Curious as a Cat - Part Two (Ch. 8 - Epilogue) (Esthar Chronicles 1) (Final Fantasy VIII fanfiction)

[deemoyza]

Title: Curious as a Cat (69,565 words)
Chapters: 14
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Rating/Warnings: Teen / No warnings apply
Character(s): Quistis Trepe, Original Characters
Relationships: Quistis/Original Male Character
Summary: For much of her life, Quistis hasn't been particularly inquisitive. But an unusual sighting on the skyways of Esthar rekindles her curiosity and leads to an encounter that renews her sense of purpose and passion for knowledge, and just might help her find her place in the world.
Notes: Part 1 of the Esthar Chronicles series

Chapters

Part One (Chapters 1-7)
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Epilogue

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Chapter 8

Quistis awoke on the couch in her apartment, still wearing her work clothes. She sat up and shook her head, then looked at the clock. It was just after five in the morning. She groaned and buried her face in her hands as memories of the previous evening came rushing back.

How quickly everything had changed! One minute, she'd felt relieved that the experiments had finished, and eager to interpret the data and begin her report; the next, it seemed, she was walking toward the lift station, berating herself for giving in to her baser instincts. She couldn't deny that there had been some very pleasurable moments in between, but at what cost had she indulged them?

At the cost of her professionalism, to be sure. Her reputation. Her credibility, most definitely...

She was angry, and she wanted desperately to direct that anger outward—toward Argider, specifically, for being so charming, so inviting, so responsive—but she recognized her role in the whole matter. If she had told him early on that she wasn't interested, she was confident he would have backed off. But she was interested, and had been so since nearly the beginning, and she'd followed her attraction, her curiosity, her desire straight into this awkward situation.

She sighed and rose from the couch. She'd been so fatigued by the turn of events last night that she'd fallen asleep almost as soon as she sat down. Now, she gathered her belongings from where she'd tossed them onto the floor, changed into more comfortable clothes, and powered on her computer. The screen still showed the data she'd been processing before the incident in the laboratory, a reminder that, despite the turmoil in her heart, nothing else had changed at all. She collected her notes and the stack of printouts from the battle simulator and settled in.

There was work to do.

⁂

When she next looked at the clock, it was nearly half past ten. She had interpreted and logged all of the statistics, identified patterns and outliers, and created a rough outline for her report. She'd referenced the style manuals she'd borrowed from the library and began drafting the introductory segment. She was both satisfied with her work and tired of it, but she couldn't rest. Every time she let her mind wander from the subject at hand, it immediately traveled back to the evening before.

When she could no longer differentiate between the statistical models before her, however, she reluctantly set her work aside. She opened the blinds across her balcony door and looked out onto a gray, drizzly day. People hurried along the skyways beneath colorful umbrellas, or bundled in waterproof jackets. She opened the door and breathed in the scent of rain, shivering as a cold gust blew in from the north. Even the weather was restless today. It seemed everywhere she turned, she saw a reflection of her tumultuous thoughts.

Standing in the kitchen and nibbling on a piece of dry toast, Quistis tried to focus on something pleasant, preferably unrelated to her sabbatical at all. She looked toward the corner of the counter, and the yellow gingham cover of Selphie and Rinoa's cookbook caught her eye. She flipped through its pages, smiling at the photographs of completed recipes, and found the perfect diversion. Preparing a meal would keep both her mind and her hands busy, and provide her with a practical, tangible result. Or so she hoped.

She chose a hearty-looking dish whose recipe did not seem too complicated, and began to jot down a list of ingredients. Then, she put on her jacket and grabbed her purse, and headed toward the nearest market.

There, she looked at the food with a newfound appreciation, studying the colors and textures and smells of the products before her, letting these details fill her mind and sweep aside all of the embarrassment, worry, and stress that plagued her, if only for a few moments. Her thoughts did return to her projects—and to Argider—on her walk back to the apartment, and she indulged her confusion to the rhythm of the raindrops against her hood, but once inside, she concentrated on the task at hand.

Chopping vegetables, measuring ingredients, timing the cooking process to the second—she found the entire pursuit to be strangely comforting. With everything under careful control, she felt her mind and her emotions stabilize, and for the first time since the previous evening, she could breathe easily.

The finished product looked nothing like the picture in the cookbook. Disappointed, Quistis nonetheless ventured a taste, and found that what the dish lacked in aesthetic quality, it more than made up for in flavor. She served herself a generous portion, then sat at the table to enjoy her late lunch and watch the clouds split and regroup over the city.

As she finished, she congratulated herself, then wondered how surprised Argider would be to discover that she could prepare something other than processed skill-bearing items. She set down her fork and frowned when she realized what was happening. The dish she'd prepared had been a small triumph for her, and the first person she'd thought of sharing her accomplishment with hadn't been either of the ladies who'd assembled the cookbook for her, but Argider. He was the first person who came to mind in a lot of situations lately, and she now felt doubly foolish for having run away the night before.

Perhaps she had been remembering the wrong parts of the evening all along; before the kiss and after, he'd said so many kind things to her. Since she'd begun working with him, he'd only made her feel better about herself, supporting her at every turn, lifting her spirits and her confidence when she felt overwhelmed.

And how had she repaid him? By doubting him, by accusing him of being irrational, by running away.

As difficult as Quistis found it to trust others, it was even harder to trust her own judgment. She'd been wrong before, and it had hurt very badly. There was a chance, however slim, that Argider was being insincere, a chance that she was only courting pain. But if she didn't take that risk, she might lose him for good, and that outcome would be beyond painful. It would be intolerable.

Waiting out the weekend was not going to work.

But waiting out Retta's shift would have to.

⁂

The signs on the shops and restaurants glowed and reflected off of the wet pavement. Quistis walked through the puddles, grateful for the rain and the excuse it provided to wear her hood, for the anonymity the hood provided, should Retta still be in the neighborhood. When she reached the library, she peered through the doors and saw Argider sitting at the front desk, leaning back in his chair and reading what looked suspiciously like a paperback novel. Quistis removed her hood and tried to shed the excess water from her jacket in the vestibule, and when she triggered the second set of automatic doors, Argider looked up.

His eyes widened and he sat up straight, setting down his book. "Quistis," he said, "I didn't expect to see you today. Is everything all right?"

Quistis watched him rise and walk around the desk to meet her, and the eloquent preamble she'd rehearsed slipped away. "I don't need the weekend to cool off, and I don't need time to think things over," she said. "Because there's nothing to think over. What happened last night has preoccupied me all day, and I know the only way to fix that is to talk about it, and the only person I need to talk to is you.

"I'm sorry," she went on, "not for what I did, but for how I reacted. I was scared. Up until last night, it had all been just a concept, a thrilling daydream. But then it became very real, very quickly. And… I guess I just didn't know how to handle it. I still don't, truthfully. I'm not used to affection; I don't know how to give it, and apparently, I'm terrible at receiving it graciously. I made excuses—professional integrity, the need to focus on the project—to extricate myself from an unfamiliar situation that seemed to be slipping out of my control. But avoiding it, avoiding you, has been more distracting than anything else."

She finally paused, her breath coming quick, her throat burning with restrained emotion. Argider looked at her with a mixture of concern and relief, then pulled her into an embrace, heedless of any patrons that might enter, of what passersby might glimpse from the street, of the moisture soaking into his shirt from the raindrops that remained on her jacket. She returned the gesture, holding him tightly, inhaling the scent of his cologne and listening to his heartbeat.

"Oh, Quistis," he sighed, stroking her hair. "I've been out of sorts today, too, thinking about it. I kept replaying it in my head, wondering whether I did something wrong, whether I misread your intent, afraid I might have driven you away. That's the last thing I wanted to do."

"You did nothing wrong. I instigated it. I wanted more, and I still do. And that's what terrifies me." She leaned back to look up at him. "What am I becoming? Just another silly woman in thrall to her emotions? I've followed a strong feeling before, and it only led to disappointment and hurt. I thought I'd learned my lesson, but I've done it again, and this time I've also squandered any professional respect I might have earn—"

She stopped talking when he pressed a finger to her lips. "What are you saying?" he said. "You haven't squandered anything. Do you honestly believe I think less of you in a professional capacity because of what's developed between us?"

She shrugged, and he moved his hands to her shoulders, holding her a few inches away from him and looking into her eyes.

"Like I told you last night—"

"When you agreed you weren't being rational—"

"I meant every word I said last night, and I mean them even more now. I like all of you, from your intelligence and your competence right down to your stubbornness. Only a fool would think to discard everything he already admired about you just because he discovered something new. You are not 'silly,' and you're certainly not 'in thrall' to your emotions; you're a human being with real feelings. I've really appreciated your honesty with me right now, so please don't start lying to yourself."

"I'm not normal," she said, "and you can probably figure out why. All of this is unfamiliar territory to me, and, if I am being honest, it's overwhelming."

"It doesn't have to be. Maybe what happened in the lab was too much, too soon. We can always move more slowly. I just like being with you, in whatever way you're comfortable with at the moment."

Quistis smiled. "Thank you. I'm quite fond of your company, myself. But are you sure slowing down won't be a problem?"

"Very sure." He grinned mischievously. "Besides, it gives something to look forward to."

She chuckled and looked down, her eyes widening when she saw the large wet spots left on his shirt from the rain that was still on her jacket when he'd hugged her. "Oh no, your shirt!"

Argider looked at his shirt, then shrugged. "It'll dry," he said. "Or perhaps I should run outside for a bit to make everything uniform?"

"Now you're being silly."

"Maybe. And you look like you're feeling better."

"I am. I'm glad I decided to speak with you. I don't know how I would've passed the weekend with all that running through my brain."

"Same here." He rubbed her arms lightly. "You're staying, right?" When Quistis nodded and began removing her jacket, Argider took a chair from the nearest table and moved it behind the front desk. "Come on, then. We can raid Retta's chocolate stash."

By the time Quistis sat down, Argider had heaped two handfuls of foil-wrapped candies onto the desk. He glanced at her. "Don't look at me like that," he said. "I'll replace them. I'm not a monster."

"You'd better," Quistis said, smiling. "It's not wise to get between somebody and their chocolate. It could even be dangerous." She unwrapped a piece and popped it in her mouth, letting it melt and carry her tension away with it. The resolution of the confusion of the past twenty-four hours only intensified her feelings for Argider. With the knowledge that he cared for her as a complete person no matter the nature of their interactions, her world began to stabilize. She felt safe with him, knowing that whatever she gave him of herself, he would protect, and she silently vowed to do the same for him.

As the last of the chocolate melted away, she glanced at the book Argider had been reading, then reached over and picked it up.

"What's this? The Second Treason: Book Three of the Midwinter King Saga." She turned it over and read the summary on the back cover. "So, I assume this is where you picked up your archaic seduction techniques," she said.

"Seduction?" Argider feigned innocence.

"What else do you call what you were trying to do the other night? Gallantry this, 'lady' that. 'What doth the lady desire?'"

"Damsel."

"What?"

"It's 'what doth the damsel desire?' The alliteration's important. It's very disarming." He smiled at her and reclaimed the novel.

"Is it, now?"

"Hey, it worked in the book! Extremely well, I might add."

Quistis started laughing, and Argider joined her. "I wouldn't have guessed you read books like this," she said.

"I go through enough reference books and technical papers for work," he said. "In my spare time, I like to read something a little less challenging, something fun. You read for pleasure, too, don't you?"

"I do."

"So, what kind of books do you read?"

Quistis unwrapped another chocolate. "Oh, whatever's available," she said noncommittally.

Argider studied her. "You're being uncharacteristically vague, so I'm going to assume it's something really embarrassing, like trashy romance novels. Historical bodice-rippers, perhaps?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, what is it, then?"

"Medical thrillers. And forensic mysteries. They stretch believability sometimes, but they appeal to my logical sensibilities while being very entertaining."

"Hmm, seems about right. I can't imagine they're for the faint of heart, though, or the weak of stomach. How do you fare with the gruesome details?"

"Taken in perspective, they're nothing. I did eat a Malboro tentacle, remember?"

"Ah yes, Quistis Trepe, the toughest blue mage. I suppose that's something you'll lord over me for the rest of my days." He grinned at her, but as they both realized the implications of what he said, the dwindling pile of chocolates suddenly became intensely interesting.

After several seconds passed in silence, Argider reached out and turned Quistis' face toward his. "I'm glad you came by tonight," he said.

"So am I."

⁂

Argider gathered the chocolate wrappers, crumpled them, and shoved them into his jacket pocket while Quistis teased him about destruction of evidence.

"I said I'd replace them, and I will," he said. "But if Retta discovers just how many are missing, I might not live long enough to do so."

Quistis zipped up her jacket and walked into the vestibule. Through the doors, she could see that the rain had stopped, and a fog was descending in its place. Argider followed her out, then locked the doors behind him.

"So," he said, "regarding this new aspect of our relationship, how long do you think we'll be able to keep Retta out of the loop?"

"I hate to say it, but I think Retta was in the loop before either one of us," Quistis replied.

"You're probably right. She's going to gloat about that."

"Let her."

The lights of the city took on an ethereal glow in the fog, and all of its sounds felt muted. People walked past, hazy specters in the street, and it felt to Quistis like the real world had shrunk to include only Argider and herself.

"You know," Argider said, as he accompanied her toward the lift station, "since we're going to take this slowly, you're going to have to help me out. I'm not a mind-reader, so please, let me know when you're uncomfortable, when I'm pushing too hard."

"I will." Quistis studied the distorted reflections on the wet sidewalk. "Are you really sure it's not a problem?"

"I'm positive. I don't want to frighten you, or hurt you. I want you to be happy, I want you to feel safe." He paused. "I want you in my life, and I want you to want to be in it, too."

Quistis stopped, fighting the flood of tears that rushed to her eyes, not trusting herself to move as they blurred her vision.

"What's wrong?" Argider asked. "Is this one of those situations?"

She shook her head, pressing her hand against her mouth until she was sure her words wouldn't come out as a sob. "There's nothing wrong," she said at last. "I just never imagined… I never thought I'd hear anyone say that to me." She sighed. "Thank you, so much. Rest assured that I want to be a part of your life. And I want you in mine, too."

She slid her arm around him, and he reciprocated, resting a protective hand on her shoulder. As they continued down the street, Quistis glanced up and noticed that he was watching her intently, a dreamy smile on his lips.

She grinned back. "I meant every word I said, and I'm very flattered that you enjoy looking at me, but perhaps you'd better mind where you're going. You and sidewalks don't seem to get along, especially after a rain, and I don't want to get dragged down with you this time."

"I'll never live that down, will I?" he said, then kissed her cheek before facing forward again.

The lift was departing as they approached the stairs to the skyway. Quistis groaned in frustration, but Argider seemed more than happy to remain with her until the next lift arrived. They chatted about inconsequential matters, and, both being slightly giddy, they were quick to laugh at the smallest provocation.

"A weekend never seemed so long as the one that lies before me now," Argider said. "Maybe I'm being too forward, but I don't suppose you'd mind having dinner with me tomorrow evening?"

"No, not at all," Quistis replied. "I'd love to. The same restaurant as last time?"

"Well, that's hardly a romantic spot…"

"But the food was very good."

"No argument there. The same restaurant it is, then! Is 1900 hours okay?"

"That's fine by me."

"But please," he said, "allow me to pay for your dinner this time."

Quistis pretended to think it over. "Very well," she said, "it's a date."

As the signal for an incoming lift sounded, he pulled her close and kissed her goodnight. He waited as she boarded the lift, and she waved to him as the shield materialized around her.

⁂

The success of the distillate method of introduction opens the door to other methods of skill delivery, some of which may eliminate the need for ingestion and the physical stress of skill usage altogether. These methods are still in the initial stages of research and development, but if they are successful, the blue mage of the future will be more powerful, more resilient, and have a wider range of skills at their disposal than ever before.

- N. Devres, Chaos in a Capsule: The Development, Usage, and Implications of Skill-Bearing Distillates

Quistis wondered what the "other methods" mentioned by the author might be as she worked on the draft of the final section of the curriculum. She supposed details of their development were closely guarded, but entertained the idea that she might be able to mine some information about them from Argider. She glanced at him and tried to gauge from his expression what he must be thinking as he read through the draft of the lab report she'd placed on his desk that morning.

Much of her apprehension about establishing a romantic relationship with Argider came from the fear that it would significantly change their working one. She needn't have worried. Though their conversations had taken on a new level of intimacy, during work hours, Argider maintained a professional distance from her, and avoided physical contact. A "monumental effort," he called it, and admitted that it was the only way he could properly focus on his work. Quistis appreciated this arrangement, especially the increase in productivity it inspired when she found that the hours seemed to pass more quickly the harder she concentrated on her work.

She looked forward to their nightly walk to the lift station, and to whatever plans they may have made for the weekend. More than that, however, she looked forward to the woman she was becoming in the warmth of his affection and encouragement—equal parts strong and tender, smart and lighthearted. He was secure enough in his own identity to not be intimidated by everything she could be, and her realization that embracing all aspects of her personality did not diminish who she was translated into true confidence that extended to all areas of her life.

None of this was lost on Retta, who had picked up on the subtle change in both Quistis and Argider the first morning they were all back at work. She congratulated herself for having called this result from the get-go, and couldn't resist gently teasing them about having taken so long to get to this point. She even pardoned Argider for the stolen chocolates, suggesting he give the ones he'd bought to Quistis, instead.

Quistis resumed her work. While preparing the curriculum reminded her of her official job, Garden had become more of a concept to her than a real place, even though she was due to return there in less than two months. Her departure from Esthar was the only cloud on her horizon right now, and she'd avoided discussing it with Argider, figuring that since it was inevitable, it could wait until the last possible moment to be addressed. She was happy, and she wanted to hold onto this feeling and keep the real world at bay for as long as possible.

She looked up when Argider said her name. He pointed to the report in front of him and smiled.

"For the most part," he said, "this is a well-written report. I've only made a few suggestions, and they're in regard to readability." He closed the report and looked at the cover, and his smile faded. "However," he continued, "I have found a single, serious error, and I'm afraid that it will require you to rewrite an entire page."

"What?" Quistis asked. Suddenly, every element of the report, from the statistics and conclusions to her writing and the formatting, sprang to mind, each infused with a measure of doubt. "Is it a statistical error? I checked the numbers several times over. Did I neglect to mention a set of statistics? Did I format a chart incorrectly?"

