Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Fallen Knight ❯ Chapter 1 : The Shell ( Chapter 1 )

:: Chapter 1 ::

The Shell

Five Years Later . . . .

 

“What if he ain't here, ya know?” Raijin questioned in an overly loud whisper, bending over his shorter, silver-haired companion to peek into the darkened motel room. Fujin turned her head to glare up with her one good gray eye, the pale orb virtually spitting fire at her bumbling friend.

 

“RAGE!” she hissed. “QUIET!”

 

“But—ow!” Raijin's loud response was cut short by Fujin's well-placed, sharp elbow to the rib cavity. “That hurt, Fu, ya know?!” he whimpered, pained look on his face. Fujin merely put a finger to her lips, gray eye glaring balefully, before turning back toward the dingy motel room that they had both approached cautiously.

 

It was not the best place in the world to be. The unnamed roach-infested building sat right smack in the middle of one of the most awful and seedy sections of Deling City. Even now Fujin could hear the faint sounds of a child's screaming, of rhythmic banging and lusty/fake moaning, and the distinct crack of a gun shot. The SeeD rank 20 scowled heavier, fist clenching. Why had he locked himself away into this disgusting rat hole? Hyne, hadn't he suffered enough already?

 

The room they stood in front of now was now darkened and seemingly empty. The door had been ajar, and Fujin peeked inside it now, brow furrowed in worry. This was it, the room that was supposedly occupied by the man Fu and Raij searched for, if they were to believe the overweight and drunken proprietor who had givent his information.

 

Five years ago, after the evil sorceress's defeat, Fujin had thought that everything would return to normal . . . or at least as normal as life could possibly get around a man like him. She and Raijin had been hanging out in Fisherman's Horizon, passing the days . . . and then talk had turned to returning th Balamb. He wanted none of it. He had cursed them for even suggesting it, then stormed out and Fujin had not seen him since. Unsure of what to do, listless without his guidance, the two of them had returned to Garden . . . the only home they ever really knew. Fu and Raij hadn't exactly been welcomed back with open arms, though they were reinstated nonetheless. They had made their own way ever since.

 

But Fujin had never given up on tracking down her friend. She worried about him, out here all alone, what with the sort of reputation he now possessed. They were his posse, he needed them. Even if he himself didn't know it yet. Slowly, the two SeeDs crept into the room, looking this way and that, searching out any sign of him.

 

“I dunno, Fu,” Raijin murmured after a moment, casting his eyes around the empty place. “I don't think he's here, ya know? Maybe he's out or somethin—,”

 

Again, the burly fellow was cut short, this time by the faint sounds of groaning. Startled, the both of them whirled to where the ratty, stained bed lay. Behind it they saw a slight shift, and then a hand appeared. The hand gripped the side of the lumpy mattress for a moment, and then there was a painful grunt. Very slowly a figure emerged from the murky shadows. Something that might once have been held tall and proud was now forgotten as it slouched forward with fatigue and worn-out despair. Slowly the figure turned to them and Fu stepped back with the force of her shock, eye wide, a hand flying up to her mouth.

 

Her vision quickly became blurry with the tears that gathered, and she was nearly thankful for the reprieve. Her fear of him being recognized was completely forgotten. There was no way that anyone would have ever matched the tall, arrogantly proud, powerhouse soldier with this empty . . . shell of a man that he had become.

 

Seifer Almasy, quite literally, looked like death warmed over. And before their very eyes, he once again collapsed at their feet.

 

~*~

 

“Get away from me, dammit!” Seifer snapped, scowling over at Raijin as the bumbling oaf tried for the fifth time to get him to eat something solid. Seifer couldn't remember the last time he had. Eating just seemed too much of a damned bother.

 

They had betrayed him. They had brought him back here, back to this place, the one place he swore he'd never even look at again. And they'd done it all while he'd been too fucked up to do anything about it. Now he was trapped. It was the worst kind of betrayal imaginable.

 

“You gotta eat somethin, Seifer, ya know?” Raijin insisted worriedly. “You're just skin a bones, man. It ain't healthy to just drink booze all day, ya know?”

 

“And just who in the hell asked you anyway!” he growled. “I told you two to leave, goddammit, and I meant it! Get the fuck out of here now!”

