Vigil of the Fates Chapter 1
Morning
By PeterEliot
With the return of consciousness, the world regains clarity in the streaks of bright morning light pushing through the open window, the chirping sound of birds outside, and the sadly accustomed sight of the doctor looking down on me.
“How are you feeling?” she asks from the bedside.
I think for a second, a difficult task thanks to the acute throbbing pain of the brow that is reducing my whole face to a mass of sore flesh.
“My forehead hurts,” I dumbly say at length. I sit up from the bed and the exertion momentarily intensifies the pain, making me dizzy. My hand involuntarily rises to the bandaged head as if to hold it, but I dare not touch the wound. It indeed hurts damnably.
“No kidding.”
The doctor’s face is far from pleased but not unkind. Looking up, I try weakly to grin at her to show that I am fine and manage instead a pathetic grimace.
“It looks like your eyes are focusing again. That’s good. Say your name for me?”
“Squall.” I throw another quick scowl in the doctor’s direction, this time in annoyance. She seems to be concerned that I might have more than one kind of head injury. I wasn’t hit that hard. The bastard... I wonder if he is also lying down somewhere in the infirmary now. A part of me likes to think that I’ve done that to him, that I’ve repaid him in kind, but a greater part of me will rather endure anything but the sight of him at the moment.
Dr. Kadowaki’s voice ends my train of thought. “Why don’t you take it easy in training? An inch to either direction would have slashed one of your eyes instead of the forehead—next time you might not be so lucky.”
“Tell that to Seifer,” I say sullenly.
“That Seifer...” The doctor frowns as she considers. “He certainly won’t listen to anyone. Why don’t you just ignore him?”
“Well, I can’t just run from him.”
“Listen to yourself, child; you are no less stubborn than he is. So you’ll be a tough fellow, hmm? Well, then at least try to find a better way of being one than getting yourself carved up.”
The woman is actually smirking, and I have to remind myself to ignore her. She goes on: “Let’s see... your instructor was... of course, Quistis. I’ll go call her. You just wait here; you had better get a little more rest before heading out on your own feet.”
While the doctor talks on the phone, I recline back on the bed, gingerly laying a forearm over my eyes and nose to relieve an uncomfortable pressure from within that makes me fancy that my head is swelling. Now there’s a thought... But I try not to think at all, and close my eyes to rest. If what I’ve heard is true, then I really need to rest, today more than ever. What a day I’ve picked for this to happen!
* * * * * * * *
“Squall... so we meet again.”
At first the words, low and soft and belonging to an utterly unfamiliar voice, do not fully register on my pain-addled consciousness. Once they do, I turn my head to my right to find a young woman in blue beyond the tinted infirmary window. She is bending to take a good look at me. I, on the other hand, cannot see her face well at all, due to the angle and the dark glass. But she is no one I know. Before I say a word, she walks off.
Who was it?