Argider shook his head in response to each of her questions and motioned her toward the desk. He turned the report around so that she could read it, but did not open it. Quistis relaxed. It was only a formatting error, then. But where? She looked at the title, at their names below it, at the laboratory information and the date.

"I suppose I formatted the cover incorrectly," she said. "But how? I could've sworn it matched the template in the style manual."

Argider did not answer her question directly; instead, he uncapped his pen and drew a bold line through his own name. "That's what the acknowledgment section is for," he said, the trace of a grin returning.

Quistis stared at him.

"I provided the space and equipment for the experiment, and I helped to secure test subjects," he explained. "But the experiment itself—the hypothesis, method, execution, and report—was all yours. As is the credit."

Relief and gratitude flooded Quistis' heart. She looked alternately at Argider and the edited report cover, and she intended to thank him profusely, but when she opened her mouth, the first sound out of her was a loud, awkward giggle.

"Hey," Retta called from the front desk, "no hanky-panky during work hours!"

This only made both of them laugh, even as Argider assured Retta she had the wrong idea. When their laughter quieted, Argider handed Quistis the report.

"Fix it," he said.

"I will," she replied. "And thank you. Another person might not have said anything, and I'd have been none the wiser." She paused. "This isn't some display of favoritism, is it?"

"I'd have done the same no matter what you decided after that evening in the lab. It's only the right thing to do. You work so hard, it's time you were recognized for that." He grinned. "It's time the world got to know Quistis Trepe."

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Chapter 9

As the end of the year approached, Retta grew increasingly excited. It was a time of festivities in Esthar, from the celebration of the solstice to the beginning of a new year, and she was wrapped up in preparations.

"It's not just the dinners and the parties," she told Quistis, "though there's no denying that those are incredibly enjoyable. It's the little rituals and everything they symbolize; it's the continuation of traditions that link us to the farmers and the herders from whom we're descended, traditions that not even a dictatorial sorceress could suppress. We're not only celebrating the occasions themselves, but also our own resilience and tenacity, as Estharians and as humans."

"What do the celebrations entail?" Quistis asked.

Retta launched into an explanation, prefacing it with a quick history lesson, then frequently interrupting herself and doubling back to clarify important details. Finally, she gave up, and turned toward Quistis, her eyes sparkling with a new idea.

"It's difficult to properly explain without a frame of reference," she said, "but perhaps firsthand experience might convey more than my words ever could. Would you like to join us for the solstice? You and Argider, both?"

"I really appreciate your invitation, but won't your husband mind?"

"Not at all! We have plenty of room for guests, and we always end up preparing far too much food for our little family. I've been inviting Argider for years, but the man always has an inexplicable bout of humility and insists he'd only be an imposition. Maybe you could change his mind." She winked at Quistis.

"It does sound tempting."

"Please consider it. You two lovebirds have all of the new year's holiday to enjoy each other's company. The solstice is for family."

"Family?" Quistis blinked. "In that case, I really would be imposing."

Retta shook her head. "Relatives are determined by blood. Family is determined by bonds. And I feel we've bonded well in the time we've worked together." She smiled. "In these past months, I've watched you blossom, from a smart but slightly stiff young lady into an intelligent, confident, accomplished woman. One who still finds time to listen to me prattle on. How can I not consider you family?"

"Thank you, Retta."

"It's my pleasure."

Quistis frowned. "But what about Argider?"

"What about Argider?" Argider emerged from between the shelves, carrying a stack of papers that he laid on Retta's desk. He grinned. "Are you ladies gossiping about me? Whatever you heard, it's all lies."

"Retta was telling me about the solstice celebrations," Quistis said.

"Ah.  Has she invited you yet?"

"Yes. But that's not what concerns me. She said the holiday is popularly celebrated among family, but she also says she's invited you in the past. Do you have no one to celebrate with?"

"I do, but I choose not to. It's nothing dramatic—they haven't disowned me or anything, and we actually get along very well. But they all live quite far from here. I have one sister, who lives with her husband and young daughter in the Vienne Mountains. Her husband is an engineer for the local mine, and she works as a bookkeeper for the same company. After my parents retired from their jobs here, they relocated there to be near their grandchild. I can't blame them; it's a nice respite from the bustle of the city."

"So why don't you spend the holiday with them?"

"Because I don't want to relive the holiday of five years ago. I'm not used to very cold weather to begin with, and that year, a blizzard came through that snowed us in for three days. We had no electricity, the remains of the holiday meal only stretched into the second day, and my niece, who was still an infant at the time, became inconsolable. It was a stressful situation for all of us." Argider chuckled. "I still speak with my family on the holiday, but I have let them know that I will not visit until after the spring thaw."

"And still he refuses to spend the solstice with us," Retta said, going through the paperwork he'd brought her. "We don't even run the risk of being snowed in."

"I'll go if Quistis goes," Argider said.

Retta brightened. "You will?"

"Sure. In the past, I've felt awkward being the only outsider there. If she goes, then we can be awkward together."

"Both of you have a remarkable talent for constructing obstacles out of thin air." She turned toward Quistis. "Well, what do you say? You'll have another familiar face there, a nice meal, and a firsthand observation of the celebration. Doesn't seem like a bad way to spend the longest night of the year."

"No, it doesn't," Quistis said, smiling. "Count me in, Retta, and thank you, again."

⁂

"The details of the invitation certainly were unusual," Quistis said, as she met Argider at the lift station closest to Retta's home. She adjusted the duffel bag on her shoulder. "I was expecting dinner, and perhaps some socializing, but not an overnight stay. I fear I'm taking advantage of her hospitality."

Argider hoisted his own bag. "It's part of the celebration, a tradition known as the Dawnwatch." He caught Quistis' perplexed expression and continued. "It's exactly what it sounds like. Each member of the household takes their turn watching the sky for the first light of dawn, usually while minding a small lantern to make sure the candle inside doesn't burn out. Retta will probably elaborate on this, but it has its roots in the culture of the nomadic herders who were the first Estharians.

"The reasoning behind it was that the darkness conceals threats—in the herders' case, natural predators who could harm their animals—and that those already vulnerable become even more so during the night. So, just as the herders watched over their flocks and herds until the sun rose, braving the elements, we do the same, to remind us of the sacrifice and dedication that gave rise to our society, and to remember those among us who could still use some protection."

"That's a lovely sentiment," said Quistis.

Argider grinned. "Remind yourself of that when you're shivering outside tonight, looking at a little lantern."

When they arrived at Retta's apartment, Retta's husband greeted them warmly, ushering inside and taking their bags. He turned down a hallway, but doubled back, looking bashful.

"Umm, Retta was… unsure of the, er, specifics of your situation," he stammered, "so we prepared both the guest room and my office. I have to say the office is significantly smaller than the guest room, though."

"I'll take that one, then," Argider said. "Thanks, Haren."

"Poor Haren," said Quistis, "given such an uncomfortable task. Retta could've asked us beforehand."

"Absolutely not," Retta called from the kitchen. "That's a sensitive subject, and I'm not one to pry into others' personal lives."

Quistis and Argider looked at each other, then at Haren, and all three began laughing.

After Haren had delivered the bags to their respective rooms and joined his wife in the kitchen, their two sons ventured into the living room to investigate the visitors. They immediately recognized Argider, and seemed thrilled that he'd finally decided to spend the holiday with them. They were more subdued around Quistis, quietly studying her, no doubt furiously scanning their flighty childish memories to place her. Suddenly, the younger boy's eyes grew perfectly round, and he pointed at her.

"You're the airship lady," he exclaimed.

"Airship lady?" Argider asked, looking at Quistis.

"Yeah," the older boy chimed in. "She flew the Ragnarok! And her friends are real, live pilots!"

"You don't say? Well, now I need details."

"It's a long story," Quistis said.

Argider leaned back on the couch, hands behind his head, and stretched his legs out in front of him. "It's a holiday. I've got nothing but time."

"Very well."  Quistis launched into a truncated account of the events of three years ago. The boys waited patiently for mention of the airship, then drifted away as the story moved on to time travel and positive thinking.

"Wow," Argider said when she'd finished. "Kiros told me that you were part of that group of SeeDs, but it seems he left out quite a bit. As did you. Why didn't you ever mention it?"

"I didn't think it was pertinent information."

"Piloting Esthar's flagship is always pertinent information."

"So, what would you suggest I do, incorporate it into my introduction? 'Hello, I'm Quistis Trepe, and I once flew the Ragnarok.'"

"You can't deny it has a nice ring to it."

Quistis chuckled and shook her head. She settled back, leaning against Argider and taking in the aromas and light chatter drifting in from the kitchen, basking in the warmth and comfort of a space made into a home.

⁂

The cold, dry wind sliced through every layer Quistis wore, and she gratefully accepted a blanket from Retta. She sat in a chair on the balcony, next to Argider, and looked at the small lantern sitting in front of her.

Retta's two sons had taken the first shift of the Dawnwatch immediately after dinner, bundling up and enjoying their dessert outside. Retta and Haren alternated duties in the hours after the boys went to bed, and now, approaching one in the morning, it was Quistis' and Argider's turn. Retta brewed a fresh pot of coffee and brought several new candles and a lighter out to the balcony.

"The original candle never quite makes it through the night," she said. "Try to light the new candle with the flame of the old one first, but if that fails, use the lighter. Just don't let one flame go out before the other is lit."

"You can count on us," Argider said, pulling down his cap to cover his ears.

"Continuity is extremely important." Retta turned to Quistis and explained the significance of the ritual, adding specific historical details to the story Argider had told her earlier. "Thousands of years later," she said, looking over the city, "we take light for granted. But there are those among us who are still vulnerable: the children and the elderly, the heartbroken and the infirm. We keep watch for them, too."

She sighed, then perked up. "Well, I'm off to bed, then. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call me. Good night."

Quistis draped the blanket across her legs and looked around. Other balconies had small lanterns swinging from the railings or sitting on tables, giving off their telltale glow. The lights of businesses below had been turned off or dimmed, and the early morning stillness descended around her.

Argider was so quiet that Quistis thought he might have fallen asleep already, but when she glanced at him, she saw him staring at the lantern, the flickering candlelight playing across his features.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he answered. "I just can't believe it's this time of year already. The months flew by."

"I know what you mean. It doesn't seem that long ago that I was well on my way to heatstroke, and now I'm afraid I'll freeze before sunrise." She paused. "I can't remember if I thanked you."

"For what?"

"For helping me out that day. I really was worried that that was it for me. It would be kind of a silly way to go, especially after a life of battles."

"I'm sure you did."

"If anyone had told me where that afternoon would lead, I'd have called them delusional. Just as I would've anyone who said I wouldn't want to leave Esthar."

"You don't have to leave yet."

"I have a little over a month left. And if that month passes as quickly as the last six…" She stared at the flame inside the lantern. "It's strange. Throughout my sabbatical, I've felt as though I was finally building a life for myself, but it's just a cruel illusion. Once my time is up, I have to let it all go and return to Garden. I was never supposed to get this involved with anything. I was supposed to come here, study, do my work, and go back as the same person who left. But I'm not the same person, and I don't want to give up what I've found. I don't want to give up my apartment, my intellectual pursuits, my independence. I don't want to give up you."

Argider laughed quietly. "I can't do anything about that other stuff, but we don't have to give each other up. There might be a significant physical distance between us, but I'm not about to forget you. We can still communicate, maybe arrange to meet every now and then." He shrugged. "But if you want to chuck me aside with all of the other things you've found here–"

"No!" Quistis said, louder than she anticipated. She clapped a hand over her mouth, but when the silence around them seemed otherwise unbroken, she continued with a lowered voice. "I'd never do that! But I can't help wondering how well a relationship can work with so much distance between. I'm worried that you'll get tired of waiting for me, that you'll move on to someone who's actually present."

"I don't want anybody else."

"You say that now, but you can't predict the future."

"No one can. But you can have a little faith, however illogical, that things won't go to hell just because you don't have complete control over their every aspect." He reached over and took her hand. "Have some faith in me. I have faith in you."

Those simple words warmed her, and she gave his hand a squeeze. "All right. It's not something I'm used to doing, but it's worth a try. I'll have faith in you, too."

"Besides," Argider said, "if no one can predict the future, no one can say you won't eventually end up here, anyway."

Quistis nodded. "I like that thought. Let's hold onto that for now."

As Retta had warned, the original candle did not last the night. Hours later, their fingers stiff from the cold, Quistis and Argider worked to replace it, angling the lantern away from the wind, giggling quietly as Quistis twice dropped the new candle while trying to transfer the flame. Finally, she succeeded, and Argider removed the little stub of candle to allow her to put the new one in. When she closed the lantern, he presented her with the old candle, cupping his hand around it to protect it from the wind.

"Make a wish," he said.

"That's for birthday candles," Quistis laughed.

"Well, I don't know when your birthday was, so consider this a belated celebration. Go on, before it goes out."

Quistis leaned forward and blew out the flame. Then, she leaned forward a bit more and kissed him, before flopping back into her chair.

"Wow, thanks," he said.

"A celebratory kiss for a belated celebration."

"I'll bet I know I what you wished for."

"You'd be wrong."

"Oh, really? What did you wish for, then?"

Quistis shivered and rubbed her arms. "Daybreak."

⁂

In this experiment, subjects were asked to indicate which skills they had learned and which they had failed to acquire through the ingestion of a distillate. They were sorted into groups based on the skills they had not acquired via distillate, and were given processed items corresponding to each skill.

In 95% of the cases, ingestion of a processed item resulted in the acquisition of the corresponding skill where the ingestion of a distillate had previously failed. Patterns in the skills the subjects had not acquired through the ingestion of distillates but acquired via processed items indicates the possibility that the organic matter present in processed items may facilitate skill absorption in certain individuals. Furthermore, patterns in the data also suggest that individuals may exhibit an affinity toward particular types of organic material (i.e., mineral, plant-based, animal-derived, etc.) that expedites absorption through processed items while hindering absorption via a distillate.

- Q. Trepe, "A Comparative Study of the Efficacy of Different Methods of Introduction Across a Selection of Blue Magic Skills"

A few days into the new year, Argider strode into the library a half-hour late for his shift, carrying a large envelope and wearing a ridiculous smile.

"I'll probably regret asking," Retta said, "but what in the world are you up to?"

"I've got something for Quistis," he said, handing the envelope to her. "Consider it a little New Year's gift."

From the corner of her eye, Quistis could see Retta leaning across the desk to get a better view of the contents of the envelope. Quistis slowly pulled out a comb-bound document printed on heavy paper. It looked like a report. She read the title, and her name beneath it, and gasped.

"It's an official copy," Argider said. "One of the first printed. We'll be getting one for our collection, but that one's all yours."

Quistis flipped through it, marveling at how professional, how real her own words and figures looked. It was a tangible outcome of her work that no one, not even Garden, could take away from her. "Thank you," she said, her words dissolving into a breathy giggle.

Retta groaned. "May the heavens help me," she said, "I have lived to see the death of romance." She turned toward Argider. "What kind of a gift is that?"

"An extremely thoughtful one," Quistis said. "It is my first publication."

"Courtship among eggheads. I suppose Haren and I were a bit more traditional."

"I assume Haren is a flowers-chocolates-jewelry kind of guy," Argider said.

"Yes, normal gifts."

"Do you remember the first gift he gave you?" Quistis asked.

"Like it was yesterday," Retta said. "It was a leather-bound, embossed, first edition of Schauenfelder's collection of Zebalgan-era myths."

"Yep, that's the most normal gift I can think of," Argider deadpanned.

"One could almost accuse the poor man of having no imagination," Quistis added.

"That's enough," Retta said as they laughed, though she was unable to maintain a severe expression for long. "Don't you two have work to do?"

"I'm almost finished," Quistis said.

"Lucky you," Argider responded. "My work has no end in sight. Speaking of which, I have a conference coming up at the beginning of next week, so—"

"Retta's shift, then dinner afterwards?"

"Exactly!" Breaking his own rule, he kissed her on the cheek before heading back to his desk.

Retta sighed. "I tease, but I'm really happy for the both of you," she said. "So, what are you going to do with that report? Frame it?"

Quistis studied the dimensions of the document. "It might be too thick for that. What I'd really love to do is leave it casually lying on the headmaster's desk for him to find."

"Ooh, that is delightfully wicked!"

"But I'm worried he might throw it out. I think I'll keep it with me, though, as a kind of bargaining chip, to prove that I'm capable of more than what he thinks I am."

Retta nodded, her smile tinged with sadness.  "It's going to be strange not having you around. I'm sad to see you go."

"And I'm very reluctant to leave."

"But you'll keep in touch, right?  I know you'll be coming back to see Argider, but please don't forget about a certain nosy woman he works with."

"How can I? You've helped me so much, and become such a good friend. I promise, when I do visit Argider, I'll meet him here, so that I can visit you, too."

"I notice you didn't dispute 'nosy.'"

Quistis laughed. "No, but I don't really like that term. I think 'inquisitive' suits you better." She slid the report back into the envelope and excused herself to finish the edits on the curriculum.

⁂

On the morning of Argider's conference, Quistis sat at one of the tables at the front of the library, reading a book completely unrelated to her work. She listened to Retta converse quietly with patrons and enter data into her computer, to the soothing sounds of shuffling papers and clicking keys. She heard the doors slide open, heard two people identify themselves, then heard one of them say her name.

She looked up and saw a man and woman, dressed in full Estharian garb, holding up the hems of robes that had not been designed for walking in this part of the city. Retta motioned toward Quistis when they asked for her, concern written on her face. As the visitors approached, Quistis looked at the document the woman carried and recognized her own report.

"Quistis Trepe?" the woman asked. Quistis nodded, and the woman extended her hand. "Good morning. I am Dr. Kitra Mohren, the head of research and development at Odine Laboratories, and this is Dr. Nico Devres, who directs the blue magic branch of the department. If you have the time, we would like to speak with you about your report."

Back to Top

---

Chapter 10

The timing of this visit was not coincidental. The researchers would've known Argider would be at the conference, and they wanted to speak with Quistis without his input or interference. Though she wondered why, Quistis was actually glad they'd done this, appreciative of the opportunity to get to know the laboratory personnel without her prior prejudices and Argider's promise hanging over the interaction.

