The Sorceress' Curse Chapter 2

By ???

Seifer stared out at the undulating waves that fell against the stone docks of Balamb. He felt…edgy. Of course he had his excuse…he had woken up in a pool of someone else’s blood three times now. But something in the air now chilled him, a new sort of paranoia…not a fear of the night, but a fear that something in the waves, or in the air, or in the rock beneath his feet would jump out and attack him. Maybe something from within him.

Raijin sauntered up from the inn, his arms crossed in his normal, casual fashion, “Seifer..you’re scarin’ me a little, ya know? Staring into the waves…not eating, not doing anything…”

“What can we do?” Seifer snapped back, the hairs on the back of his neck tingling. “It’s supposed to be over, Raijin…over. I don’t know why you’re still hanging around me anyway.”

“Cuz…we’re your friends.” Raijin spoke in a halting tone…he sounded hurt. “I thought…since this was all over that we could live our lives like we used to.”

“But that’s just it, Raijin.” Seifer mentally kicked himself for being so pissy. Raijin was his friend…but then again, their relationship hadn’t been prospering as of late. “It’s not over. Something in this is connected to a sorceress…one of them, I don’t know who – damn them all! If it was all over I wouldn’t be sitting in this hellhole of a town waiting for someone to come hand me a note and tell me what kind of blood to bathe in tomorrow!”

“Calm down! Don’t get so uppity, I was just…I don’t know. Ya know?”

“Yeah.” Seifer fingered the hilt of his gunblade. It was a sorceress…it had to be! Edea…or Ultimecia…but that was impossible…or…he shuddered away the thought. Rinoa.

Seifer stared through eyes that blinked through a coat of red at Rinoa as she stared up at him from a fetal position on the steps below him, eyes frightened and full of tears. The still…dead form of the Sorceress Adel stood behind her. Seifer lowered his hand to grab her shoulder. Rinoa screamed.

He remembered how beautiful she had looked the night of his graduation into the SeeD. She was so forward yet in an oddly attractive way, her eyes glimmering with the joys of youth. And he felt like a fool. He felt like he did now, that nothing he could ever do would gain her attraction…because he was what he was. He was cruel…power-hungry…a monster. A bully. He couldn’t change that – and no matter how much he cried and cursed the sky for it, he couldn’t change how she felt. He couldn’t make her love him.

“Rinoa…” He whispered down into her beautiful face, his lips nearly kissing her beautiful eyes, “This will surely kill me.”

The wind hissed and Seifer jumped, his eyes darting back to sea. Nothing. His imagination was vicous. No…it wasn’t Rinoa. He doubted Rinoa could do wrong. “Raijin…”

“Yeah?”

“I’m getting in a boat and I’m going to the orphanage. I’m going to go ask Edea about her strange fetishes…if you wish to come along, fine, but do you understand? I’m leaving…I’m taking action on my own – I’m slave to no one! Not dead dragons, and not dead sorceresses!” Nor the wind.

--

“What’s up, Squall?” Zell queried, giving Squall a mildly interested eyebrow as the group turned a corner of the street and walked into another section for shops of old books, oddities and antiques. It was boring. Zell could easily say he was already bored, and they hadn’t been there for more than twenty minutes.

Squall just shrugged absently, his eyes examining the bright blue sky, “Nothing really…I just keep hearing things.”

“Nothing too serious I hope? No warnings of world wars and mass destruction, right?’

“No…” Squall half-smiled, “Just the wind.”

“Is it talking to you?” Zell chuckled to himself.

“….”

“Don’t harass him, Zell.” Quistis murmured slyly, “He’s trying to listen.”

Zell grinned ear to ear, and Squall sighed deeply before falling into an even deeper silence and ignoring them completely. The awkward moment was cut off when Selphie literally screamed at an antique store and rushed in, Irvine following suavely behind her. The rest of the group followed, and for the first time in a few minutes, Rinoa spoke up,

“So…I had the dream last night again…with…I don’t know…it scares me, you know? I feel like I did when Adel had me…and…” She broke off with a shiver. Squall kept staring off as if he hadn’t heard her. Zell almost groaned aloud. Poor Rinoa…she was only throwing herself into Squall’s arms, the least he could do was pay attention to her. And poor Squall for being so damn clueless. Quistis clicked her tongue and looked at Zell as if to say that she knew what he was thinking. Zell winked at her.

The idea had crossed his mind that possibly since everyone else in their little posse had hooked up over the past few months…that maybe someday Quistis would fall for him. He wasn’t sure why…why she would fall for him – maybe just because he was the only guy left. Well, he was hot, had a good fashion taste and was good with women…and she was – just… so he had a crush on her.

Quistis’ eyes snapped back to Zell, and he blushed. Had she heard him? “Zell, did you ever ask Cid what he needed around the Garden?” Oh. Damn.

