the compulsory uniform of Garden administrators and faculty.
The difference between Cid's uniform and the tall man's was a large straw hat covering the man's bowed head and concealing his face. This hat identified them as Faculty. Faculty were seen as authority figures in Garden and as such, were singled out and despised even more than the power-abusing disciplinary Committee.
"Headmaster," the faculty addressed Cid "the Master will see you now"
"Thank you" Cid replied with a false smile and followed the Faculty to the end of the Master's Room to where the Master spent his life.
"...and to sum up the years work," a tired instructor announced to her uninterested class "you are all to write me an essay about the history, structure, overall running and so on of Balamb garden. Any questions?" the thirty year old asked her class.
"How long does it have to be?" one of the students in the front row asked
"There is no maximum or minimum word limit" the instructor explained, and received a slight murmur of relief at the ease of the essay "but be warned. The success or failure of this course will be decided completely by the grade of this assignment." At this, the murmur was promptly replaced by groans of injustice.
"But... But that's not fair Instructor." A student piped up.
"Hey" argued a blonde student at the back, who the instructor realized, was Seifer. "Shut up, would you? The instructor is trying to teach. Don't make me throw you back in detention" he threatened.
"No... You don't have to do that. I just got out of a whole two weeks of detention. If I miss any more class, I'm gonna be disqualified for the SeeD exam." The jittery boy responded.
"...class dismissed" the instructor announced to the class. "...Except Seifer and Squall" she added as the students began to shuffle out the door like a flock of sheep following a daily routine.
Down in the Master's room, Cid stood before the master's throne surrounded by faculty. The throne consisted of a large protective armor-plated pod where the Master sat. To either side of this pod stood a large blue orb, connected to the pod by the arms of the throne. The fat slob probably wouldn't survive without this life support system.
Suddenly, a thunderous voice, amplified and distorted by the throne-pod boomed and echoed off Cid's eardrums in an ancient and forgotten dialect that Cid could never possibly hope to understand.
"The master wishes me to tell you that it is time for you to present this month's paperwork" one of the faculties translated.
"Here" Cid said, thrusting a large red folder decorated with Garden's insignia and the words "31 April – 31 May PE17" towards the Faculty. "Could you please tell the Master to direct his questions directly to me?"
"Very well" the faculty answered as he pushed the folder in through a slot in the Throne's pod. After a few minutes, the Orbs connected to the Master's throne turned bright red and a deep guttural growl erupted throughout the room and didn't die down for over half a minute. This was a sound that could scare the most brutal of death metal heads shitless.
"Kramer!" sounded the infuriated roars of the Garden Master. "What the hell are you doing to me?! Garden is loosing money! You are loosing money, my money!"
"Master, with all due respect, There are more important matters to discuss than a slight deficit in funds."
"More important than funds, the world doesn't run on good will, Kramer!" the master roared in response, then added after a considerable pause "...I see my prized student is doing just as well as I expected. I just hope you can keep good on your word Kramer. Assure me that he will not be stuck teamed up with that slacker."
"Sir, I can assure you that Leonheart is no slacker. In fact, I think he is one of the hardest working candidates we've ever seen here at Garden"
"...you're right Kramer; Leonheart is a hard worker, despite his obvious lack in talent."
"Lack in talent? I'll agree that his swordsmanship may not be up to Almassy's level of excellence, but please do remember that he is a year younger and since this is his first time as a candidate he has less field experience. Also remember they are both attempting to master one of the most difficult and deadly weapons at Garden's disposal. I think you'll agree both Leonheart and Almassy are both excellent students who stand a good chance of passing this year."
"...Very well Kramer, I'll call for you if I need anything else" the Master dismissed his associate.
Cid felt a sigh of relief escape his forty nine year old lips as he walked light heartedly toward the elevator that would take him up to his office on the Third floor.
"...Alright Seifer, you can go first." The Instructor told Seifer. "Why did you leave Squall's unconscious body on Duel Hill? You must know better than that." The instructor questioned Seifer after the rest of the students had shuffled to their next class.
"Well... yeah, and I felt real bad about it too. I was even gonna buy him a bouquet of flowers, but the store was closed. I couldn't have just visited him in the infirmary without flowers now could I?" Seifer said with mock care and concern.
"Cut the crap, this isn't a joke. It's a serious offence." The instructor snapped impatiently "you should've brought him to the infirmary yourself, or at least let the medic team know where he was. ...All right, I'll let you off with a warning, but this is the only time. You're dismissed.
Seifer then left the room with a triumphant smirk on his face. "Seifer Almassy," the instructor said to herself "I don't know what to do..." she then turned to Squall, who had remained quiet while the instructor lectured Seifer. "All right Squall, You know where instructor Trepe's class is right?"
"Yes" was Squall's barely audible reply.
"All right, she has asked me to escort you to her classroom so she can ask you some questions about the fight you had with Seifer. Can I trust you to go on your own? Or do I need to take you, because I'm kind of busy today.
"Yes"
The instructor assumed he meant she could trust him. He had never shown any kind of disloyalty before and always stood up to responsibility without complaint, or any comment whatsoever now she thought about it, even if it wasn't his fault and this was usually the case. She had no reason to doubt his word. "Go now then, before your next class. Instructor Trepe is waiting for you."
With that, Squall nodded and slowly made his way towards Instructor Trepe's classroom which was located in the west corridor of the second floor hall. Fortunately, He was in the west-most classroom in the east corridor of the Second floor hall, which meant he just had to walk strait down the hall to get to Instructor Trepe's class.