Dr. Mohren and Dr. Devres sat down across from Quistis, smiling at her, but saying nothing beyond the exchange of pleasantries that accompanied their handshakes. Quistis looked from one researcher to the other, then to the copy of her report.

"So, Ms. Trepe," Dr. Mohren said finally, "you are from Balamb, correct? And you are employed by Balamb Garden as a SeeD?"

"Yes."

"What brought you to Esthar for such an extended period?"

"I am here on sabbatical, to research the history and application of blue magic and to develop a curriculum for an introductory course in the subject for Balamb Garden."

"I see." The smile hadn't left Dr. Mohren's face, but her eyes were serious. "You're saying that you had no intention of pursuing an individual research project like the one detailed in your report?"

"That is correct."

"What inspired this project, then?" Dr. Devres said, adding politely, "If I may ask."

Quistis nodded, grateful to turn her attention to Dr. Devres. The man's features suggested he was well past middle age, and while he was definitely not soft, his manner was considerably warmer than Dr. Mohren's.

"During my research, I discovered that, despite their purity, distillates are not one hundred percent effective in conferring their respective skills on their recipients. However, I was unable to locate a study documenting the comparative efficacy of various methods of introduction across particular skills—"

"Why were you searching for one?"

"To determine whether the organic material ingested through the other methods of introduction had any bearing on the method's effectiveness."

Dr. Devres nodded. "Go on."

"In the absence of such information, I asked Argider if he would be willing to take a processed item for a skill that he had not yet acquired. He agreed." Quistis scanned the researchers' faces for any sign of disapproval. She'd carefully omitted the detail of her own participation in her and Argider's unofficial experiment, for fear that it might cause trouble for him, but she was unsure if she had already said too much. Neither Dr. Mohren nor Dr. Devres reacted, so she continued.

"We worked in the laboratory upstairs, where, prior to taking the processed item, Argider showed me how to operate the battle simulator to gauge the results of the item. The success of his case prompted me to develop my hypothesis, and he suggested I test it through an official experiment."

Dr. Mohren flipped to the back of the report. "I see that you have acknowledged Mr. Cato as providing the space, equipment, and subjects for the experiment," she said. She looked up and studied Quistis carefully. Quistis returned her gaze, sitting very still and fighting the urge to look away. "Is that the full extent to which he helped you?"

No, the timing of the visit hadn't been a coincidence, and now Quistis understood why. She couldn't blame Odine Laboratories for doubting her, a foreigner who swept in and conducted a swift experiment, the results of which undermined years' worth of distillate-specific studies and pro-distillate propaganda. She couldn't blame them, but the insinuation that she hadn't done the work she claimed to have done stung, nonetheless. She took a deep breath to steady her emotions, then smiled politely.

"Yes, it is," she said. "I developed the hypothesis, determined the method by which to test it, processed the skill-bearing items myself, and ran the simulator to test the results. I interpreted the data given me by the simulator and extrapolated the implications of said data. I believe that my hypothesis and my findings run in a similar vein to Fahit's Natural Affinity Hypothesis, the exception being that my study focuses on a mage's compatibility with organic material, rather than any elemental affinity."

Dr. Devres nodded again, but Dr. Mohren seemed unconvinced. "Would you mind walking us through the experiment?" she asked. "In the laboratory, if possible."

"It would be my pleasure." Quistis rose. "Please, follow me."

She led them to the laboratory, where she demonstrated her knowledge of the space and the equipment, elaborated on her hypothesis, and talked them through her method of testing that hypothesis. She even processed another chunk of a barrier and explained how she had acquired sixteen blue magic skills through the raw and processed methods alone. During her demonstration, she noticed that Dr. Mohren became more receptive and Dr. Devres more effusive; the change in the researchers' demeanors bolstered Quistis' confidence, and she soon spoke of her work in a light, efficient tone.

"Thank you very much for the demonstration, Ms. Trepe," said Dr. Mohren, sitting down at the table in the front of the library again. "It is overwhelmingly clear that you know what you are doing."

"Yes," Dr. Devres added, "your knowledge and insight are very impressive. I must apologize for calling your efforts into doubt, but we needed to verify that your report accurately reflects your capabilities." He grinned. "Especially since you seemed to come out of nowhere."

"I understand," Quistis said. "It was a very prudent decision on your part."

"Tell me, Ms. Trepe," Dr. Mohren said, pulling out a small stack of papers from where she'd tucked them inside the report, "what do you plan to do once your sabbatical is over?"

"I'm going to return to Balamb Garden," Quistis answered.

"And what do you do there?"

"I'm an assistant to the administration. Specifically, in regard to student health services. I oversee the inventory of medical supplies and process injury and illness reports. I also work closely with our lead physician to anticipate the items, services, and technology our infirmary might need, and work to secure funding for those purchases. Occasionally, I am dispatched on missions, or sent to negotiate contracts."

"I see. And what of the curriculum you are developing here?"

"I have sent the final portion to the headmaster for his approval. Should he approve it, the curriculum may be introduced as early as the beginning of the next school year."

"Will you be teaching it?"

Quistis shook her head, feeling her anger from several months ago flare up in her chest, recalling how Cid would rather she simplify the course and turn it over to an unknown instructor, who likely wouldn't be a blue mage, than let her teach again. "No, doctor, teaching falls outside of my responsibilities at Balamb Garden. My involvement with the curriculum ends when the headmaster gives final approval on it." She swallowed hard and tried to shove away the memories.

"That strikes me as odd," Dr. Devres said, "considering how familiar you must have become with the material. I assume it will be taught by another blue mage, at least?"

"I'm afraid I can't guarantee that. It will be taught by whomever Garden hires."

Dr. Devres made a discontented sound and frowned. He glanced at Dr. Mohren, then at the stack of papers she held. She gave him a knowing look, then slid the stack across the table to Quistis.

The top page contained a short history of Odine Laboratories, only slightly more elaborate than the one Argider had told her. The company had formed in the wake of Adel's defeat to gather Esthar's top scientists and use their knowledge and talents to build a self-contained, sustainable society. The paper provided a few impressive numbers: how many gallons of purified water were delivered to the city on a daily basis, the total annual weight of food products provided by livestock that had been genetically modified to better withstand the harsh climate, the volume of emissions produced by Esthar's power plants compared to those in other industrialized areas. Quistis moved the page aside, then froze when she saw what was written on the one below it.

Join the Team at the Forefront of Innovation • Help Shape the Future of Esthar

She stared at the researchers seated across from her, whose smiles were now genuine, warm and hopeful. "What is this?" she asked.

"It's exactly what it looks like," Dr. Mohren said. "We would like you to join us. Your report is impressive, not only in its argument and composition, but also in regard to how you made the most of your limited time and resources to achieve solid results. That is evidence of a lot of dedication and hard work, admirable qualities in any O. Labs candidate."

Quistis went through the other papers: the Odine Laboratories' mission statement, a detailed description of the position they were recruiting her for, the benefits afforded that position, and an official application form.

"I appreciate your interest," she said, "but I need to ask, why me? Why would you consider an individual with very little hands-on experience and no formal education in this specific field? Especially when you have plenty of recent university graduates to choose from?"

"Because credentials and experience are relatively easy to obtain, with a little commitment. But your insight, your different approach to the subject matter, sets you apart from the recent graduates, and can help open up new avenues of research, and thus lead to significant breakthroughs."

"And that insight comes from my status as a foreigner. I assume you wish to hire me to keep my research here in Esthar."

Dr. Mohren raised her eyebrows, but Dr. Devres broke into laughter.

"She's a sharp one, eh?" he asked Dr. Mohren, then turned to Quistis. "I can't deny that you've found a grain of truth there, Ms. Trepe, but that's not all there is to the matter. Your 'foreign' approach to the subject is, above all, refreshing. These students, bless their ambitious hearts, are all too often slaves to the textbook. They may have a deep interest in blue magic, but in their desperation to perform well and secure employment upon graduation, most do not question what they've learned. In the best cases, this produces very competent, if predictable, graduates. In the worst cases, it produces an army of simpering sycophants."

"And Dr. Devres should know just how refreshing your experiment was," Dr. Mohren said. "He was an early proponent of distillate use, and worked closely with the method's developer, Dr. Vardan, to expand distillate applicability. Thanks in large part to Dr. Devres, nearly all known blue magic skills have a corresponding distillate."

Quistis felt her face flush. She looked at Dr. Devres, who smiled back at her. "I… I didn't know. I'd read some of your work regarding distillates, but I had no idea how deeply you were involved in their development. I'm sorry."

Dr. Devres laughed again. "Sorry for what? The lifeblood of science is argument and adaptation. You found an insufficiency in my work and strove to explain it and offer solutions. I am actually very grateful. When a development goes unquestioned, it begins to die. Your report has given new life to distillates research and shaken us out of our complacency."

"However," Dr. Mohren chimed in, "you will need to obtain academic credentials eventually. Odine Laboratories cannot retain you if you do not have a degree, or if you are not actively pursuing one." She reached over and selected the sheet marked "Benefits" and laid it on top of the stack for Quistis to read. "Fortunately, we can help with that. Odine Laboratories will pay for your tuition at Esthar University, up to six courses per semester. Many of the courses that deal with theory are available remotely, via their website, and run on expedited schedules of six to eight weeks each. Naturally, laboratory courses run longer and are available only on campus. By following a full course schedule, you should have your degree within about three years."

Quistis looked at the paper and shook her head. "This all sounds very intriguing," she said, "but a little too good to be true. I keep waiting for the catch."

"There is no catch, only that this will require an incredible amount of work and dedication on your part. But judging from what you've done here already, we are confident that you have the skills and work ethic to succeed."

"Perhaps. By the way—and forgive me if this sounds forward—what do you offer in terms of compensation?"

"It's not forward at all. It's a practical question. While we may not be able to offer you what you currently make as a high-ranking SeeD, you will not be wanting for money. Odine Laboratories prides itself on its employee retention, a large part of which is due to our competitive salaries." She turned the paper around and scribbled down a number. "Bi-weekly," she said, turning it back so Quistis could see.

True, the salary Dr. Mohren offered wasn't quite what Quistis earned as a SeeD, but not by much. Quistis had already put away a significant amount in savings, and she was sure that by the time she began to notice the difference, if ever, she would have long acclimated to the Estharian economy.

Acclimated? Quistis frowned. Was she seriously considering this offer? It definitely was tempting, especially in light of her interactions with Cid over the past few months. But despite those interactions, Balamb Garden was the only home she could remember, and she still felt a sense of duty toward it. And because of those interactions, she knew that a decision to leave Garden was irrevocable. What if things didn't work out in Esthar? Where would she go then? Where would she call home?

There were too many factors to consider, too many possible outcomes, for her to make the decision right now. She thanked the doctors and told them as much.

"That's perfectly understandable," Dr. Mohren said. "It was a bit unfair of us to spring this on you so suddenly, but I do hope you will consider our offer." She held out a business card and told Quistis to contact her when she submitted an application, to expedite the normal process.

The researchers thanked Quistis for her time, then rose, shook her hand, and left the library. Quistis accompanied them to the exit, and as the doors closed behind them, she sighed and leaned against the front desk.

"What was that all about?" Retta asked. "It looked like they were putting you through your paces. I admit, I tried to eavesdrop, but I could only catch a few words here and there."

"They were," Quistis answered. "They wanted to verify that the experiment I reported was my own work."

"What in the world for?"

"For this." Quistis dropped the application and information packet onto the desk. "They offered me a position as a researcher with Odine Laboratories."

Retta stared at the papers. "Oh, my goodness," she said. "What did you tell them? Did you accept?"

"Not yet. It was all too much to process at once. I'm going to need to look this over in my own time before I give them an answer."

"Argider will be thrilled to hear this!"

"I'd rather he not know."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, I don't know if I'll accept the offer. But more importantly," Quistis looked through the high windows at the clear winter sky, "I care about him a lot, and while I value his opinion, this is something I need to decide for myself, without anyone's input. I need to know whether I'm ready to take this step."

⁂

Lying usually came easily to Quistis. She wasn't proud of it, but a talent for subterfuge was essential to success as a SeeD. Lying to opponents was effortless, and the occasional white lie to her friends or colleagues was only marginally more difficult.

But lying to Argider, even if only by omission, was nearly impossible.

As a consequence, she was quieter than usual when she met him at the restaurant that evening. He noticed.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked. "You haven't said much, and you've hardly eaten anything."

"I'm fine," she said, "just a little tired."

"Retta's shift's too early for you?"

"I think so." She smiled, grateful for the out. "I've gotten very used to sleeping late. This definitely doesn't bode well for my return to Garden."

"You need to readjust. Maybe we should start meeting for breakfast, instead." Realizing the implications of what he said, he looked up quickly, his eyes wide, the color rising in his cheeks. "At a café or something," he added. "Arriving separately. You know, I wasn't suggesting anything… suggestive."

Quistis laughed. "You're so cute when you get flustered. Don't worry, I understood what you meant." She dropped her gaze to the tablecloth, becoming serious. "But I do feel bad that you felt the need to clarify what you said. I feel bad for making you wait."

"Don't." He reached over and took her hand. She looked up, into his eyes. "That's not why I'm with you. If it happens, wonderful. If not, it's no problem. You offer me so many more reasons to enjoy having you in my life." He smiled tenderly, running his thumb over the backs of her fingers. "I don't want you rushing into anything and then regretting it. When we do reach that point, I want both of us to enjoy it."

"Thank you. Truly, I'm not averse to the idea, but allowing myself to be so vulnerable…"

He leaned across the table and kissed her. It was brief, light, but full of affection. She felt her shoulders relax, and leaned forward as he pulled away, stealing one more moment from his lips.

"Is not impossible," he said, finishing her sentence. "Take your time. I'll be here."

She squeezed his hand, feeling the world shift inside of her. The tiny fluttering things that used to take flight in her chest, that used to blindly, madly beat against her ribs, were no more. Instead, they seemed to have coalesced into something larger, something calmer, but no less powerful. Each beat of its gentle wings filled her heart to near-bursting, until she wanted to cry, until she wanted to pull Argider close and hold him tightly until the strength in her arms gave out.

She loved him. The thought crossed her mind suddenly, unbidden, and she shook it away. It was stupid; what did she know about love?

She cared about Argider. She liked him very much, for his kindness, his intelligence, his lightheartedness, even his awkwardness. She liked the way he saw her, liked the way he made her feel about herself.

But love?

That was asking the universe for too much.

⁂

"I'm looking forward to sitting down to lunch with you again," Xu said. "Or just chatting in the office. Seriously, it's a lot easier to deal with Cid and these boneheaded students when I have someone to complain about them to."

"Well, now I know what my true contribution to Garden's administration is," Quistis deadpanned.

"Oh, don't be like that! Anyway, two more weeks, and everything will be back to normal." Xu peered into her monitor. "You don't look terribly excited."

"Must be a poor connection. I assure you, I'm grinning from ear to ear."

"Very funny. Really, though, how can you not be excited to come home?"

"I'm very happy to see you again. And to see everyone else. And, goodness knows, I could've used some of Dr. Kadowaki's advice over here. But I also enjoyed this taste of independence, of coming and going whenever I pleased, of pursuing knowledge that actually applied to me."

"Is that all you were pursuing?"

Quistis frowned.

"You don't hide things as well as you think you do," Xu continued, "at least, not from me. When it became clear that your giddiness wasn't the result of alcohol or some trendy Estharian drug, that only left one other explanation." She shrugged. "I don't know the guy, so I can't say whether or not you've made an absolute fool of yourself. On the bright side, though, whatever you've been up to over there didn't affect your work performance, so no harm done. Right?"

"Thank you for understanding."

"No problem. Besides, a couple more weeks, and he'll be history." Xu smirked. "Never figured you for a fling."

Fling? Quistis wondered for a moment if that's all she was to Argider. Given the pace at which their relationship was progressing, however, that seemed unlikely. She already worried about maintaining the relationship across the distance between Esthar and Balamb, and Xu planting doubts was not helping.

She decided to ignore her.

"You mentioned when I answered that you had something to tell me," Quistis said. "I assume that's why you called me so early on a Saturday morning."

Xu leaned forward. "Do I ever! It's not official yet, but that's only because of red tape, so it's perfectly okay to tell you. Just promise me you'll act surprised when you hear it from Cid."

"What is it?"

"Cid's decided to give—" Xu scowled and turned around. Through the computer, Quistis could hear a dull thumping sound, followed by faint voices. "Excuse me a minute, Quistis. It seems a couple of idiots are looking to get hurt."

Quistis saw Xu walk away, heard her open the door, then heard Selphie's voice loud and clear.

"Hey, Xu, sorry to wake you, but I need these travel forms signed," Selphie said. "I forgot about 'em yesterday, and me and Rinnie have to be outta here first thing Monday morning!"

Quistis heard Rinoa apologize in the background. Xu grumbled something, and must have been looking over the forms, because Selphie bounded into view, looked at the computer, and waved to Quistis.

"Hi, Quisty!" she said. "What are you doin' up so early?"

"Tilmitt!" Xu shouted. "Get away from my computer!"

"Aww, come on, I was just saying hi to Quistis!"

"It's all right," Quistis shouted, hoping her voice would carry to Xu. Then she turned to Selphie. "It's good to see you. And it's actually not that early over here."

"Oh yeah, time zones. I always forget about those things."

"You're a damn airship pilot," Xu said. "How can you forget about time zones?"

More grumbling. Rinoa walked up to the computer and waved. She explained that the situation in Timber was changing, and she needed to be there to help sort through the developments.

"We drafted our Articles of Secession," she said, "and we sent it with our delegate to the Galbadian Congress. But we never heard anything back, so I ended up going through hundreds of pages of official minutes just to find out that our delegate got cold feet!" She placed her palm to her forehead and shook her head. "Can you believe it? So, Timber's holding a special election to choose a new delegate, and we're going to take the opportunity to revise our Articles of Secession while we're at it."

"Congratulations on your progress," Quistis said. "And good luck for the future. I assume Selphie is going with you. What about Squall?"

"Cid's got him all tied up in paperwork. That's been the story since you left." Rinoa giggled. "He might not show it, but I think he's the most excited out of all of us to see you back here."

Xu reappeared, grabbed a pen, and signed the forms. Then she looked at Quistis. "I'm going to run these up to Cid's office real quick," she said. "Since these two knuckleheads are already here, do you mind talking to them until I get back?"