 

“Now, now,” came a stern, motherly voice and Seifer stiffened. With what, he wasn't quite sure. Shock, hatred . . . cold terror? Dr. Kadowaki came walking into the infirmary cubicle, dragging a cart behind her ladled with all sorts of medical equipment no doubt meant to poke and prod him with. Seifer eyed them with a slight note of alarm. “I won't have that kind of language in my infirmary, Mr. Almasy, I believe you remember that rule well enough.”

 

“Why the Hyne am I here?” he snapped, pulling uselessly on the bedstraps that held him down.

 

“Off-hand I'd say one serious case of malnourishment and a near-case of alcohol poisoning,” was the doctor's flippant response.

 

“I don't want your help, or your pity dammit!” he roared. “Let me out of here!”

 

“Well that's really unfortunate, Mr. Almasy, since you're getting both whether you like it or not. And letting you go is out of the question. It'd be against my oath as a healer.”

 

He strained a bit under the straps, but it was useless. Maybe, five years ago, he might have been able to break them. Now old and stringy muscles that had been let go to utter waste strained pitiably before they went completely slack with exhaustion. He lay there and glared up at the infirmary ceiling as the well-meaning doctor began to poke and prod at him, tutting dissaprovingly beneath her breath. He stiffened as the kindly woman cut his shirt away, what little muscle he had left in his too-thin frame bunching. As expected, all three faces in the room tightened with shock and sympathy.

 

“You might as well take that food back up to the Cafeteria, Raijin,” the doctor suddenly murmured softly. “Mr. Almasy's bowels would go into shock if he tried to eat that right now, he'd only end up regurgitating. He'll have to be fed intravenously for a few weeks before he's ready for solid foods again.”

 

Even as she said this, she inserted an IV in his restrained hand, hooked up to some kind of liquid food machine. Very slowly, uncertain, Fu and Raij got to their feet with the tray they'd come in with and dissapeared. Having accepted, grudgingly, that fighting was useless, Seifer lay back in the bed and turned to glare out of the window. He stiffened with shock as his dull green eyes met and locked with a pair of brilliant blue ones.

 

~*~

 

Quistis Trepe was not easily shocked. She had seen, done and witnessed far too much in her short 23 years of life on this planet to be thrown off by much. Yet the sight of a fallen Seifer Almasy had shaken her to the very ground.

 

He was—had been a very proud, (more like arrogant and insufferable), man. He had fancied himself a Knight. Now . . . he looked like a skeleton. Quistis swallowed forcefully as Dr. Kadowaki inserted an IV into his flesh, thoughts swirling around the past as she stared at him.

 

He was literally skin and bone. His cheeks were sunken, his once fiery jade eyes dulled and surrounded in grayish-purple smudges. His collar protruded far too much, nearly every rib visible, belly concave, the knobs of his hips just able to be seen above the hem of his grimy and tattered pants. His hair had grown long, down past his shoulders and hung now in his face in grimy, greasy clumps. He was pale, sickly . . . broken. The sight of it was almost more than she could bear.

 

Quistis could never say that she had ever liked Seifer much. Even as children at the orphanage he delighted in making her miserable, teasing her and ridiculing her to the point where her fragile control snapped and she cried like the six year old that she had been. She had to, needed to feel in control to feel safe and Seifer had always been the one element that Quistis could never even hope to tame. Too damned unpredictable, too stubborn, too rebellious. She was smart, capable, strong. He was unruly, hardheaded, violent. She understood a great many things in this world. She would never understand Seifer Almasy.

 

He was supposed to have gone into hiding, sulking and defiant, biding his time and nursing his wounds until he was able to take revenge on “Puberty Boy,” for ruining his life. He most certainly was not supposed to end up like this . . . he wasn't supposed to have given up . . . on everything. Even life it seemed.

 

She jerked as he suddenly turned his head, and their eyes met. She was startled to see real emotion pass across his face, a true testimony to how broken and weak he had become. The Seifer of old would never have let such things slip. She saw fear light his eyes, fear and trepidation. And then anger.

 

“For fuck's sake!” she heard the hollow echo of his snarl in the next room as he whirled back to glare up at the ceiling. “Let's just get the goddamned thing over with and put me up on display in the fucking Quad!”