When he got there, he noticed the automated door wouldn't open, which was strange. Either it was faulty, or Instructor Trepe wasn't there. Nothing was going right lately, but what did he expect. All he could do was visit the Infirmary and ask the doctor where Instructor Trepe might be. If anyone could tell him where his instructor was, it would be either the doctor or the receptionist at Garden's entrance. He headed toward the infirmary.
Meanwhile, on an abandoned forest sheltered section of railway line, the temporarily stationary train-base of the Timber Forest Owls sat motionless as its passengers decided amongst themselves what action to take next. Of course, all the forest owls were not present in this discussion. No one had notified Rinoa that a strategy meeting was to take place that day.
When she casually strolled into the conference room at ten AM, the other forest owls immediately stopped talking and Watts slowly walked up to her. "Uh, hi... Rinoa" he said nervously "did you uh... sleep well?"
"What do you think?" Zone asked, criticising Watts' question with his own. "Didn't you hear her screaming last night?"
"Well if you heard her, why didn't you go check on her then?"
"Neither did you!"
"Well... I didn't want to wake her and get her mad!"
The two agued back and forth for quite some time and Rinoa saw why Seifer used to call them 'Dumb and Dumber.'
"...sorry sir" Watts eventually said to Rinoa, snapping her out of a daze
"Look at her" Zone criticized again "She's a girl! She's not a bloody Sir!"
"Can I cut in?" Rinoa asked nervously
"Sure" the two both answered at once and then looked at each other as if to say "hey, she was talking to me!"
"Do you need me here, really?" she asked them
"What, you mean at this meeting, sorry but... it's not really that important. Don't worry about it." Zone said as he unconvincingly attempted to reassure her.
"It's not just the meeting. Am I really part of this group? Do you really need me here?" she asked, imposing another question.
"Why? You wanna go on holiday or something?" Watts asked her rather stupidly. His question did nothing whatsoever, except maybe open the door to an eerie silence enjoyable by no one.
"Yeah, you've got us out of some tough situations in the past year." Zone reminded Rinoa.
"Is that the only reason you kept me here?" she asked, regretting her own question as she remembered the many occasions in which she had willfully demeaned herself for the forest owls.
"No, you really are a valued member of our team, but if you want to go..."
"It's not that. I just wanted to know if I... I don't want to be a limp paperweight. I think I just want to help out. I know there'll be sacrifices I'll need to make, but I wanna help... if I can."
"All right" zone said "I'll involve you more in any operations we carry out. Watts is going out for research soon. Take it easy until then. When he gets back, we're all gonna have big jobs to do."
"If I can get SeeD to help..."
"If you can convince them, then that's great. Seifer was a good fighter when he was here. If we can get him back, who knows what we can do."
"All right, I'll keep sending letters to Garden."
"Yeah, you do that."
After the conversation, Rinoa left the room with higher spirits than when she entered.
Squall's Dormitory room, Dorm #D1ML was a double single dorm room. It consisted of three rooms; one large study and two small single rooms. He had remained in this room for the last two years without the distraction of a roommate, which meant he had the privacy of both rooms and the study to himself.
Since it turned out, Instructor Trepe was not present at Garden so had to cancel all her meetings and classes, giving Squall the rest of the morning off until 1100. He decided to do something useful and study for the theory exams he would have over the next four days.
Life at Garden, just like life at any other institute was structured around discipline and routine. 0800 was the time for four morning classes, each half an hour long. After an hour break, Students reported to their morning physical Classes, Two classes each an hour long. At 1300 students take another hour break for lunch. At 1400 students attend two more one hour long physical class.
That was the way it went education-wise at Garden. The month of June was the busiest month in a student's life. The second week of June consisted of theory examinations. These were basic enough. Each theory class had either a two hour exam or an assignment. Theory exams and assignments were always marked to the same marking schedule. Fifty percent correct meant a pass. Anything less meant failure.
A pass with sixty percent or more was magnificence, Seventy percent was excellence and one hundred percent was perfection. Squall studied the marking schedule to make sure it was the same as always. Of course, it was.
Squall's four theory courses were Garden study, physics, history and geographical studies. Tomorrow he would have his History exam. The day after would be physics. His other two theory courses did not have exams. They had assessments. These were simple essays. If he could convince the instructor that he understood everything through the use of an essay, he passed.
Squall would be studying during all his breaks that day, putting his spare time to good use and doing the opposite of his rival, the arrogant power abusing leader of the disciplinary committee; Seifer Almassy.
Seifer of course considered study a complete waste of time and constantly remarked about how anyone who can fit time for study into their daily schedule is in desperate need of a life. For all their differences however, they shared some similarities. For instance, they both performed poorly in theory classes and both excelled in combat; in fact it was Squall's obsession-like determination to beat Seifer in a duel that had earned him the title of most improved in his year-group.
Squall had little time to ponder this however, he needed to study in order to pass tomorrow's exam and the one thing he didn't need was thoughts clouding up his mind and shortening his attention span. If he didn't get at least a fifty percent average on his exams, there would be no place for him at Garden. Garden had strict rules about failure but Squall usually scraped by with the minimum results required to pass. He normally passed...just. But to be eligible to take part in the SeeD exam he would need a minimum of a seventy five percent average.
He was usually nervous at this time of the year, but this was the first time he knew he would fail. There was no chance in hell he would get over seventy five percent in every class. No chance...
Sign up to rate and review this story