Quistis smiled. "Not at all."

"Knuckleheads? Bleh!" Selphie stuck out her tongue in the direction Xu had gone. Then, she settled into Xu's chair, leaned forward, and asked the inevitable question. "So, how've you been, Quisty?  And how's my second-favorite Estharian hunk?"

"Second-favorite?"

"I am nothing if not loyal, especially where Sir Laguna is concerned."

Quistis laughed and shook her head, then drew herself up.  "Well, your loyalty won't be tested anymore. Argider's taken."

"What? Really? By who?"

"By whom," Rinoa corrected, looking as if she already understood.

"Okay, okay, by whommm? Seriously, though, that stinks!  Here I was hoping you'd end up together.  You're like the perfect match: two whip-smart pieces of eye candy!"

"I could give you the answer if you'd give me a chance," Quistis said.

"Fine.  Tell me.  Break my heart, Quisty, break my heart for you!"

"It's me."

"What?  Woo-hoo!  Heart unbroken!"

"So," Rinoa said, "when did this happen?"

"About two months ago," Quistis replied.

"Two months? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I was being cautious. I didn't want to take the chance that word might get back to Xu, and possibly Cid. They might've panicked and ordered me back to Balamb."

"That's understandable."

"Nuh-uh," Selphie chimed in, "it means she didn't trust us! C'mon Quisty, how could you not trust me?"

"Your website might have something to do with it," Rinoa said. "You have divulged details about missions before."

"Only accidentally!"

"Maybe I was also being selfish," said Quistis, interrupting her friends' discussion. "I wanted to hold onto this for a while, to enjoy it without worrying about what others might think." It was one of those easily-crafted tiny lies, harmless, and useful for pulling a conversation back from tangential arguments.

It was enough to satisfy Selphie, and the three women continued talking, about their lives and their work and the future, particularly that of Quistis' new relationship. Xu returned just as Selphie was offering, with a mischievous grin, to personally fly Quistis to Esthar for any little rendezvous she might have planned.

"Not on Garden's money, you won't," Xu said. She motioned for Selphie to vacate her chair and handed her a folder. "0600 train to Timber, Monday morning. Don't miss it, because I'm not approving another trip on such short notice."

Selphie and Rinoa waved to Quistis as Xu escorted them out. Xu returned, flopped into her chair with a sigh, and stared at the monitor for a few seconds. "Now," she said, "back to that news I was going to share, before I was interrupted. Quistis, you're getting a promotion!"

Quistis' jaw fell slack. "Come again?"

"Cid's giving you a promotion. I processed the paperwork myself, a few days ago. And get this: it's one of the cushiest jobs here at Garden, administrative assistant to the Registrar."

"A secretary."

"That's an outdated term, Quistis. The point is, you won't need to worry about anything other than helping maintain student records. Of course, you'll retain your SeeD rank—and salary—and you'll have to keep training as part of our front-line defense, but you don't have to go on any more middling little missions. No more listening to the sick students gripe and moan, no more fighting for funds for another case of tongue depressors. And, most importantly, no more flying halfway around the world to sit through boring contract negotiations." Xu beamed. "That must've been one hell of a curriculum you developed. It sure impressed Cid!"

Quistis highly doubted that was the case. If anything, their clashes during her sabbatical should've resulted in a demotion. There must be another reason. No missions, no contract negotiations, a stable post in one of Garden's offices… Quistis realized with a surge of panic that Cid wasn't promoting her for either her work or her behavior, he was placing her in a position where she wouldn't leave Garden again. She gripped the table to steady herself, grateful that Xu couldn't see her white knuckles, and tried to match Xu's smile.

"I'm flattered," she said, unable to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"You should be." Xu studied the monitor, registering that Quistis didn't sound happy. "I know I said to keep this under wraps until Cid officially tells you, but you are allowed to be excited, at least around me."

"I am."

"I'm unconvinced."

"What do you want me to do, dance and shout? I'm just stunned. This was unexpected."

"It's supposed to be. What a 'welcome home,' huh?"

Indeed. "But I never requested a promotion," Quistis said, her shock giving way to irritation. "I would've appreciated Cid discussing this with me first. "

"What would've been the point? You wouldn't have turned it down." Xu frowned. "Would you?"

"Maybe."

"What's wrong with you? Didn't you hear what I said earlier? This job has all the perks you currently receive, and then some, but without any of the bothersome assignments."

"Those 'bothersome assignments' are what I've trained for. I have very little experience in managing records. I feel like I'm being forced to retire."

"That's ridiculous. Don't tell me you actually like sitting through negotiations." Xu narrowed her eyes. "Wait a minute, isn't that how your whole little Esthar adventure started? Is that what this is about?"

"Not exactly."

"What is it about, then?"

Quistis took a deep breath. "It's the finality of it all," she blurted out. "The predictability, every day the same as the one before. No chance of change, no room to grow. It's like being put into a box I'll never break out of."

Xu raised an eyebrow. "Break out? Quistis, it's a job, not a prison sentence."

"With that job, there's very little difference."

"I think I know what your problem is," Xu said, nodding to herself. "You got too involved in this sabbatical. It's hard for you to imagine getting back to your old routine. Tell you what, I'll schedule a few sessions for you in our reintegration program. Usually, it's for SeeDs returning from undercover assignments, but I think it's applicable in your case, too."

"Reintegration? Xu, I don't need—"

"There's no shame in it. Stuff like this happens all the time. Garden is a closed society. We operate by our own rules and standards, and sometimes, when you've spent too much time outside of it, it can be intimidating to come back."

Quistis gritted her teeth, realizing the futility of argument.

Xu was silent for a moment. When she leaned toward her computer, Quistis was startled to see how open her expression was. She looked vulnerable. Quistis had never seen her like that before.

"I don't want you to squander this opportunity," Xu said, "just because you're a little confused right now. Quistis, I care about you. You're my friend, my only true friend. I don't want to lose you. I don't want you to go off on some stupid little mission and never come back." She jabbed a finger toward the camera. "Listen, you and me, we've given Garden everything: we've risked our lives for it, we gave it our childhoods, we gave it our innocence. I think it's time we just sit back and let Garden give to us."

Xu had a point, but Quistis was surprised to hear her make it, since she'd always seemed willing to give Garden her all. Two years older than Quistis, Xu was at Garden by the time Quistis arrived, and she'd already built a reputation as a scrappy cadet with no patience for those who couldn't keep up with her, physically or intellectually. She also did not mask her disdain for the drama that seemed to swirl in the air at Garden, butting into arguments to offer frosty logic, and breaking up fights by threatening both parties.

That was how she and Quistis met. Quistis was trying to break up yet another fight between Seifer and Squall, tugging on Squall's collar to remove him from the tussle while deflecting Seifer's indiscriminate punches. Suddenly, she felt Squall's jacket jerked from her grip, then saw somebody shove Seifer to the ground.

"What is it with you two?" Xu shouted, standing over Seifer with her hands on her hips. She turned to Squall, who was adjusting his jacket, and continued, "You're here to learn and to train, not to try to kill each other. And look what you've done, you've dragged your classmate into your stupid little war! You even hit her, you bastard!" She kicked the sole of Seifer's boot, drawing a high-pitched yelp from him.

"If you two dumbasses can't get your acts together, I'll appeal to Headmaster Cid for your expulsion!" She finished by yanking Seifer to his feet and pushing him away, then walking to Squall and administering a smack to the side of his head. Then she turned to Quistis.

"I don't know why you bother with these clowns," she said.

"I don't like to see them hurt each other," Quistis answered.

"You're too soft. Who cares what they do to each other, as long as you don't get caught in the middle?" Xu grinned and introduced herself. "Stick with me for a while," she said, "and let the idiots sort themselves out."

Quistis smiled at the memory. She was grateful for Xu's friendship, for her support during the most trying segments of SeeD training, for her unabashed joy and congratulations when Quistis became a SeeD. Over the years, Quistis' feelings for Xu had not changed.

But everything else had.

Since being dismissed from her position as an instructor, Quistis' relationship with Garden had deteriorated. Even before her sabbatical, she'd felt her skills were underutilized and her individual achievements—the few that there had been—had gone relatively unrecognized. She remained at Garden out of a sense of duty and indebtedness, and because, until recently, she couldn't even fathom living elsewhere.

Xu's experience at Garden, on the other hand, had been consistently positive. In Quistis' mind—and that of many Garden students—Xu was Balamb Garden, a more constant figure there than even the headmaster. She enjoyed her work, eagerly met the challenges that came with it, and believed wholeheartedly in Garden's mission and its means of sustenance. Her trajectory had been straight and smooth from day one, a steady, if difficult, climb to where she stood now. She found everything she needed in Garden; perhaps that's why she was so perplexed that Quistis couldn't do the same.

Quistis told her as much, and winced at her frustrated grunt.

"That doesn't mean the situation can't change," Xu said. "If you put in the work, I'm sure you can fix what went wrong. Come on, Cid just promoted you!"

"To a position where advancement is nearly impossible."

"Dammit, Quistis, why are you being so difficult?" Quistis watched Xu's features harden before her eyes, until her friend was lost behind the scowl of the Balamb Garden SeeD commander. "Trepe, your return to Garden and your promotion are non-negotiable. They are orders. I'm glad you made the most of your sabbatical. I'm glad you enjoyed your time there, and I'm even glad that you found someone to have fun with. But it was an assignment, and it's over now. It's time to come home. You're not Estharian. You're not a researcher. You're a Rank 30 SeeD from Balamb Garden."

Xu's voice was edged with ice, and her eyes were just as cold. She looked straight into the camera.

"This is where you belong."

⁂

The top-right corner of Dr. Mohren's business card had become dog-eared, and part of a faint brown coffee-cup stain ran across it. Quistis looked at the card, turning it at different angles so the metallic logo caught the light. She flipped it over and saw that Dr. Mohren had written a website address on the back. Quistis turned on her computer and input the address, and an online application for employment at Odine Laboratories opened up.

Her name and basic information—easily gleaned from her Garden profile—already populated the appropriate fields, and a small, checked box near the top flagged the application for urgent review. Quistis stared at the application for a few minutes, then began filling in the missing information, each keystroke a tiny rebellion.

She'd forgotten about the shackles of Garden until recently. But now, she felt them close around her ankles, colder and heavier than ever, and she didn't need to have that dream again to know that there were no longer any chains for her to fight against.

She considered the "Submit" button for a while, idly tracing its bright blue border with the cursor. Clicking that button was taking a step into unknown territory. The uncertainty that lay beyond was frightening, if a bit thrilling. But the certainty that awaited her at Balamb Garden was terrifying.

She clicked.

Thank you for your interest in Odine Laboratories. If your qualifications match our needs, we will contact you soon.

Per Dr. Mohren's instructions, Quistis composed a short note letting her know of the submitted application. Quistis read it over several times, to be certain she'd expressed herself clearly and professionally. Then, another button, another click, and she watched a tiny paper airplane glide across her screen.

Message sent.

Back to Top

---

Chapter 11

Quistis shelved a copy of Lunatic Lineage: Genetic Diversity Among Monsters of the Moon, then descended the stepladder and went back to the cart for another armful of returns. Retta looked at her and sighed.

"You really don't have to do this," she said. "It's your last day here. I thought you'd spend it canoodling with Argider in the back."

"Not at work," Quistis reminded her. "We like to keep our personal relationship independent of our working one, to the extent possible."

"'To the extent possible,' indeed. Don't think I haven't spotted you two sneaking the occasional smooch behind the shelves."

Quistis smiled dreamily. "Guilty as charged."

"Oh, is Argider ever going to miss you! I'm going to miss you, terribly. It's hard to believe your six months are already up." Retta squinted at a call number, then shelved the book in its appropriate spot. "I still remember your first day here. You looked so nervous!"

"I was."

"And look at you now, a curriculum to your name, and a published report, to boot! Dare I say a new job on the horizon, as well?"

"Perhaps."

"You haven't submitted an application?"

Quistis pretended to be very absorbed in locating the proper place for the book she held. "I have, but I haven't heard back yet. It's been almost two weeks."

"Well, those things take time. You said one of the researchers already offered you the position, correct?"

"Yes, but a lot of things could have changed: maybe Odine Laboratories' budget doesn't allow for new hires right now, maybe there was a change in personnel higher up, maybe they found a more suitable candidate."

"Don't think like that. It's probably just tied up in an administrative backlog. I'm sure it won't take much longer."

"I hope you're right."

Retta gathered more books in her arms. "Have you told Argider yet? Or am I still under a gag order?"

Quistis chuckled. "You still are, unfortunately. Do you mind keeping this secret for a little while longer? I'd rather not tell him until everything is certain."

"You can count on me! But now I really hope you hear from them soon."

It was nearly five o'clock when they finished shelving the returns. Argider had already taken up his post at the front desk. He reached out and hooked his arm around Quistis' waist as she passed, pulling her toward him. She ran her fingers through his hair, and they smiled at each other.

"So, how was your day?" he asked her.

"Productive." Behind her, Quistis heard Retta sniff.

"What happened to 'not at work?'" Retta asked.

"Since it's Quistis' last day, I figured we could bend that rule a little," Argider answered, his eyes still on Quistis.

"Oh, dear… I'm not going to have to hang around and play chaperone tonight, am I?"

Argider released Quistis, then sat straight in his chair and folded his hands on the desk. "No, ma'am. I promise, I will be on my best behavior."

"Uh-huh." Retta rummaged through a desk drawer and pulled out a package. "Here," she said, handing it to Quistis.

The package was small and rectangular, wrapped in pale pink paper and tied with a gold ribbon, into which was tucked a sprig of tiny silk flowers. Quistis thanked Retta and turned the package over, trying to discern what it might be based on its size and weight.

"Don't open it yet," Retta added. "I'll get emotional, and then the waterworks will start."

"Trust me, it's not a pretty sight," said Argider.

"You've only seen it once before, when my niece called to say she was getting married."

"That's how I know it's not a pretty sight."

Quistis leaned against the desk and listened to the good-natured banter between Argider and Retta, realizing just how much she would miss it, and miss the generally easy-going atmosphere of the library, as well. The library, and the people she'd met there, had offered her a much richer, more personal glimpse into Estharian culture than she could have imagined. The city center would always be impressive; but it was also sterile, and nearly suffocating in its apparent perfection. The noise and activity of the older areas of the city, their sights and their smells and their non-uniform architecture, made them feel lived in, made them feel real, in a sense that the city center was not. The city center was a dream; these neighborhoods were life.

Quistis didn't catch Argider's final contribution to the discussion of Retta's emotional nature, which earned him a sarcastic laugh from Retta and a flick to the back of his head, before she asked him to move so she could retrieve her belongings.

Retta finished buttoning her coat, then turned and placed her hands on Quistis' shoulders. "You've had quite a journey here," she said. "Thank you for letting me be a part of it. Now, promise me you'll keep in touch. I want to know what other great things you accomplish!" She pulled Quistis into a tight hug.

"I will," Quistis said. "And I promise I'll visit when I come back to Esthar."

"Good. Hopefully, that'll be a lot sooner than you think." Retta winked.

As the doors slid shut behind Retta, Quistis turned toward Argider, who, apparently lost in thought, was repeatedly reorganizing the items on the desk. He started when she rapped on the desk, then grinned and motioned for her to join him.

"You seem nervous," she said.

"What makes you say that?" He reached for the stapler for the third time, and she placed her hand on his.

"This. Let the office supplies rest for a bit."

He laughed softly. "I guess I am a bit fidgety. I was just thinking about tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after that. How strange it will feel without you here. How empty these last few hours of the day will seem without you to talk to."

"On the bright side, you'll get a lot of reading done." She skimmed her fingers across the back of his hand. "Perhaps you'll pick up a few more seductive phrases to try out when I visit."

"After the smashing success of the last one, I'm hesitant to try again."

"A lot of things have changed since then. I may have become a bit more… susceptible to persuasion."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you do have devilish streak, Ms. Trepe."

"You're no angel yourself, Mr. Cato."

"Perhaps not." Argider stared at her intently, and she felt her face grow warm beneath his gaze. "But I can offer you something that's nearly impossible to resist." He leaned close, and Quistis began to close her eyes, preparing for his kiss. But Argider quickly brought an item between them, and Quistis felt her eyes cross trying to bring it into focus.

"Chocolate," he finished.

Quistis huffed and pushed him away gently, laughing and taking the candy from him. "That was wicked," she said.

"Hey, you got chocolate out of it," said Argider, running a hand through his hair and wearing a lopsided smile. "And, considering chocolate is nearly impossible to resist, I think I was being quite honest."

"An honest thief. This is Retta's, right?"

"It is, but she apparently considers tonight a special occasion, and has graciously given permission." He pulled the bag of candy from the bottom drawer and showed Quistis the note attached to it. It was indeed written by Retta, and the stipulation that her permission was granted only for that night was underlined twice. Quistis read the note over and began to laugh, and Argider soon joined her. The mood lightened, and they relaxed into quiet conversation.

They passed the rest of the workday like this, stopping to welcome the few patrons who visited and trying hard to pretend it was just another evening. After closing, Quistis waited as Argider locked the doors, taking in the sights and the smells and the sounds of the neighborhood one last time.

"So," Argider said, sliding the keys into his pocket, "you must be in a hurry to get back to your apartment."

"Not really," she replied.

"I suppose you have a lot of packing and preparation to do."

"No. I'm nearly finished."

"In that case—" he looked at the sky, then gave her a sidelong glance "—it's a lovely night for a stroll, wouldn't you agree?"

"Absolutely!"

They turned away from the lift station and headed deeper into the neighborhood, past small shops selling colorful wares and curiosities, past larger stores selling office supplies or groceries, past offices darkened and closed up for the night. Argider pointed out Mitri's shop, and waved to the proprietor through the window. Mitri, elbow-deep in what appeared to Quistis to be random odds and ends, acknowledged him with a curt nod.

The warm glow of the streetlights made the neighborhood feel friendlier to Quistis than when she first walked through here, and clearly revealed the inconsistencies in the sidewalks. Quistis couldn't resist pointing this out to Argider.

"It was right about here, I think," she said. "I remember seeing that particular building."

"You sure have a good memory of that," he said.

"It was fairly significant event. That was the first time I saw you as… human."

"Human. As opposed to what, a Behemoth?"

