Seifer's Sacrifice Chapter 2

“What do you think you’re doing?” Seifer scolded softly, dragging his young friend behind a large plant in the main hall of the Garden.

A small group of C Class SeeDs walked passed the two hidden cadets without taking any notice. A gasp escaped her mouth as Seifer released his hand when the mercenaries were far off, most likely heading for the cafeteria. Seifer always enjoyed causing trouble and bending every rule, so close that some would say he actually broke some. But, never did he enjoy being caught and then suffer for his actions. Two things the young cadet never did, for the consequences could prove dire indeed. Seifer never cheated and he never left his dorm when lights were out, for if he was caught doing either of those he would be expelled immediately.

“Alright, the coast is clear. Let’s go,” she enthusiastically said.

“Wait,” Seifer called out. “We can’t get into the Training Center. We don’t have—”

“A keycard,” she cut in with a mischievous smile and waving a keycard in Seifer’s face.

“How did you…” he began but decided to let it drop. The truth was he would rather not know.

The light to the Training Center’s door lock was flashing red. Sliding the card through the decoding slip; the door immediately unlocked and the signal light began flashing green.

With a deep breath, Seifer’s friend steadied herself by caressing her hand crossbow. This was her moment of truth. Once the door before her opened, there would be no turning back. Her instructor made it clear that if she didn’t pass this test, she would be held back for another year. She wanted to be the youngest member of SeeD, at the tender age of fourteen. With a nervous smile, she turned to her friend.

“Do you have your gunblade, Seifer?”

Awakening with a start, the ex-mercenary’s eyes began to dart around his dark surroundings. He sat in a soft bed in some sort of bunker, surrounded by steel and wood. The room itself moved from left to right, swaying in a none-to-gentle rhythm. The room was also cold and stuffy, like one would feel as if they were buried alive.

Checking himself for anything out of the ordinary, only his gunblade was missing. Realizing the missing weapon set the ex-mercenary on his guard as the memory of being bombarded by lightning returned. But how did he get here? And where was here? Then it hit him and hard. The last few moments he remembered was fighting his sentient gunblade and then there was a flash.

That must have been it, he thought. He must have been hit by one of the bolts. That in itself did not startle Seifer, for he was alive, but for such a force of electricity to put down one of his caliber in one blast scared him. He took the shock of the strongest wielder of magic and their Thundaga, the highest level of lightning magic straight in the chest without taking too much damage. For something like that, which almost killed him, it had to be extremely raw, powerful and nothing short of a natural bolt of lightning.

A rap on his door drew his attention back to the present. Fujin and Raijin strolled into their wounded friend’s chamber, hoping he was awake. Seeing that his friend was up and conscious put Raijin in motion to tackle his friend in a large hug. Fjujin wanted nothing more than to join her brave, dark-skinned friend in an embrace but common sense held her in place, until she felt an urge to step to the side as a flying Raijin went out the open door.

“Where are we?” Seifer asked, dusting himself off.

“OCEAN!” shouted the platinum hair woman.

“On a boat, huh? How did we get here?”

“We carried you all the way to dis here boat, ya know. We had some change and the captain gave us passage, ya know,” Raijin explained after he got back up, waving his hand in front of his face, as if he smelled something no one else could.

Seifer was about to ask about the tavern when a word perked his interest. Moving with a purpose out of the room, Seifer went out to see if he was mistaken. Crewmen ran up and down the hall and up and down the main stair leading to the upper deck. Another crewman ran to the edge of the portal leading down into the hall, crying a very familiar word.

“SQUALL!”

It’s been three years since his defeat by his rival, a defeat that left him with a broken pride and broken spirit. Never will the ex-mercenary forget his rival’s face or his name. Believing that Squall came to see what happened to Lucky’s tavern, always the hero, Seifer began his climb above deck.

What awaited him was not his childhood rival. Out in the distance and closing fast, thick black clouds trampled over each other in the sky. The ocean’s waves became choppy, having no real direction for the large sailboat to carry them. Within the clouds, lightning shrieked across the sky as a downpour pounded against the water below. At that moment, as the squall engulfed the boat and her crew in its deadly grip, did Seifer wish that he really did see his old rival.

Almost losing control of his bodily functions, the ex-mercenary yelped and dropped to the deck as a bolt of lightning slammed into the bird’s nest. Down came the main mass, falling onto the deck like a mighty tree crushing all other life in its way. Once the mass collided with the deck, the ship bowed in the middle yet as luck would have it, it did not break the boat in half.

Lifting his head from his prone position, Seifer gazed at the commotion that immediately came over the crew. Half of the twenty began scrabbling to save the ropes connected to the mass while the other half tried to keep the last two sails from shredding in the wind. Everyone seemed to know their place and what needed to be done, for the roar of the wind and the thunder and the waves crashing against the hall would’ve drowned out any chance of communication, even if someone was going to scream in another’s ear.

A touch to his back caught the ex-mercenary’s attention, drawing him away from the chaos. Fujin was trying to lift him from the deck, mouthing some word that Seifer couldn’t make out. A loose boom came flying free behind Fujin. Before he could draw her to the deck, the wooden battering ram struck Fujin hard against her shoulder blades, launching her overboard.

Raijin, seeming to have predicted her flying course, snapped out and caught one of Fujin’s arms before she would’ve plunged into the icy waters. Her relief lasted only a heartbeat as Raijin was slowly losing his grip with her slick, wet arm. As Fujin’s arm slipped down, both snapped out to grasp the other’s hand. As a last chance to hold onto Raijin as he moved with the ship, Fujin grabbed his hand with her free hand, holding on for dear life.

Raijin tried to cry out over the storm but he couldn’t be heard. The dark-skinned man began lifting his friend back on deck, however, the terror that was the squall continued its assault by hitting the boat with its waves, causing Raijin to lose his grip every time he tried to pull Fujin up. Again the water that drenched their hands made it impossible to keep their hands locked. With a huge wave crashing against their side of the boat, Raijin lost his close friend.

Another hand grabbed Fujin at that same moment, leaping over the railing and hooking his legs against the banister. Twisting his hand within her shirt, Seifer attempted to have his hand get tied up inside her bra to keep them bound together. Sitting up, over the railing, Seifer dropped back on deck with his friend in tow.

It took awhile for the trio to make their way back below deck with Seifer’s hand still stuck in Fujin shirt. Once below, the ex-mercenary and his friend managed to untangle themselves. Any crewman watching them thought it was quite humorous, even with the deadly storm around them. One crewman even shouted out “the clips are in the back” but the trio took it all in stride. They’ve been friends for years and the respect that they’ve always shown for one another—Seifer in his own way—they weren’t embarrassed in the slightest; it was quite the opposite. Who knows what could have happened if Seifer didn’t do his daring move to get a good hold on Fujin. So once the two were no longer intertwined, they stood, staring at the other and simply nodded to the other.



On a raft, sitting cross-legged and with his arms crossed against his thin chest, the crazed one stared out with admiration at the torn, battered, and one sail remaining on the broken boat. The squall ravaged the ship forcefully and he even saw one of the targets fall off the ship and was saved. First by her dark-skinned companion and again by the one who the crazed one thought was to be selfish. As the old man watched from his raft as the crew, along with the three targets, worked on getting the boat underway, did he come to respect these people.

Yes, he would let them go in peace. He didn’t really care what happened to the two men and the woman anyways. And watching the crew, now laughing and appearing more full life, did the crazed one come to understand that the others in his tribe were in serious trouble if they think these three could be killed easily. At that moment, he had to ask himself, did he really care?

Chapter 3

All That Glitters Is Cold 4 Fanfic Competition


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