“Umm…well, he didn’t really say-“

“You didn’t ask him. Wonderful.” Quistis sighed and folded her arms, looking disappointedly at him in motherly fashion. Wonderful. “Why am I the only one paying attention…the rest of you are too caught up in dreams and the wind and…” She looked at Zell for a moment, “And…empty-headedness.” Ouch.

“….” Squall stepped toward ‘Ramono’s Wonderful World of Books’

“Sorry Quistis.” Rinoa apologized meekly. “It’s just…disturbing and I want to know why I’m having these, and what that piece of paper said, and why that dragon was cut up and…everything! Why I’m stuck feeling like the Sorceress! I don’t want to be one!”

It seemed like the whole town halted and stared at her for a moment. A little boy clung to his mother fearfully. Zell groaned, “Quistis, remind me not to walk around town with ‘the sorceress’ anymore. We might get lynched!”

“Shh…” Quistis rolled her eyes, “You’re so immature.” Then she turned back to Rinoa, “I know how you feel, but you can’t answer the questions by moping around. If you want to find out why, you need to take action of some kind.”

“Right. Squall, are you going to go in there?” Rinoa called to him.

“….”

“Men.” Quistis growled.

“Hey!” Zell whined. “You’re generalizing!”

“You’re groveling.”

“Then we’ll go and find Selphie…and look for Cid’s present.” Rinoa sighed and turned to the antique shop Selphie and Irvine had entered, pulling her black jacket around her, “It’s a start.”

So they went…the three of them – and Squall continued to listen to the wind. And the wind grew stronger.

--

Irvine leaned lazily against a shelf of useless trinkets and smiled lethargically, watching Selphie bouncing vivaciously around the room. He loved her. It was something about her smile, and the innocent she held even at her age, and how witty she was behind her ditzy demeanor. And that, he concluded, was why he was in the antique shop…because he loved being around her, and he would go through dire straights just to get one more glimpse…even…if it meant parading around grannyville…damn.

Irvine’s fingers itched for his shotgun. Something was in the air today and it wasn’t good. It reminded him on the chill he had felt when Adel fell from the sky. Sorcery was afoot.

“How about this, Irvy?” Selphie cooed at him, holding up a broken clock shaped like a curled up cat. He smiled and nodded methodically. He approved of everything. “Do you think this will go well in our house?” He twitched. Something about the phrase our house sounded really nice.

“Hey Irvy!” Someone sung to him from across the room. Irvine whirled. It was Zell, grinning ear to ear…and then singing…in an offkey baritone, “You make me want to sing – about our love! Oh how beaaaautiful!”

“Shut up.” Irvine growled and blushed. Zell had a big problem with teasing Irvine, probably because he couldn’t get anything himself. Hah…that was it. “Someone jealous?”

“Pff…”

Quistis wandered in behind Zell with Rinoa. Flashing a quick smile, she announced, “Squall is contemplating the weather…apparently something about the wind – anyway – we all ready to go?”

“What are we going to do?” Selphie moved over to rest against Irvine’s shoulder as she waited for the response.

“Going to take the ship to Edea’s house and see if she’s translated the note yet.” Rinoa announced, moving her leg as Angelo burst past her and nuzzled up against Selphie’s leg. Rinoa sighed, “I feel like I’m going to die if I don’t get this resolved – I want to move on with life…but only when all my questions get answered.”

“Well great – let’s round Squall up and head out.” Irvine squeezed Selphie’s arm as he moved away and tipped his hat back so he could see better, “Are you going to tell your dad?”

“No. He’ll just slow things down and make it harder. I’ll apologize later.”

“Right.”

It took a few moments for them to move out into the bright sunshine again, and even longer, all blinking and turning in circles, to find Squall. He was standing in the middle of the street, both hands over his shoulder and clenching the hilt of his sword. Rinoa’s face scrunched into concern as she ran over, “Squall, what’s wrong?”

“….” He paused for a moment, as if he had not heard her. Then a great gust of wind came from behind him and pushed at him and Rinoa. Then he looked down and grabbed her arm, worry painting his face. “I don’t know…but something’s coming.”

“Excuse me, Miss Rinoa?” A voice emerged from the crowded street, and all six turned to view the speaker. He was a tall, broad-shouldered dark man, dashing in a word, garbed in assorted colors and wearing an outdated large pair of sunglasses. An amused smile traced his lips, “I have a note here for you…the man who gave it to me wishes to remain anonymous for the moment…”

“A note?” Rinoa paused for a moment. Squall’s hands tensed on his sword, but she touched his arm and he sighed. “Alright, thank you…” He handed her the message and faded back into the crowd, smile still on his face.

“What is it?” Zell demanded impatiently.

Another strong gust of wind came as she opened the note, and pulled at the tattered paper with a vengeful hunger. Rinoa’s face went pale, her hand falling slowly back down to her side, note clenched between her fingers. The writing was the same, large, foreign symbols painted in the blood of some animal. Perhaps another dragon. But beneath them this time, a hand had written in smaller text, in the same dried blood.

‘You are mine, Sorceress Rinoa.’

Above her head the wind began to howl.

Cold Fusion



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