"You know what I mean. Normal, accessible. Before that, you seemed like someone set apart. You were so competent, so self-assured. You seemed too good to be true. But then I saw that you can be just as clumsy as anyone else, and that you can get flustered, and that there's a real person beneath that scholarly veneer. A real, wonderful person."

Argider laughed. "I had no idea that's how you saw me. At the same time, I was afraid I wasn't living up to your expectations."

"Expectations? I wouldn't have guessed you cared about that, especially then."

"Oh, I did. Still do. I've never had anyone look to me, specifically, for research guidance. And that you're also an attractive woman only made me even more nervous about screwing up. That competency you speak of, that self-assurance—I have to admit, a good deal of it was bravado."

"It was plenty convincing."

"It's strange how something so silly as a stumble wound up being so significant. Perhaps we should commemorate it."

"Yes, with a bronze plaque: 'Here Argider Cato nearly fell.'"

Argider was quiet for a moment. Then, he stopped walking and said, "There's no 'nearly' about it. I did fall. Hard."

"What do you mean? You didn't—" Quistis turned around to face him.

"I've had something on my mind all day," he said. "I've been trying to decide whether telling you is a good idea, or whether it's unfair to you. If it is unfair, please forgive me, but I don't think I can bear the other choice."

"What is it?"

"It's just… I can't let you leave without telling you that I love you. I love you, Quistis, and I have for quite a while. Since before that little incident in the lab, maybe even around the time of what happened here. I don't know when it happened, I just know that it did, and I know that it's been torture trying to convert all the 'loves' in my mind to 'likes' when I'm talking to you because I don't know if you feel the same way. But I can't do that anymore, and…"

The sound of blood pulsing in Quistis' ears drowned out Argider's voice. Instinctively, she'd taken a step back when he admitted his feelings, ready to defend her already-battered heart. But when she looked at him, at this wonderful, patient man who was currently—and very awkwardly—laying his own heart bare before her, she softened. Her hands trembled and she blinked back tears, trying to ascertain what emotion had spawned them.

Love. The word shone like a beacon in her mind, and so immediately attracted dark thoughts that intended to snuff it out—doubt, unworthiness, fear—thoughts that she forced aside one by one to take hold of the beautiful feeling and surrender it to her heart.

Deep within her, that feeling took root, and the those glorious wings unfurled inside her chest once again, gently and gracefully, beating slow and steady, releasing the tears from her eyes as heralds of joy, the laughter from her throat as its song. She loved him, too. Dark thoughts be damned, she loved him, and nothing was going to take that from her.

Argider was still talking, stumbling over his words, likely wondering whether he'd made a complete fool of himself. Quistis smiled, grabbed hold of the front of his jacket, and pulled him in for a kiss. She felt him flinch in surprise, then recover and wrap his arms around her. She did the same, reveling in the warmth of his body, the pleasure of his kiss, the echoes of his confession of love. When they parted, she looked up at him through dreamy eyes.

"Don't overthink this," she said. "I love you, too." A shiver ran through her body as the words left her mouth, filling her with an exhilarating mixture of happiness, freedom, and desire. They shared one more kiss before continuing on their way, hand in hand.

"Perhaps," Argider mused, the color risen in his face from emotion and exertion, "we should commemorate this event, instead."

⁂

Quistis leaned against her apartment door with a satisfied sigh, having just bid Argider an extended farewell on the other side. When he'd asked, between kisses, if there was any chance he might see her again before she left, she laughed softly and told him he'd have to be up early.

"How early?" he asked.

"Someone from Garden will be here to pick me up around seven-thirty, so sometime before that."

"That's not so early," he said, and resumed saying goodnight. "I'll be here."

When he left, he left slowly, reluctantly, smiling at her and trailing his fingertips against hers until the last possible moment.

Now, Quistis looked around the apartment, at the space and the furnishings that had become so familiar to her, so much her own. The little kitchen table, in particular, looked lonely, cleared as it was of books and papers and battered takeout containers. She'd had breakthroughs and made crucial decisions at that table; so much of who she'd become had been shaped there, that she half-expected to see some trace of that process on her fingertips when she ran them across the table's surface. Instead, she touched nothing but cool steel, and chided herself for being so sentimental over a piece of furniture.

She shook that feeling away and finished packing her belongings and cleaning the apartment. When she was done, she stepped back and counted the boxes stacked by the door. Nine. She'd expanded her life by two boxes during her stay in Esthar. Though those boxes contained mostly books and copies of lab reports, she liked the idea that, while it had taken her eleven years to accumulate seven boxes' worth of personal effects at Balamb Garden, she had amassed nearly a third of that during the past six months here.

As the stillness of the night descended around her, she curled up on the couch with a book. She scanned the lines and turned the pages, but registered very little of what she read, thinking instead about Argider. Thinking about what he'd told her, thinking about the strength in his arms and the fire in his kiss, thinking about how much she'd miss him, and trying to imagine his reaction when she returned to Esthar for good.

But exactly when that would happen was up to Dr. Mohren and Odine Laboratories.

Like Retta said, application processes took time. Quistis understood that, and, though it felt like facing down a multitude of small eternities, she was willing to wait. She just hoped Dr. Mohren was willing to keep her word.

⁂

"Good morning!" Argider grinned at her, a cup of coffee in each hand and a small box tucked under one arm. "I hope I'm not too early."

Quistis stared at him for a few seconds, then glanced at the clock on the wall. Six-thirty. She'd told him to arrive early, but she hadn't specified how early. She had been up for an hour herself, after a fitful night of nonsensical dreams brought on by the anxiety surrounding her return to Garden. She smiled and let him in.

"Not at all," she said, accepting a cup from him. "When did you get up?"

"Five." He shrugged sheepishly. "I didn't intend to get here so quickly, but apparently, not many people are waiting for lifts at this hour." He set down his coffee and opened the box to reveal a half-dozen pastries. "I brought you breakfast."

They spent the next hour sitting on the couch, eating pastries, drinking coffee, and talking quietly. In contrast to the evening before, their physicality was more subdued, but they found more than enough satisfaction in each other's caress, in the heat of whispered declarations, in slow kisses laced with equal parts reverence and desire.

Seven-thirty came and went, and Quistis briefly entertained the ridiculous notion that Garden had neglected to send anyone to collect her. She swirled the last of her coffee in the cup and leaned against Argider, feeling like a lucky thief for every extra minute that ticked by.

Finally, at about a quarter to eight, she heard voices down the hall, one exuberant, one more inclined to grumble.

"728, 729… where's 746? Yo, Squall, are you sure you got the right address?"

Upon hearing Zell's voice, Quistis tensed. Argider noticed, and asked what was wrong.

"I'm a little nervous," she replied. "I mean, this is it, my sabbatical's officially over."

"And that's the only thing that is," Argider said. "You're not losing anything you've gained here by going back. Just think of it as an inconvenient relocation."

"A very inconvenient relocation." A temporary one, too, Quistis hoped. If only she'd already heard back from O. Labs!

She rose at the sound of a knock on the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it, and Zell breezed through, talking quickly.

"Hey, Quistis!" he said. "Selphie was supposed to come, but Rin got called to Timber last-minute, and Selphie went with her, so—oh!" He stopped and did an abrupt about-face, crashing into Squall, who cursed at him before taking a step back himself.

"Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," said Zell, rubbing the back of his head. His ears were bright red.

"Interrupt?" Quistis asked. She looked over her shoulder at Argider, then began to laugh as she realized what Zell must have assumed. "Oh, my goodness, Zell, it's not what you think at all! Now, turn around."

Zell did so, and Squall stood next to him. Quistis introduced both of them to Argider, and held her breath when Argider extended his hand toward Squall. Squall glanced at her, gave a nearly imperceptible smirk, and shook Argider's hand. Quistis exhaled slowly.

"This all you got?" Zell asked, surveying the boxes and lifting three of them.

"Yes. Here, let me help you." Quistis stepped toward him.

"Nah, don't worry about it. Me and Squall will take these down and come back for the rest. We don't mind making two trips, do we, Squall?"

"Speak for yourself," Squall muttered, but hoisted his share of the boxes and started for the door.

"Nice of them to give us a little more time," Argider said when they left.

"Zell moves quickly, so it's not as generous as you think," Quistis said.

"I'll take what I can get."

Zell insisted on carrying the final three boxes down himself, so Quistis and Argider cleared away the remains of their breakfast and followed him out. Quistis took one last look at the apartment, at the kitchen table that now held only a set of keys, then closed the door behind her with a loud click. As Zell finished arranging the boxes in the car, Quistis lingered in the lobby to say goodbye to Argider.

He pulled her close, and told her not to worry. "Nothing's too difficult for the toughest blue mage," he said. "You get back there and show them who you really are! Remember, I'm always here for you. So is Retta. If you need anything, even just to vent a little, give us a call, okay?"

Quistis nodded. "All right. Thank you. Thank you, so much, for these past six months, for everything!"

"Dare I say, for the future?"

"For the future!" She smiled. Through the doors, Zell motioned for her to hurry up. "Well, this is it. I'll call you as soon as I can."

"I'm looking forward to it." One final hug, one last exchange of words of affection, and Quistis walked to the car, ready to face whatever awaited her back in Balamb.

At the airstation, she helped Zell and Squall load the boxes into the airship's cargo hold and avoided Zell's curious glances as best she could. But once she had settled into her seat and the airship lifted off, she was at the mercy of his indirect interrogation.

"That Argider guy seems nice," Zell shouted over the sound of the engines. "And the two of you looked pretty cozy. Sorry again, if I interrupted anything."

"There was nothing going on," Quistis said. "Argider came to the apartment to see me off. He arrived about an hour before the two of you."

"Heh. Sure, whatever you say."

"Believe what you want. I'm telling the truth."

"Zell, leave Quistis alone," Squall said. "What she does in her own time is none of your business."

"Thank you," Quistis said emphatically, but noticed Squall's mouth turn up at one corner.

"Besides," he continued, "getting all the details is Rinoa's job."

Quistis groaned and sat back. Everyone, it seemed, was intent on manufacturing scandal and gossip where none existed. She stared out the window and let her thoughts wander, and remained that way until the coastline of Balamb came into view. Then, she pulled Retta's gift from her bag and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a book bound in dark blue leather. She turned it over to see the title embossed in gold: Blue Magic in Myth and Folklore. Inside, Retta had scribbled a short note:

I remember how captivated you were by this book during the first days of your research, so here's the latest edition. Enjoy!

A while before you joined us, Argider told me about you, and he called you the toughest blue mage he'd ever met. Knowing you now, I don't doubt him for a second! I wish you all the best for your future, wherever it might lead you (hopefully, back here!). Take care, and don't forget to keep in touch!

Love, Retta

Quistis smiled and closed the book, tracing the title with her fingertip. Then, she faced forward and set her jaw, straightening her shoulders and steeling herself as if for battle, as the airship began its descent toward Balamb Garden.

Back to Top

---

Chapter 12

Her dorm room felt so small now. Quistis sat on the bed and looked at the pile of boxes, unsure how she had fit everything in here before. Xu leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and smiled at her.

"It's good to have you back," she said.

"I suppose."

"It's a tough adjustment. Give it a few days, then you'll feel as if you never left. Oh, and I signed you up for the reintegration program. Just five sessions, the first one tomorrow afternoon."

"Xu, I told you that wasn't necessary."

"Everything else about you tells me it is. Come on, cheer up. You're home!" Xu walked to the closet and pulled out a uniform wrapped in clear plastic. "I had your uniforms cleaned so they would be ready when you arrived. Cid would like to see you at your earliest convenience." She laid the uniform on the bed. "Five minutes. I'll wait outside."

Quistis didn't immediately begin changing. Instead, she unzipped her suitcase and retrieved the large envelope that held a copy of her report. She slid the report out and looked at it, focusing on her name on the cover, remembering the feeling of accomplishment she had when she'd first seen it. Whatever Cid might tell her, whatever changes he might make to her routine, whatever future he might envision for her at Balamb Garden—she realized now how little any of that had to do with her, and how much it had to do with Cid's own insecurities, and his struggle to maintain authority over any SeeD who might dare come into their own.

The mundane job, the reintegration program: it was a classic two-pronged approach to breaking someone down to rebuild them to suit Garden's needs. It was something she might have suggested herself, not that long ago, to remedy a rebellious student. And now here she was, on the other end of that process. She couldn't help but be amused that anyone would consider her rebellious; in fact, her designation as such proved that Cid didn't know her at all, and that he didn't care to, either.

As she fastened her jacket, she caught her reflection in the mirror, and was surprised by what she saw there. She no longer saw a failed instructor, or an insecure girl, or even a high-ranking SeeD. Instead, she saw an accomplished researcher, an Odine Laboratories recruit, and a confident woman on the cusp of making her own way.

And, she vowed, that was the only Quistis Trepe Cid would ever see again.

Cid was seated at his desk, flipping through a binder, when Quistis entered his office. He looked up and smiled at her.

"This is excellent work, Quistis," he said, closing the binder and patting the cover. "I look forward to implementing your curriculum at the beginning of the next school year, provided we can find an instructor."

Quistis bit back her protest and thanked him.

"And excellent work should be rewarded," Cid went on. "Therefore, I have decided to promote you, to an administrative assistant to the registrar."

Quistis looked at him impassively and said nothing. Cid laughed nervously and adjusted his glasses.

"It is customary for an employee to express gratitude for a promotion," he said.

"Yes, it is. But it is also customary for an employer to provide more information on the new position, particularly in a case where the employee did not request a promotion," Quistis answered.

Another nervous laugh. "Indeed, it is. Well, there's not much to say about the new position. You will be providing clerical support to the registrar. Maintaining student records, assisting with enrollment and course planning, those sorts of things." He cleared his throat. "Now, this does not excuse you from your duties as a SeeD. You will need to report to training each day before the start of your shift in the office, and you must meet an annual requirement of completed missions."

"Missions?" Quistis brightened slightly. Maybe Xu had misunderstood the terms of the promotion.

"Very few, very far between. I need to justify your salary. Don't worry, they will be short-term missions, all low-risk and high-profile. Event security, dignitary escort, diplomatic visits. You are only required to complete three of these each year to remain a SeeD in good standing."

"Perhaps I shouldn't complain, but with all due respect, sir, those kinds of missions do not justify my salary, nor do they accurately reflect my capabilities as a Rank 30 SeeD. Unless you are planning on adjusting my rank, as well?"

"Gracious, no. Quistis, I thought you understood by now. You, and your comrades from the Ultimecia mission, are… special cases. You are all in high demand, but as the Balamb Garden headmaster, I cannot risk losing any of you in a ridiculous mission for a low-profile client. You are far too valuable to Garden's operation for that."

"To Garden's financial operation, am I correct?"

Cid glared at her. "Yes," he said, through gritted teeth, "you are correct. You and your friends are celebrities, at least as far as SeeDs go. If Garden can secure lucrative contracts without risking your safety, I see no reason not to do so. It's a sound financial strategy, and keeps Garden running smoothly." He shook his head. "But we've digressed from the point at hand. Miss Trepe, you have been promoted to a new position, and starting tomorrow, you are to report to the registrar's office after training. Do you have any questions directly related to your new orders?"

"No, sir."

"And?"

Quistis stared at him for a few seconds, watching his brows come together and his mouth curve into a frown. Then, she nodded curtly and saluted. "Oh. Yes. Thank you, sir, for the promotion."

"Dismissed."

Quistis walked out of his office, her back straight and her steps sure. She nodded to Xu, seated at the desk outside the office, but did not stop to speak with her. Only when she was in the elevator, headed back to her dorm, did she relax, breaking into a wide grin at the memory of Cid's frown and laughing quietly.

⁂

"Booyaka!" Selphie felled a Grat in one hit, then turned to Quistis with a smug grin. "What do you think of that? Totally unjunctioned, too!"

"Impressive." Quistis took down the second Grat and cut several sacs filled with sleep powder from its corpse. "I take it you've been training more than usual."

"Yeah. There's not much else to do around here, unless Rinnie needs to go to Timber or someone else needs to fly somewhere." She shook bits of monster flesh from her weapon. "At least you've got a regular job to go to. Being on standby is sooo boring!"

"My job's not much more exciting. Yesterday, I had the thrilling task of personalizing and sending out enrollment notices for all students with IDs ending in 4." Quistis slipped the sleep powders into a small satchel at her hip. "To make matters worse, I feel so out of place there. The office is already fully staffed, and the other three women are all civilians from Balamb who seem to know each other well."

"Hey, all good friends start out as perfect strangers! I'll bet once you talk to them some more, you'll all end up as buddies."

"They don't seem to trust me. I've heard them wondering out loud why Cid placed me there. One of them even asked me if I was sent to act as Cid's 'eyes.'"

Selphie laughed. "Wow, talk about paranoid! What did you do?"

"I laughed and told her I wasn't. I don't think she appreciated the laugh."

They interrupted their conversation to engage another pair of Grats. After the battle, Selphie shrugged. "Maybe I'm wrong about you all becoming friends. But, hey, you've still got me and Rinnie, and even Xu! And—" she waggled her eyebrows "—your hunky librarian. You are keeping in touch, right?"

Quistis smiled. "Frequently."

In the three weeks since she'd returned to Garden, she'd spoken to Argider almost daily, and to Retta every weekend. This did not sit well with the reintegration specialist, however, who reported to Xu that Quistis' communication habits were hampering her readjustment process. When confronted by both Xu and the specialist, and threatened with further reintegration sessions, Quistis only grinned. Her conversations with Argider and Retta were the antidote to the barrage of Garden propaganda the specialist was heaping on her—asking her repeatedly to recite the SeeD oath of service, quizzing her on random details of the Garden code, reminding her of her position in and contributions to Balamb Garden—and she was not about to give them up. Her refusal was an understated rebellion, but a rebellion nonetheless, a part of her that Garden had no right or power to control.

When Quistis and Selphie reached the Training Center exit, Xu was waiting there, holding a slip of colored paper.

"You have a message," she said, handing the paper to Quistis. "The number came up as Estharian. A Dr. Mohren. She asked you to call her as soon as possible. Is everything all right?"

Quistis looked at the memo and swallowed hard, trying to keep her nerves in check. "Of course," she said.

"You never mentioned seeing a doctor while in Esthar. Were you ill, were you injured? An injury might explain your odd behavior since you returned."