 

“One more outburst like that Mr. Almasy and I'll fetch the soap,” Dr. Kadowaki responded, not looking up from where she was taking notes. “You're never too old nor too sick to get your mouth washed out, mister. As to Miss Trepe's presence, I requested it. It's an Instructor's duty to come fetch her student when he's gone awry.”

 

Both stiffened at that. I'm not his instructor anymore, Quistis thought in protest.

 

“I'm not a student anymore, Kadowaki,” Seifer seethed through his clenched teeth, echoing her own thoughts. “I'm a fucking lo . . . ser . . . .” his voice slowly trailed off, eyes growing even more glassy and dull as the doctor injected some sort of drug into his IV. Very slowly the lids closed and his body went completely lax. Some sort of sedative, Quistis assumed.

 

“Oh Hyne,” came a soft voice and Quistis turned to see Matron standing beside her. The older woman stared, horrified, at the sight before them. The beautiful face crumpled, golden eyes welling up with tears as one slender, pale hand raised to touch the class barrier. “My poor child . . .” Matron turned and gazed at Quistis then, confusion and pain in her eyes. “Oh Quisty, what's happened to him?!”

 

“Life after Ultimecia it seems,” was her hollow reply. More tears, and Quistis felt her resolve weakening.

 

“It's all my fault.”

 

“Don't say that, Matron!” Quistis insisted, reaching out and laying a comforting hand on the older woman's arm. “Seifer made his choices, all on his own. No one made them for him.” Matron only shook her head, then released a shaky sigh and straightened when Dr. Kadowaki came forward.

 

“He's extremely malnourished and weak,” she announced. “Some alcohol poisoning as well. Honestly I can't say for sure what's kept him alive this long.” The doctor shook her head, eyes pained. “All of my medical training tells me he should have been dead about two years ago.”

 

Matron stared at Seifer's now unconscious form, golden eyes narrowed.

 

“Her magic keeps him alive,” she murmured, voice tight and cold with hatred as she pointed to the black mark on his chest. “The dark powers she imbued in him. They sustain his body even after it would have shut down on it's own.”

 

Quistis crossed her arms in an attempt to hide her shudder, staring at the hideous thing. It was about the size of her fist, a circular tattoo-of-sorts that looked like a deformed and malicious dragon head.

 

“So what do we do now? We can't very well let him stay here.”

 

“Can't we?” Matron questioned and Quistis whirled to her, scowling.

 

“Matron, I know that you still have a soft spot for the jerk, but face facts! He turned on us! He betrayed us all for that Sorceress bitch and tried to destroy the entire planet, not to mention exterminate all SeeDs. There's no way in hell he's staying here!” Matron's expression became stubbornly set.

 

“There is no need to tell me what Seifer has done, Quisty. You seem to forget that I was present for most of it.” She turned back to the glass window, sighing. “She knew that he was weak. She knew that he wanted more than anything to feel needed, to feel wanted and special . . . she preyed on it like some kind of vulture.”

 

“Are you saying he was brainwashed?” Dr. Kadowaki questioned and Matron shook her head.

 

“Not quite. Once she made him her Knight, he became dependant upon her but she did not return the bond. As he becomes dependant on her for power and purpose, she should become dependant upon him for strength and protection. It is the nature of a Sorceress and her Knight. Ultimecia did not follow this code. She made him a puppet.” Matron shook her head again, sighing shakily. “And now, without his puppeteer, he is lost and without purpose.”

 

“Why don't you make him your Knight or whatever? That way he'd snap out of whatever the hell's gotten into him.” Matron shook her head violently.

 

“I would not . . . I could not do that to him again,” was the caretaker's vehement response. Then she sneered. “Like as not, he would never accept another bond. Not after what she did to him.” Matron swallowed forcefully. “What was supposed to have been a very beautiful experience was . . . very, very ugly.” Her voice cracked and Quistis had the distinct feeling that she never wanted to know the details of what exactly took place to put that mark in Seifer's skin.

 

“You don't really think that Cid and Squall will let him stay, Matron,” Quistis murmured after a moment. “Not after all that's happened. Let alone trying to convince Seifer.” Matron drew herself up at that, wiping her eyes and then casting Quistis a tiny smile.