"No, Dr. Mohren isn't a medical doctor. She's a researcher. I spoke with her regarding blue magic research." Nothing Quistis said was a lie, but she still felt anxious even talking about Dr. Mohren, afraid that somehow, Xu would pry the whole truth from her. She thanked Xu and excused herself, but Xu placed a hand on her shoulder before she could leave.

"Then, what explains it?" Xu asked.

"Explains what?"

"The way you've been acting. More often than not, I catch you with your head in the clouds. You don't take the reintegration program seriously, and Cid told me that you were less than gracious about accepting your promotion. That isn't the Quistis I know. Are you sure you didn't sustain an injury in Esthar? Don't act stoic for my sake."

"I'm fine, Xu. You don't have anything to worry about."

"But I do worry. Even ruling out illness or injury, there's still the possibility of recreational substances. The characteristics of addiction—"

"Oh, it's no drug!" Selphie piped up, craning her neck to read the memo in Quistis' hand.

Xu turned to her. "What are you talking about?"

"Quisty might be hooked on something, but it's no drug!"

Xu sighed and looked at Quistis again. "She's talking about him, isn't she?"

Quistis laughed. "I wouldn't call him an addiction," she said. "Maybe Argider is one of the reasons my head's in the clouds sometimes, but there are others. I've been preoccupied with a matter of research that I was unable to complete in Esthar. In fact, Dr. Mohren should be able to give me the missing information regarding that matter. If you'll excuse me, I need to return her call."

Quistis brushed past Xu and walked toward her dorm. The knot in her stomach seemed to grow tighter with each step, unsure as she was about the nature of Dr. Mohren's call. Although she knew it was most likely a call informing her of her application's acceptance, Quistis couldn't discount less favorable outcomes. She sat down on her bed and dialed Dr. Mohren's number, and tried to ignore the heavy, sticky feeling of monster effluvia drying on her clothes and skin.

The call seemed to take an eternity to connect. After the third ring, someone answered.

"Mohren."

"Hello, Dr. Mohren," Quistis said. "This is Quistis Trepe. I received your message, and I am returning your call."

"Ah, Ms. Trepe!" Dr. Mohren's voice brightened. "I'm so glad to hear from you. I do apologize for the delay, but we have finally processed your application." She paused, and Quistis felt her heart skip a beat. "Congratulations! I am pleased to officially offer you a position as a researcher with Odine Laboratories."

"Oh, my goodness," Quistis stammered. "Thank you!" She felt silly; she should have been prepared for this. But sitting in her small room, disheveled from training and reeking of sweat and blood, feeling the furthest thing from a professional researcher, Dr. Mohren's confirmation felt surreal. Flooded with relief, Quistis could not suppress a girlish giggle.

"I take it you accept," Dr. Mohren said.

"Yes, I do. I accept your offer of employment with Odine Laboratories."

"Great! Now, I'm sure you're aware, there is a process we need to follow. First, you will need to complete and sign all the necessary paperwork, after which we will discuss your start date, your relocation to Esthar, and your enrollment at Esthar University. I could send you the paperwork, and we can complete this process remotely, but I would prefer to do it in person, if possible. Are you able to come to Esthar soon? Say, within the week?"

"Sure. Do you have a specific time in mind?"

"Let's see... I have an early-morning slot available on Friday. 0800 hours. Would that work for you?"

Quistis scribbled down the information on a notepad. "Friday... 0800 hours... That's perfect. I will see you then!"

"I'm looking forward to it, and to welcoming you to the O. Labs family!"

Quistis thanked Dr. Mohren again and hung up the phone. Then, dirty clothes and all, she flopped back onto her bed, smiling until her face hurt and mentally drafting the letter of resignation she'd present to Cid.

⁂

Quistis boarded the lift just beyond the shopping mall, smiling politely at her fellow passengers and adjusting the bulk of her messenger bag. She held the bag on her lap, feeling the edges of a folder stuffed to capacity with paperwork, brochures, and information packets through the canvas. There was so much to do, from submitting her resignation letter to Cid, to enrolling in her first courses at Esthar University, to breaking the news to Xu, but all of that would come later. Right now, she had only one objective, a single destination in mind.

Retta looked up from her work at the sound of the automatic doors. As she recognized Quistis, a grin spread across her face.

"Quistis!" she exclaimed. "This is such a nice surprise. How have you been?"

"Very well, thank you," Quistis said. "And yourself?"

"Oh, same as always. Not that I'm complaining." Retta looked at her watch. "I'm very happy you decided to visit, but I'm sure it's not me you came for. Argider will be here in a little while."

"I came to see both of you. A few days ago, I received some exciting news, and I wanted to share it."

"Exciting news? This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain visit that occurred a few weeks ago? A certain application? A certain lab?"

Quistis nodded.

"Oh, my goodness, I am so happy for you!" Retta ran around the desk to give Quistis a hug. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you!"

"Does this mean I'm released from my gag order?"

Quistis laughed. "Not until I tell Argider myself."

Retta feigned disappointment. "But, after that, who's left to tell?"

"I'm sure you'll find somebody."

"You know me too well, already." She glanced at her watch again. "Oh, when will that man get here? Of all the days to run late!"

Argider was not, in fact, running late. A few minutes before eleven, he walked into the library, enthusiastically discussing a new shipment of books with a patron. He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Quistis, his eyes widening, a grin forming on his lips. The patron, aware that he no longer existed in Argider's world, instead waved to Retta before making his way to the shelves.

"Quistis." Argider walked toward her. "It's great to see you! I didn't think Garden would let you get away."

"They didn't," Quistis admitted. "I came here without telling them. I doubt they'll be very pleased with me when I return."

"No kidding." Argider's forehead creased in concern. "Listen, I'm very happy you're here, but if it's at the cost of your job..." He trailed off as Quistis shook her head.

"It's all right," she said. "I won't be working for them much longer, anyway." She pulled the folder from her bag and retrieved her contract with Odine Laboratories. She handed it to Argider and watched as his expression changed from concern to confusion to disbelief.

"Wow," he said, pointing to the contract. "So, you're telling me—"

"A few months ago, while you were attending a conference, two researchers from Odine Laboratories visited me here." Argider leaned forward and began to speak, but she held up her hand and continued. "Dr. Devres and Dr. Mohren. They basically interrogated me on my report, asking me detailed questions, and even asking me to walk them through the experiment. I did so, apparently to their satisfaction, because Dr. Mohren invited me to apply for a position as a researcher with O. Labs. Which I did.

"Dr. Mohren contacted me earlier this week to give me the news. I met with her this morning, and I accepted the offer. I work for O. Labs now. I'm a Level-One Researcher in blue magic research and development."

Argider stared at her for a few seconds, then began to laugh. He looked at the contract again, then back at Quistis. He pulled her close and lifted her off the ground, spinning around once before setting her back down. "That is amazing news! Why didn't you ever tell me they recruited you?"

"I didn't want to say anything until my application was finalized," Quistis said. "Also, after the fuss I made about Odine Laboratories all that time ago, and your promise that you wouldn't make me deal with them directly, I felt a little awkward. But the main reason is that this is a big step, one I needed to take on my own."

"And did you ever! So, when do you start?"

"Next month. Dr. Mohren was gracious enough to allow me time to properly resign from Garden and relocate to Esthar."

Retta leaned forward. "Sorry for butting in," she said, "but will Odine Laboratories be helping with your relocation?"

"No, but they suggested a few properties with whom they have close partnerships." Quistis pulled several brochures from the folder and handed them to Retta.

"I see. Have you decided yet?"

"I haven't had time to look them over."

"Hold off on that for a bit, then. Let me speak to my friend. She should be able to help you find a lovely place within your budget."

"Thank you Retta! I would really appreciate that." Quistis turned back to Argider, who was still staring at her as if she'd just walked out of a dream, and smiled. Retta looked at both of them and sighed.

"Judging from the expression on Argider's face," she said, "I can tell there won't be much work done today. Tell you what, Argider, why don't you and Quistis take a few hours to celebrate? Let the news sink in. I'll cover for you."

Argider stood up straight and tried to adopt a serious demeanor. "I appreciate the thought, Retta, but that isn't necessary. I can work just fine." His gaze drifted back to Quistis and his smile returned. "I am a professional, after all."

"Not today, you aren't. Go on, enjoy yourselves! Just be back before my shift is over, because my offer does not extend to pulling overtime!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

As they exited the library, Argider asked Quistis what she had in mind for celebration. "We have a little more than five hours to ourselves," he said. "What would you like to do first?"

Quistis thought for a moment. "I think… I'd like to pay Wilbur a visit. Can you take me to where he 'works?'"

"Wilbur? You want to visit a cat?"

"Not just any cat. Wilbur was the catalyst for everything that happened, no pun intended. I feel I need to thank him. Without him, I wouldn't have this new job, I wouldn't have taken a sabbatical..." She leaned over and kissed Argider's cheek. "I wouldn't have met you."

"How right you are! In that case, you're not the only one who needs to thank him. I might need to prepare an offering."

"Of what, choice cuts from the butcher?"

"The finest." Argider smiled and cupped Quistis' face in his hands. "You see, it's things like this," he said softly, "unexpected things, beautiful things, things only you would think to do, that make you such a wonderful person. You've got an amazing mind and a heart to match, and I love you for it. I love you for all that you are." He kissed her and she reciprocated enthusiastically, giddy with love and with the freedom of a new beginning.

"I love you, too," she said. She took his hand and they started down the street. "Now, let's go find that cat!"

Back to Top

---

Chapter 13

The silence in Cid's office was broken only by the ticking of the clock on his desk and the skritch of his pen across the paper in front of him. He'd acknowledged Quistis' entrance with a nod, then resumed his work. For what felt like an eternity, Quistis stood at attention, holding a folder containing her resignation letter and waiting to receive her punishment for going AWOL to meet with Dr. Mohren in Esthar.

Finally, Cid laid down his pen, folded his hands, and looked at her. "At ease, Trepe," he said. "I assume you know why I called you here."

"Yes, sir."

"You have committed a very serious offense. Going absent without approved leave, abandoning your post, neglecting your duties… I understand that in peacetime, the significance of these actions is not immediately apparent, but it is vital to the security and continued operation of Garden that our students, employees, and SeeDs do not develop habits that could result in tragedy during conflict."

"Understood, sir."

"The minimum punishment for this infraction is a five-rank demotion and the forfeiture of one month's pay. Since this is your first offense, and your record of conduct with Balamb Garden is otherwise pristine, that is what you will receive. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Dismissed."

"Excuse me, sir," Quistis ventured, removing the letter from the folder. "Before I go, I would like to present you this letter—"

"I have no interest in your excuses, Quistis, no matter how eloquently you may word them."

"This isn't an excuse, sir. This letter serves as notification of my resignation from Balamb Garden, effective in two weeks' time." She approached Cid's desk and slid the letter toward him.

Cid read the letter and frowned, then adjusted his glasses and read it again. Quistis watched his brows draw together and his jaw set, watched his eyes scan the lines—quickly, then very slowly—searching for any flaw, or some sign that this might be an elaborate hoax, a ploy for clemency. Then, finding nothing of the sort, Cid gave a weary sigh and faced Quistis again with an expression that gave no indication of what he might be thinking.

"Let me begin," he said, "by congratulating you on your new job with Odine Laboratories."

"Thank you, sir."

"And I appreciate your providing an official notice of resignation within the appropriate time frame. It's never easy to replace a high-ranking SeeD, especially one with a work history like yours. But we'll manage."

"I'm sure you will, sir."

"With this letter, you are officially terminating your relationship with Balamb Garden. Garden's services and protection will no longer be available to you after your resignation. Should you encounter trouble, or should your new situation not pan out, you cannot appeal to Garden for assistance. Understood?"

"Yes, sir. I understand the risks involved with leaving Garden, and I am willing to take them."

"In that case, I don't think much more needs to be said. You will continue working in your assigned position until the date specified in the letter, and until that date, your punishment will remain in effect. Garden will deduct the equivalent of two weeks' pay from your account to cover the difference. Good luck, Quistis, in your new endeavor." He pushed a button on the intercom on his desk. "Xu, please prepare the exit paperwork for Quistis. Trepe, you are dismissed."

Quistis saluted, then walked out of his office and stood beside Xu's desk. Xu was rummaging through a tall file cabinet, pulling up folders and shaking her head, searching for the appropriate paperwork. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed Quistis.

"So, how did it go in there?" she asked, procuring two forms and sitting down to pull up the rest on her computer.

"About as well as could be expected," Quistis replied.

"I guess Cid can't say anything in the face of a resignation letter. What about your punishment?"

"A five-rank demotion and the forfeiture of one month's pay."

"The minimum."

Quistis shrugged. "Credit for good behavior."

Xu struck a few keys and sent the forms to the printer. "It doesn't bother you at all, does it?"

"No, considering my time here is limited. Should it?"

"I don't know. It would bother me a lot. I worked my ass off to reach and retain Rank 30; seeing Rank 25 printed on my discharge papers would be hard to stomach, especially if it's the result of a stupid decision on my part."

"I'm not pursuing a military career. What bearing does my SeeD rank have on the rest of my life?"

"None, I suppose, other than being a point of pride." Xu collected the forms and stapled them together. "I thought you still had that, at least."

"I do. But it seems our definitions of it vary."

"That seems to be the case for a lot of things these days. It's strange… you were only gone six months, but it's like you came back as an entirely different person. It's like Garden life could never satisfy you anymore."

"You're right, but I felt that way long before I took my sabbatical. I didn't voice my feelings or act on them, simply because I couldn't think of any alternative to being a SeeD." Quistis took the papers from Xu and thumbed through them. "I am grateful to Balamb Garden, for taking me in when no one else wanted me, and for giving me a decent education and a job that has left me financially secure. But even when things were going well here, I couldn't help but feel that I was missing something… a part of myself.

"I enjoy learning new things, a variety of things, and I enjoy asking questions and searching for answers. But, by its nature, Garden's encouragement of such pursuits is limited, and I think I adapted to my environment and limited myself. During my sabbatical, however, I was able to give my curiosity free rein, to ask questions and find answers, to learn more about who I am and how my powers work. That knowledge gave me an anchor, not just among SeeDs or blue mages, but in the wider world. It gave me a sense of where I might belong."

Xu groaned and rubbed her eyes. "Maybe I'm being selfish," she said, "but I just don't know how I feel about this. On one hand, I'm very happy for you, and I admire you. What you're doing takes guts. On the other hand, I can't help feeling… discarded."

"Xu, you know that's not—"

"I know. But knowing doesn't help. We've been friends for years, we've been through so much together, I just kind of figured we'd stay that way. This sounds incredibly stupid, but I feel like I'm losing you to Esthar, to the people you've met there. I feel like I lost a battle that was never there to fight."

For a while, neither of them spoke. Xu's lack of enthusiasm was due to a fear she could barely bring herself to admit, a fear that really hadn't occurred to Quistis. Quistis never imagined that growing close to Argider and Retta would make Xu feel outcompeted; each individual occupied a different space in her heart. Perhaps if Xu could meet them, see why Quistis liked them and how they did not crowd her out of Quistis' affections, she might not feel so bad. Perhaps…

"After my last day of work, I have forty-eight hours to clear out of my dorm room, correct?" Quistis said.

"That's right."

"And during that time, I am still considered a member of Balamb Garden, and entitled to its services."

"Limited services, but yes."

"Does transportation fall under that category?"

"That depends." Xu crossed her arms on the desk and leaned forward. "What are you up to?"

"Would you be interested in helping me move into my apartment in Esthar? Maybe if you saw where I'm going to live, maybe if you met Argider and Retta, you wouldn't feel so threatened."

"So, something like we did before your sabbatical? I assume you'll want the other two ladies to join us, as well."

"More people get the job done more quickly."

"Transportation is definitely a murky issue, but let me work on this request. I may have to fudge a detail or two, but I think I can get Cid's approval." Xu smiled. "Thank you for the invitation, Quistis. It might not change anything, but at least I can give you a proper sendoff. And judging from the previous time, it should be an amusing evening."

"Indeed, considering the company involved."

"Listen, if you breathe so much as a hint of what I'm about to say to Tilmitt or Heartilly—but especially Tilmitt—I will hunt you down and rip your vocal cords out, but I actually enjoyed myself the last time we were all over there." Xu, still smiling, looked back to her computer and waved Quistis away. "Now, get out of here so I can draft this request!"

⁂

The next two weeks passed quickly. Days after presenting her letter of resignation to Cid, Quistis traveled to Esthar to meet with Retta's friend to view available apartments. She decided on one in a quiet neighborhood at the edge of the city center that offered a balance between the vibrancy of the older neighborhoods she had come to love and an easy commute to Odine Laboratories.

The following weekend, she returned to furnish her new apartment. She was incredibly selective, visiting several stores and refusing to purchase anything that she did not love, regardless of necessity. She'd never had the opportunity to furnish her own space, and she was willing to spend the time and money necessary to get it just right. Retta volunteered to accept deliveries on her behalf while she finished up her final week at Balamb Garden, so Quistis left the spare apartment key with her and coordinated deliveries around Retta's work schedule.

She returned to Garden exhausted, but eager to make it through her remaining days there and begin building her life in Esthar. She told this to Argider during a video call a few nights before her final departure from Balamb Garden.

"I can imagine," he said. "I'm pretty eager for you to arrive here, too. You're coming in Saturday, right? Do you know what time yet?"

"At about 1400 hours, give or take a half-hour for loading."

"Do you have a lot of luggage?"

"Ten boxes, one suitcase. And my friends' overnight bags."

"I assume you're hiring two cars, then."

"I plan to. Why is this so important to you?"

Argider smiled. "You wouldn't mind a handsome, totally enamored man offering his service as a driver, would you?"

"Who in the world are you talking about?" Quistis responded, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.

"What about a nerdy librarian who is still totally enamored and ready to help you finish taking a big step in your life?"

"That would be wonderful. Perhaps this man wouldn't mind sticking around for the rest of the day?"

"The lady needn't ask."

"Don't set your expectations too high. My friends will be there, too."

Argider shrugged. "Not a problem. I can behave myself for a day." His smile became mischievous. "Especially knowing there are plenty of days ahead when I won't have to."

Quistis blushed and responded with a suggestive comment of her own. Their conversation far outlasted any pertinent information they had for one another, but left Quistis feeling lighthearted and refreshed, and even more enthusiastic about beginning this new chapter in her life.

When the day of departure came, Zell and Squall joined Xu, Selphie, and Rinoa in helping Quistis load her luggage into the airship. As Selphie began her pre-flight inspection, Quistis placed the final box in the cargo hold and watched Zell secure the hatch.

"Man, I still can't believe it," he said, double-checking the locks. "You're actually leaving Garden. I'll admit, I thought Selphie was joking when she told me, and I even doubted Rinoa. But Xu doesn't mess around, so when she said it was true… heh." He rubbed the back of his head. "I'm gonna miss ya! Who else will be the voice of reason around here?"

"Thank you, Zell. I'm going to miss you, too. But Squall and Xu are still here to keep things running smoothly."

"Yeah, but who'll be the voice of reason with a heart? Neither of those two would get me medicine from Dr. Kadowaki's office at three in the morning after I've eaten too many hot dogs, and without a lecture, even!" He shook her hand. "So, thanks for all you've done. You take care, and tell Argider he'd better treat you good, or he'll have to answer to these fists o' mine!"

Quistis smiled. "I will, and I'll be sure to pass your message along to Argider."

Zell saluted. "Have a safe trip, Quistis. 'Til later!" He noticed Squall approaching and stepped aside before Quistis could return the salute.

Quistis could tell Squall felt awkward. His arms hung at his sides and he kept his eyes down, scanning the ground as if he was searching for something. She noticed Rinoa hovering behind him, clutching the rings on her necklace and biting her lower lip.

"Zell pretty much spoke for all of us," Squall began, "when he said he couldn't believe you're leaving. He's also right to know that neither Xu nor I will pamper him the way you did. He'll just have to learn to deal with solid reason from now on. And permanent T-Board confiscation." He looked over his shoulder at Zell, who winced, then gave a sheepish grin. Standing next to Zell, Rinoa put her hands on her hips and shook her head, then gestured toward Quistis.

"It's going to be strange not having you around," Squall went on. "You've always been one of the few cool-headed, competent people here. Your advice has always been useful. And you're one hell of a card player." He smiled. "Maybe I didn't say this enough, but thank you. I didn't mean to seem ungrateful, I just assumed you knew. But, according to Rinoa, people apparently need to hear things spoken. So, thank you, again, for being a mentor and… and a good friend." He saluted.

Quistis returned the salute. Her relationship with Squall had been confusing, and there had been some painful interactions between them, but also a measure of respect. In the years since they worked together to save the world, they had both matured, and with Rinoa's influence, Squall had become, if not more sensitive, then at least more aware of how his words and actions might affect others. The friendship between him and Quistis became more easygoing, built on practical, straightforward conversations and battle-forged camaraderie.

"You're welcome," she said. "Take care of things here, and take care of Rinoa."

"I will. On both counts, I will." He turned and walked toward the exit, weathering an affectionate ambush from Rinoa as he passed her.

"All right," said Selphie, walking up from the back of the airship and crossing off the last item on her inspection list, "the ship is ready to go! Question is, are you?"

Quistis looked around the hangar, at the SeeD insignia adorning the sides of the airships and the banners that hung from the ceiling, and nodded.

"Absolutely," she said.

⁂

Argider spotted Quistis as she exited the terminal, and waved her over. Quistis led her little group to where he was waiting, noticing along the way that Selphie had grown significantly less animated and strangely quiet.

Argider greeted Quistis with a light kiss. "Welcome back," he said, then dropped something into her palm. "Retta asked me to return this for her. The key to your domain."

"A very tiny domain," Quistis said with a laugh.

"But yours, nonetheless."

"Not technically. According to the lease—" Argider interrupted her with another quick kiss. "All right, it's my domain."

Xu cleared her throat, reminding Quistis that the world around herself and Argider still existed. Quistis glanced over her shoulder at her friends and saw Xu impatiently tapping her foot, arms crossed over her chest, Rinoa grinning impishly, and Selphie gawking at Argider.

"Your loyal subjects?" Argider asked.

"My most trusted advisors and dearest friends," Quistis corrected him. "Allow me to introduce you."

As Quistis did so, Argider grinned and extended his hand, and received three very different responses. Xu gave him a cold smile and a short, firm, handshake; Rinoa was warm and cordial. Selphie, meanwhile, accepted his hand with a husky, awkward laugh, and held onto it a few seconds longer than necessary.

"You'll have to excuse Selphie," Quistis said, recalling Selphie's slack-jawed, starry-eyed reaction to meeting Laguna for the first time. "She's easily awestruck."

"I know the feeling," Argider replied. "I've felt that way for the better part of a year, now." He winked at Quistis, then turned back toward the others.

"All right," he said, "now that introductions are out of the way, let's get Quistis home. Where's the luggage cart?"

"I instructed the terminal crew to take it directly to the pick-up area," Xu said. "We have a hired car waiting there."

"Great! I'll bring the other car around and meet you there."

Quistis watched him walk toward the exit, smiling, but her smile faded when she saw Xu's expression. Xu scowled, forehead creased and one eyebrow raised, in a mixture of perplexity and distaste.

"Really?" she said to Quistis, then pushed past her and started for the exit herself.

Estharian cars were not large. Even with the luggage divided evenly between both vehicles, Quistis watched her friends squabble and negotiate their spaces inside the hired vehicle.

"We still have room in this car," she offered. "Enough for about two boxes, or one person, if anyone would like to join us."

She was met with blank stares.

"Aw, come on, nobody wants to be a third wheel?" Argider asked, accepting a box from Rinoa. "Selphie?"

Selphie giggled awkwardly again, then thrust a box into Quistis' hands and scampered back to the other car.

"Guess not."

When they reached Quistis' apartment building, Argider pulled up to the front entrance, instead of heading into the parking garage. Quistis frowned.

"This isn't a designated parking spot," she said.

"I know," he answered.

"Then why did you stop? I'm sure other cars won't appreciate us blocking traffic while we unload the boxes."

"I know that, too. I'm going to pull into the garage for that. But I thought you'd like to go ahead and do the honors, head up and open your home to the rest of us."

"I can't do that! I have to carry my share."

"You can take your suitcase. And you can help with whatever's left after our first trip."

Quistis narrowed her eyes. "You're up to something."

"Maybe."

"There's something in the apartment, isn't there?"

Argider shrugged.

"Not something that will startle me, I hope?"

"Of course not! It's nothing more than a sentimental trinket. I asked Retta to leave it there when she dropped off the gift she got you."

Quistis raised her eyebrows and glanced toward the building.

"I know that look," Argider went on, grinning. "You're dying to find out what's up there. Go on, then! I'll help the others with the boxes. Besides, I want to see if I can finally get Selphie to actually say something."

"We can't seem to get her to stop," said Quistis, removing her suitcase from the back seat, "so be careful what you wish for."

"Duly noted."

Quistis slid the key into the door of her eighth-floor apartment and chuckled to herself. As calm as she pretended to be, she was eager to see her apartment now that it was furnished. She'd given Retta general instructions regarding the placement of the furniture, but left the details up to her. Quistis stepped through the doorway and flicked on the light.

The apartment looked so inviting, from the couch in the living room to the small metal table in the dining room—as close a model as Quistis could find to the one she'd fallen in love with at her previous apartment. A few prints on the walls gave the apartment some color, and a large wooden bookcase stood against one wall, waiting to be filled.

Upon closer inspection of the bookcase, Quistis noticed several objects on the middle shelf. One was a large woven basket, stuffed full of food and small household items—a pair of potholders, a tiny toolkit—and bearing a card written in Retta's hand. "Welcome home," it read, followed by the signatures of Retta and Haren, and the juvenile scrawls of their two sons. Quistis smiled at the note and investigated the contents of the basket for a while, then turned her attention to the other object on the shelf, a small blue box.

She lifted the lid to find a glass figurine nestled on a bed of cotton. Clear, with swirls of bright orange, the glass had been worked into the shape of a cat. Quistis picked up the tiny likeness of Wilbur, and noticed that it included a portion of Wilbur's blue harness on its back, complete with a slip of paper rolled-up and tucked through the loop. Curious, Quistis removed the paper and unrolled it to find a note in Argider's handwriting:

Retta may have beaten me to it, but I want to welcome you home, myself. I can't tell you enough how happy I am that you're here, and that you've found a job suited to your talents. I love you and I'm so proud of you. What a journey these past months have been, and I'm honored to have taken, and continue to take, it with you.

- Argider

Quistis released the ends of the note, allowing it to curl up again, and pressed the roll to her heart. She looked at the little cat in her other hand, feeling the chill glass begin to warm against her palm. It was a sentimental trinket, as Argider said, but he was wrong when he said it was nothing more. It was so much more—appreciation for the past, hope for the future, a reminder of the serendipitous moment that set her life on a new course she could never have imagined.

She placed the figurine on a shelf and walked to the door when she heard the others approaching. She was relieved to hear Selphie speaking normally again, apparently coaxed into coherence by—from what Quistis could gather—a discussion about food. The small group shuffled inside, set down their boxes and bags, and began looking around.

"Wow, Quisty! This is bigger than your last apartment," Selphie said, running to the balcony. "And the balcony is huge!"

Xu nodded in approval.

Rinoa agreed with Selphie and finished untangling herself from the shoulder straps of the duffel bags she carried. She gravitated toward the bookcase, admiring it. "This is impressive," she said. "How long do you think it'll take to fill?"

"Probably a year or two," Quistis answered, "helped along by the textbooks I'll be purchasing."

"And what are these? Housewarming gifts? How sweet!" Rinoa lifted the glass figurine. "Aw, how cute! A kitty with a backpack."

"That's Wilbur." Quistis explained Wilbur's role, pointing out the harness on his back and Argider's note stuck through the loop.

"Honestly," Xu said, walking over and taking the cat from Rinoa. "Where do you come up with these stories?"

"She didn't come up with it," Argider said. "Wilbur's real. And pretty special to both of us."

"What do you mean?"

"He's the reason Argider and I met, and how I found the library in the first place." Quistis reclaimed the figure and told the story of that day, from spotting Wilbur on the skyway to discovering the blue magic section in the library, sparing no detail about her ordeal in between. She watched Xu's and Rinoa's expressions change, from amusement, to horror, to exasperation and dreamy sentimentality, respectively.

"You're lucky that man saw you outside the library," said Xu, "or your little escapade could have ended very badly."

"Well, I think it's lovely," Rinoa added, "especially because it ended well. Wilbur was like a little agent of fate that day!"

"Quisty, you're neighbor has the coolest-looking cat!" Selphie bounded into the living room from the balcony. "It's fluffy and white with these neat mark—what, what? Did I miss something?"

Rinoa and Xu offered contradictory answers, and Rinoa promised to fill Selphie in while they collected the remaining luggage. When Quistis moved to join them, Rinoa stopped her.

"It's okay," she said, "we can handle the rest. You two stay here. Talk about Wilbur." She winked and ushered a very confused Selphie out the door.

"So, about Wilbur…" Argider ambled to where Quistis stood.

"It's beautiful, and I love it." Quistis replaced the figurine on the shelf, then hugged Argider tightly. "Thank you."

He held her close, running a hand along her back, and sighed into her hair. "Welcome home."

⁂

After spending the afternoon unpacking boxes and settling into the apartment, Quistis and the others joined Retta and Haren for dinner. After a round of her usual teasing, Retta did her best to give each person at the table her attention, and to learn as much about Quistis' friends as she could in the space of a single meal.

Haren, on the other hand, was thrilled to learn that Selphie had piloted the Ragnarok, and promptly monopolized her time with questions about the mechanics and logistics of it all. Selphie, equally thrilled to be the recipient of so much attention, particularly for her aeronautical accomplishments, eagerly answered his every question and expounded on her answers with choice bits of trivia. When Retta mentioned that it was a shame her sons had not been able to meet Selphie, Selphie responded by scrawling her name across a scrap of paper and offering Retta her autograph.

It was a convivial evening, full of laughter and good conversation, and even Xu appeared to warm up to Quistis' Estharian friends after a while. Argider bid them good night after dinner, and the four women headed back to Quistis' apartment. Selphie was the first to retire; apparently exhausted from the excitement of the day, she crawled into her sleeping bag without even changing into her pajamas first, and was asleep within minutes. Rinoa followed soon afterward, leaving Quistis and Xu with a few hours of precious silence.

At a quarter of midnight, Xu sat at the kitchen table, across from Quistis, and stirred the heat out of the coffee in the cup before her.

"I wanted to hate him," she said flatly, suddenly. Quistis looked up.

"I really did," Xu went on. "And he made it very easy to from the start. He's loud, he's annoying, he's incredibly silly. Honestly, if we hadn't verified his credentials, you wouldn't have been able to convince me that this is the same man. The way you spoke of him, I was expecting someone serious and refined." She snorted. "What a surprise."

Quistis said nothing, and dropped her gaze to her own coffee cup.

"But then I saw the way he looks at you. The way he treats you. The way you two speak to each other, and how he brings out a side of you I never even knew you had. I saw how happy he makes you. And that's what's important." Xu's voice hitched strangely in the middle of her last sentence, and she cleared her throat before continuing. "Mind you, I don't think I can ever like him. He's essentially the male version of Heartilly. But, for once, my opinion doesn't matter, and I want you to understand that. Meeting him was the best thing that had happened to you in a long time, and it set into motion a lot of other good things for you. All I wanted to know was that he could take care of my best friend, and, from what I saw today, I think I can trust him to."

Quistis glanced up again, and saw Xu smiling at her, blinking rapidly but unable to hold back a few rogue tears. She took Xu's hand.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for understanding, and for being such a good friend."

Xu laughed and sniffled. "But if he ever does anything to hurt you, you call me right away, and I will be more than happy to fly over here and kick his ass."

"You'd probably have to beat Retta to that."

"I like Retta. I know she'll take care of you."

"And so will Argider. Not that I need to be taken care of in the first place."

Xu cocked an eyebrow.

"But it's nice to know someone will be there in the unlikely event that I do," Quistis acquiesced. "And you can trust Argider to be that person. At the very least, you can trust my judgment."

"After your story about the cat and heat exhaustion, it's easier to just trust Argider himself!"

The two women laughed, and, as the stillness of midnight descended around them, they squeezed each other's hand in a wordless farewell.

⁂

The doors of Odine Laboratories slid open, revealing a long vestibule and, beyond, a pristine lobby. Quistis approached the receptionist at the front desk and introduced herself, presenting the identification badge she'd received during her visit with Dr. Mohren. The receptionist smiled and asked her to take a seat, then called Dr. Devres.

Not long afterward, Dr. Devres stepped out of an elevator and approached Quistis. "Good morning, Ms. Trepe," he said. "How are you today?"

"I'm doing well, doctor. And yourself?"

"Oh, splendid! We have several large projects ongoing in the blue magic department, and that has kept me on my toes. But I also think it keeps me young. My wife asks when I might consider retiring, and I tell her it's the day she might consider waking up next to a pile of dusty old bones!" He laughed heartily. "Well, let's get started, shall we? In an effort to not overwhelm you on your very first day here, I think we'll start with a leisurely tour of the facility, followed by a rundown of the projects we are currently working on. Shall we begin?"

"Yes, sir—er, doctor." Quistis corrected her words, but caught herself halfway through a salute. She winced. "I apologize. It's an old habit."

Dr. Devres smiled. "No worries, I understand. Took me three years to break my training after I left the army. Funny thing is, I was only in it for two!"

As she followed Dr. Devres on the tour, Quistis marveled at the facility, which was modern and immaculate and brightly lit, and encompassed ten very large floors, seven above ground and three below.

"A lot of highly-classified work goes on down there," Dr. Devres explained. "Weapons and defense development, sensitive government contracts, those kinds of things. But the underground levels also serve as a vault, of sorts, for the results of many of our completed projects. We keep a sample of every successful product there, so that in the unlikely event of a catastrophe, our knowledge is not lost. But access to those floors requires a top-level clearance that not even I possess.

"Our blue magic laboratories are located on the fifth floor," he continued, as he and Quistis entered another elevator. "We have ten small labs, for work on small-scale projects and items, three large labs, a testing facility that is similar to the one Mr. Cato uses, and a comprehensive reference library." The elevator announced their arrival on the fifth floor with a ding, and Dr. Devres gestured for Quistis to go ahead. "See for yourself."

Quistis exited the elevator and found herself looking through a set of glass double-doors at a long room filled with tall shelves. The reference library. The hallway branched in front of her, and ran along either side of the library. Dr. Devres turned right, and Quistis followed him, down a hallway flanked on one side by a series of small laboratories. Along the way, Dr. Devres explained the projects the department was working on at the moment and introduced Quistis to her new co-workers as they encountered them.

With each smile, nod, and greeting, however, Quistis felt smaller, and old insecurities returned, gnawing at her confidence. All of the people she met had worked hard to get here. They held degrees from the university, they had spent years in a laboratory setting, most of them had probably aspired to work here all their lives. She imagined at least a few of them must regard her with well-concealed disdain, a novice who swept in on a tide of luck, considered not for her results but for her potential, hired not so much as a researcher, but as a competitive investment in a burgeoning international market.

Her stomach turned, and she felt an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. By the time she and Dr. Devres finished the tour, ending up in front of the elevator once more, her mouth had gone dry, and cold sweat prickled along her spine.

Dr. Devres noticed her discomfort and asked what was the matter.

"This really is an impressive facility," Quistis began, "and the researchers you employ are obviously extremely competent. They must have spent years developing their knowledge and skills, and by comparison, I hardly feel deserving of this position. Truthfully, I feel a bit like a fraud."

"Nonsense." Dr. Devres looked her in the eyes. "You wouldn't be here if either Dr. Mohren or I believed you didn't belong. You have the intelligence and the drive to succeed. You simply need to catch up in the practical aspects of this job, and I believe that hands-on experience is the best teacher. Nobody expects you to know everything, and the researchers working on the project I've assigned you to understand that you might need a little guidance at first. We're confident that you can make the necessary adjustments and learn what you need to." He smiled. "Pretty soon, you'll find your footing and wonder just what you were so worried about. The hard part is getting started; but by committing to this position and making the move out here, you're halfway through that part already. Just relax and take it one day at a time."