 

“You leave the convincing up to Rinoa and myself, dear. I think I'll leave Seifer in your hands. The power of female persuasion can be a very tremendous thing indeed.”

 

~*~

 

Four days later, Quistis sat before a rather harassed looking Squall and Cid, the latter sitting behind the desk of the Headmaster's office.

 

“Edea has informed us that you think we should reinstate Seifer into the SeeD program,” Cid began, scratching at an unshaven chin and casting his wife a slightly annoyed look. Quistis shrugged.

 

“There was never any doubt that he had potential. He just lacked discipline. Working towards such a goal will give him purpose, and might help him overcome the personal demons he's now struggling with.”

 

“Do you realize the kind of risk you're talking about?” Squall questioned, frowning, prussian blue eyes flat like always. Quistis scowled, feeling nettled under his patronizing tone.

 

“I'm well aware of the risks Commander.”

 

“Are you?” Squall pressed, frown deepening. “I'm not so sure, Quistis. I also think you both are underestimating him greatly. Seifer isn't going to roll over and do what you tell him to any more than he did before, I don't care what kind of influence he's been suffering under.” Squall shook his head, a hand rising to rub at the scar across his temple, a nervous twitch he did when he was feeling frustrated or annoyed. “The man's got pride, dammit. A mile thick or more. He's not going to take this `charity mission' well at all.”

 

Quistis stood to resume a more effective fighting stance, her hands catching on her hips.

 

“He's stubborn, yes. Arrogant, most definitely. But stupid? We may have to force him to come back at first but after it's all said and done with he'll see the logic of it and accept things.” Squall's eyebrow raised and Cid shook his head.

 

“Seifer?” the Headmaster demanded, “Logical? Why would he want to stay here, Ms. Trepe? Everyone will be hostile towards him, and we can't blame them one small iota. He nearly cost us all our lives.” Quistis absently bit the inside of her cheek, wavering.

 

Why would he want to stay anywhere else? Why wouldn't he want to come back? Garden was home. It was all she'd ever known, other than the orphanage. Wouldn't it stand to reason that Seifer would feel the same?

 

“Reinstating him into Garden will give him a goal to work toward,” she pressed, subtly bringing the subject away from Seifer's feelings, “a reason to live. That is our goal, gentleman, is it not? To save another man's life?”

 

“And just how do you propose we go about it?” Squall demanded and she sighed.

“We lie to him,” was her immediate and confident response. “Seifer never paid one lick of attention to the finer, logistical points of SeeD. We tell him that he's under contract to finish his training. He did technically sign up for another year just before he left for Timber five years ago. We tell him that if he doesn't agree to go through the training courses he will be fined 5 million gil, the estimated cost of three years worth of training, room and board or thrown in D District prison.”

 

“What will that accomplish, aside from making him even more resentful?” Quistis scowled at the moody Commander, annoyed.

 

“It will give his pride an excuse to accept the offer.”

 

“And after that?”

 

“Start back at the beginning. Dr. Kadowaki says that he will be bedridden for a few more weeks. Physical training will have to be suspended until then. For now he can be retaught all of the basics, from the ground level up. After he's strong enough and well enough, continue with the basic training until he's regained his former physical prowess. Then the written exam, after that, the Field exam. And hopefully he can manage to pass it this time.” The last was added under her breath with a faint roll of her eyes. Cid nodded.

 

“Very well, Quistis. I'm going to go against my better judgment and allow him back in. I'm glad to hear you have such a definitive plan for his education, Ms. Trepe, since you will be overseeing it personally.”

 

Quistis was so elated at hearing that she'd succeeded, at first she didn't comprehend the last of it. When she did her whole body froze, her face draining of color.

 

“What? B-but Headmaster Cid! I-I'm not an Instructor anymore. I couldn't possibly—,”

 

“Your Instructor's license has officially been reinstated, Ms. Trepe, on a trial basis of course. We're giving you one student, and one chance. Succeed, and your license will be reinstated. Fail, however, and you will permenantly loose the chance to be an Instructor ever again.”

 

Cold dread settled in the pit of her belly, and Quistis slowly sank back down into the chair as Cid began droning out the smaller details.

Oh Hyne what have I done? Seifer Almasy had always been her biggest failure . . . and now her very future rested in his hands.