"Thank you." Quistis could not shake her anxiety, but Dr. Devres' words carried a finality that suggested he was done discussing the topic.

"You're very welcome." He turned and led her into one of the small laboratories. "Now, to the specifics of your work here. I've assigned you to a project that is dear to me, one I've been preparing for years. It concerns distillates and a new method of delivery of blue magic skills."

"Delivery," Quistis repeated. "Not introduction?"

"Precisely. By experimenting with distillates, we have found that, of the many items and skills that exist in the wild, only a small percentage are absorbable by blue mages. Perhaps your organic affinity hypothesis may be able to expand our range of usable skills, someday, but in the meantime, I'd like you to help us develop another method by which blue mages might supplement their repertoires." He opened a cabinet and pulled out a small box, from which he retrieved something that looked like a bullet, filled with a viscous, colorful liquid. "We have experimented with concentrating a distillate and placing it inside a bullet that, upon impact of a target, simulates a skill used by the creature from which the original skill-bearing item was obtained."

Quistis took the bullet and studied it. "If I may ask, how would the development of this item affect the utility of blue mages? Wouldn't it allow anyone to use blue magic?"

"I'm glad you brought that up. The answer is no. In early trials, we discovered that the concentration of distillate necessary to deliver the skill was so high as to cause adverse affects in users who were not blue mages. Simply handling the items, over a short period of time, caused headaches, nausea, and, in some cases, hallucinations. All subjects fully recovered after ceasing use of the bullets." Dr. Devres reclaimed the bullet and placed it back in the box. "Bad news for them, great news for us. Essentially, these bullets give blue mages more flexibility on the battlefield. Not only will they have more skills at their disposal, but they will also not need to remain in critical status to employ these skills. In that way, we are increasing the utility of the blue mage, and allowing them to participate more fully through the use of their specific talents."

"That's very intriguing. What will be my role in this project?"

"You will spend the first week familiarizing yourself with prior research on this matter and the history of the project's development. Then, you will help facilitate the trials, which entails a variety of duties: you will observe and log results, determine and adjust the volume and concentration of distillate in the test bullets as necessary, and determine which items from various species bear a useable skill." Dr. Devres grinned. "Once you gain some experience with these procedures, you will find that they are not very difficult, and they should be a good introduction to working here at O. Labs. Do you have any other questions, at the moment?"

"No, doctor."

"Then let's get you started! Follow me, and I'll show you where we keep the reports for this project."

⁂

Dr. Devres was right. Quistis soon found her place among the other researchers at Odine Laboratories, who regarded her not with the disdain she had feared, but with genuine curiosity as one of the few employees who'd grown up outside of Esthar. They were patient with her, and she repaid that patience by devoting herself to catching up as quickly as possible. By the end of her second week, she had assisted in several trials of the blue magic bullets, and was learning to identify the results of various concentrations of distillates. Still, she was caught off-guard when Dr. Devres arrived to receive updates on the project, and the researcher with whom Quistis was working stepped aside to let her field the doctor's questions.

"What are the results of the tests of the distillate from the Glacial Eye's spike?" Dr. Devres asked.

"A concentration of fifty to sixty percent of total volume was determined to be the most effective," Quistis answered.

"And how did you come to that conclusion?"

Quistis explained the various concentrations they experimented with, and the results of each. "We discovered that this distillate can confer a single-target offensive skill similar to a mid-level ice spell, but that at concentrations lower than fifty percent, the result is negligible. At concentrations above sixty-five percent, however, the amount of energy generated caused collateral damage to other members of the user's party. To avoid that scenario, we therefore recommend an upper limit of sixty percent of volume."

"Excellent. Thank you for the update. Carry on."

Quistis relaxed and glanced over her shoulder at the other researcher, who smiled and made a gesture of approval.

That evening, Quistis returned to her apartment and found a package waiting for her. The textbooks she had ordered from the university had arrived. She sorted the books by course, and flipped through them, alternating between apprehension and excitement. A new session of expedited courses was starting next week, and she had enrolled in two. The hard work was just beginning for her, but she welcomed the challenge, the opportunity to expand her knowledge and grow into the life that was opening up before her.

She sat back on the couch with a satisfied sigh and looked around her apartment. The figurine of Wilbur now stood at one end of a row of books, Argider's note still tucked through the loop on its back. Quistis loved the freedom of a having a space to call her own, and she was beginning to feel a sense of comfort and warmth there similar to that which she'd felt in Retta's apartment. But she was not ready to call her own apartment home. Not yet.

Home. The word was so small, but so loaded with implications and emotions that both intimidated and delighted her. It was something she'd never dared imagine for herself, and something she was afraid might be a dream. Growing up in Garden, she became used to the ephemerality of places and objects and even people, and she sometimes felt that the life she'd built around her now was an illusion woven of gossamer, and just saying the word she'd longed to understand might break it.

So, for now, she would refrain from calling her space a home. But she knew that one day, the word would slip from her unbidden, unencumbered by the shadows of her past. One day, she would wake and realize that she was whole again, that the direction in which she moved wasn't just away from Garden, but also toward a full and rewarding life. A life worth looking forward to, a life worth sharing with someone else.

One day.

She felt no need to rush, for she finally understood what she had fought for those years ago, what she and her friends had won: time enough to build a bright future, time enough to truly live.

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Epilogue

The early evening sun shone into Quistis' face from between the tall, glass-faced buildings surrounding her. She squinted in its rays and wiped at a drop of sweat sliding down her temple. It had been almost a year since she'd gotten lost while following Wilbur, and Quistis had convinced herself that she'd adapted to the Estharian climate in the meantime. The arrival of summer proved otherwise.

Nevertheless, she did not let the heat wilt her spirits. She smiled at the shopkeepers and other pedestrians she passed on her way to the library, greeting those she recognized by name, stopping to chat with a few of them. She was met by a rush of cool air as she stepped through the second set of library doors, and came upon a lonely front desk with a bell and a sign in Retta's place.

It was time for the library's annual inventory, and for the past two weeks, Retta and Argider had foregone their usual duties to complete the daunting task, working twelve-hour days to ensure the job remained on schedule. Argider was kneeling, squinting at spines along a bottom shelf and reading call numbers to Retta, when Quistis found them. She was about to slink away to let them finish their work, when he glanced over his shoulder and noticed her.

"Hey, Quistis," he said, a broad smile lighting up his face. "How was your day?"

"Eyes on the shelf, mister," said Retta, jabbing her pencil in the air and looking over the inventory list. "I want to get this done today. You can talk to Quistis later." She grinned and turned toward Quistis, but did not raise her eyes from the list. "So, how was your day? Did you make any revolutionary discoveries?"

"Not today, I'm afraid." Quistis laughed. "Maybe next week. I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to interrupt you. I'll head to the front to work on my course assignments until closing."

"Go ahead, and we'll join you in a while. This is the last shelf. Finally!" Retta gave a subdued whoop of celebration.

Quistis sat down at the table closest to the front desk and pulled a textbook from her bag. She was nearly finished reading and taking notes on the assigned chapter when she heard Retta and Argider approaching.

"Thank goodness that's done," Retta said, tossing her clipboard onto the desk. "Is there a specific reason we have to do this every year? Our clientele is so small compared to the central library's, every two years would be fine."

"It's all bureaucratic," Argider replied. "The amount of funding we receive depends on how well we maintain the library, and how often our items circulate, and the government needs records to justify our budget."

"Perhaps you could show them that our collections don't change so drastically from year to year. Put together a presentation detailing our previous inventories."

"This library hasn't existed long enough. I can see it now: they'd tell me there's insufficient data to support such a conclusion, then laugh me out of the room."

"I don't know how you put up with those bureaucrats. I wouldn't last a minute without giving them a piece of my mind."

"And that's why it's my job and not yours." He looked toward Quistis and smiled. "But enough of this talk. I think we're both due for a little break. Would Ms. Trepe mind some company?"

"Not at all." Quistis cleared away her books as Retta and Argider sat down. "Congratulations on finishing the inventory. You both look so relieved."

"I'll bet you are, too," Retta said. "I imagine last weekend was particularly dull, what with Argider leaving here exhausted."

"Actually..." Quistis looked at Argider and trailed off. Then, she put on her best insincere frown and nodded solemnly. "Yes, it was. Very quiet, very boring."

"Uh-huh." Retta laughed. "Don't worry, I won't ask for details. I guess you youngsters bounce back pretty quickly."

"You're far from old, Retta."

"And you're far too kind. I was already in school when Adel took power. People like myself can't exactly call ourselves young." She sighed and glanced at Quistis' textbook. "But that's neither here nor there. I thought I heard you mention coursework earlier, and I see I wasn't mistaken. Another class, even over summer break?"

"Yes. I want to progress toward my degree as quickly as possible. While my coworkers have been nothing but kind to me, I still feel awkward having no academic credentials."

"I thought O. Labs only paid for six courses per semester," Argider said, sliding the book toward himself and flipping through it.

"They do. I paid for this course myself."

"That's dedication."

"That's the path to burnout, if you're not careful," Retta warned. "Take care of yourself."

"We've had that conversation before. Quistis knows what she's doing, even if it seems irresponsible on the surface." He grinned at her. "What was it, again, responsible irresponsibility?"

Quistis chuckled. "Something like that. I can't believe you remembered."

Retta reached over and lifted the cover of the book to read the title. "Blue Mage Genetics. Interesting. So, have you found out what makes you tick?"

"A recessive genotype." Quistis shrugged.

"Kind of a let-down, isn't it?" Argider said.

"Indeed. Blue magic is fairly complex, so I imagined the inner workings of blue mages must be, as well."

Retta raised her finger. "Wait a minute," she said. "You're telling me that the principle by which you two can shoot lasers and spew fire and whatnot is the same principle by which Quistis got her blue eyes?"

"That's about it," Quistis said. "Anyone who possesses this genotype is able to use blue magic, though variations in skill strength can occur with the presence of another allele on the X chromosome."

"In that case, I assume blue mages make up a noticeable percentage of the population."

"Yes, but many are unaware that they are blue mages. Since our skills are triggered by our responses to life-threatening situations, most blue mages will never realize they possess any skills, unless put in that situation or subjected to tests specifically searching for the genotype. This also helps to explain why there are so many active blue mages here in Esthar, compared to other parts of the world. The combination of an isolated society and the conscription of young adults into the military means not only a higher chance of inheritance of the recessive genotype, but also a higher chance of detection."

"Through blood work," Argider added, anticipating Retta's question. "That's how I found out I was a blue mage. The army specifically tests for that. None of my immediate family is one, but my parents are carriers."

Retta turned to Quistis. "What about you?"

Quistis smiled wryly. "I found out the hard way. All SeeDs have a powerful desperation attack that activates when we are in critical status. Garden calls them Limit Breaks, and tests for them by pushing SeeD candidates to their limits. Let me just say that I would have preferred a poke in the arm to what my test entailed." An awkward silence followed, and she rushed to fill it. "It also would've been interesting to find out whether my parents had this skill, latent or not. I don't know anything about them; I don't even know where I come from."

Retta offered words of condolence, but Argider looked thoughtful. "You know," he said at last, "there might be a way to find out, at least a little bit. Are you familiar with the hypothesis of innate skill origins?"

Quistis nodded. "Dr. Devres gave me a brief overview. If I understand it correctly, the researchers working on that project aim to determine the geographical origins of our individual lineages by mapping the occurrences of innate skills."

"That's right."

Retta leaned forward. "I may not have a head for science, but I'm intrigued. What do you consider an innate skill?"

"One that doesn't require an item to learn," Quistis explained. "Mine was Laser Eye. It came in pretty handy during my early training."

"I'm a little envious," Argider said. "That skill's amazing. Mine was boring: White Wind, extensively mapped in the Nortes Mountains. No mystery here." He paused. "The researchers periodically put out requests for new samples. Perhaps you could provide yours. The project will take a lot of time, and a lot of cooperation from other countries, so it will be years before your skill is mapped definitively, but at least it's a step toward finding out."

"True. I'll think about it."

"No pressure. I just wanted you to be aware of the options." He turned toward Retta. "Sorry for boring you, Retta. I'm sure this wasn't your idea of a relaxing break."

"It's fine by me," Retta said. "Anything that doesn't involve standing for hours on end and staring at tiny numbers is a break for me. But I'm afraid it's over now. I have to input the changes into the system and file the final report before closing."

"I can take care of that. Why don't you head home early tonight? I'm sure you've got some last-minute preparations to attend to."

"Oh, do I ever! The problem with leaving the boys with Haren is that he becomes one of them himself. Tasks go undone while the three of them play airship pirates or something."

"Preparations?" Quistis asked.

"It's vacation time for dear old Retta. I take one every year after inventory is completed. Usually, we just head up to the mountains to escape the heat, but this year Haren and I decided to be adventurous and try international travel."

"Where to?"

"We're going to spend a few days in Winhill. I've heard wonderful things about the area. You've been there, correct?"

"Yes, and it is lovely. It's quiet, the flowers are beautiful, and there's plenty of room for your sons to run out their energy. Are you going anywhere else afterward?"

"Yes. Balamb." Quistis' eyes widened and Retta grinned. "Your friends sold me on the idea. Especially the pilot—Selphie, is it?—she was so excited about a Ms. Moogle's cake."

"It's just a cake with fruit and whipped cream."

"Perhaps, but anything that elicits such a reaction is bound to be quite tasty, at the very least. Do you have any recommendations for me? Any tips?"

Quistis mentioned her favorite restaurant and shops, and suggested a day's drive around the island to take in the scenery. She wrote down names and directions and handed them to Retta.

"Thank you very much! It's always nice to get an insider's perspective."

Retta collected her belongings and bid them farewell. Argider returned to the front desk to complete his work, and Quistis remained at the table to do the same. A few patrons wandered in during the last hour, and leisurely browsed the shelves before heading out, empty-handed, to the restaurants and shops nearby.

"It's finally the weekend," Argider said as he locked up the library. "What would you like to do?"

Quistis adjusted the strap of her bag. "Nothing in particular. Besides, I'm sure you would like to get some rest. You've been here since early this morning. Aren't you tired?"

"A little. But I did want to spend some time with you this evening. If you're not too busy or tired, yourself."

"I'm not. In that case, though, we should probably do something relatively quiet and relaxing."

"Like grabbing some takeout and watching a movie?"

"That sounds perfect." She slipped her arm through his, and, bathed in the colorful glow of storefront signs, they walked through the crowd of people beginning their weekend revelry.

⁂

Quistis woke to the rhythm of Argider's breathing, her head resting on his chest.

His decidedly clothed chest.

She blinked and looked around. They were both still in their work clothes, sprawled across the couch in Argider's apartment, while the monitor on the wall across from them had entered its idle animation. She tried to remember which movie they'd begun watching the night before, but to no avail; apparently, their Friday evening had ended far earlier than either of them had hoped.

Argider stirred and groaned. He opened his eyes, and when he saw Quistis, he sat up quickly.

"Oh no, I am so sorry," he said, pressing his hands against his eyes, his voice still thick with sleep. "I guess I was more tired than I thought."

"You and me, both," said Quistis. "You don't have to apologize."

For several minutes, the two of them sat there, swaying and blinking and shaking their heads to clear away the cobwebs of sleep. Finally, Argider pressed a button on the monitor's remote control and squinted at the clock on the screen.

"Four thirty-six," he read. "I haven't been up this early in years." He glanced at Quistis. "I'll bet you're used to it, though."

"Not anymore," she said.

"I guess some old habits actually die pretty easily." He stretched. "Well, since we're up, how about I make us some coffee?"

"That would be great." Quistis rolled the stiffness out of her shoulders and massaged her calves, feeling the effects of having fallen asleep in such an awkward position.

"You know," Argider said, coming back from the kitchen several minutes later, a steaming mug in each hand, "we can still salvage our weekend. Do you have any plans for today?"

"I have a few errands to run, and some light studying, but my evening is free." She frowned at her wrinkled blouse. "Before all that, though, I'll definitely need to go back to my apartment and get changed. I hadn't planned on spending the night. Well, at least not in these clothes," she added mischievously.

Argider snickered. "There's an iron and ironing board in the bedroom closet, left-hand side, if you want to use them," he offered.

"Thank you. But I still have to head back."

"I know that. I just figured you wouldn't want to make the trip in wrinkled clothes. People can be judgmental."

"That's true. You're very thoughtful. Very… gallant."

They shared a smile, then sat in silence for a few moments, sipping their coffee. Quistis studied Argider's profile, his disheveled hair and the stubble coming in across his cheek, and felt a surge of tenderness. She leaned toward him and kissed him quickly below the jaw, giggling when he started from the contact. He turned toward her with a lopsided grin and responded in kind, and so began a sensual game of one-upmanship, scored by gasps, sighs, and quiet laughter. When they finally reached for their cups once more, the coffee had grown cold.

"You don't need hot drinks in the summertime, anyway," Argider said, and downed his remaining coffee in several gulps.

Quistis nodded and swallowed a mouthful of coffee, letting its strong flavor bring her feet back to the ground after that little interlude.

After Argider had cleared away the coffee mugs and Quistis had pressed her clothes, they stayed together a while longer, talking softly, until the sunlight began seeping through the slats in the blinds.

"I wonder if Retta's left Esthar yet," Quistis mused.

"Probably. A flight as long as hers would likely leave quite early. I admire her and Haren for traveling abroad. It's an adventurous concept for us Estharians."

"Have you ever considered it?"

"I have. I just always found some reason not to. Work, cost, indecision."

"Indecision? A take-charge person like yourself?"

"Unbelievable, I know." Argider chuckled. "But think of it this way: you spend your whole life confined to an isolated country without giving much thought to the world outside. Then, one day, that whole world opens up to you. And you realize there's so much you haven't seen or experienced, so many different people and places than the ones you've always known. Where do you start?"

"I guess you just do." Quistis shrugged. "I'll admit, the only reason I've traveled so widely was for my job. Most of the places I visited as a SeeD, I haven't returned to as a civilian. I think I understand where you're coming from. Even though the whole world was open to me, I never felt free to explore it, and now that I am… I think the amount of choices can be overwhelming."

"Hmm." Argider gave her a sidelong glance, one eyebrow raised, a grin tugging at his lips. "You've worked for O. Labs for several months now, right?"

"Yes, four. Why do you ask?"

"So, you're eligible for vacation leave soon, correct?"

"In about two months." She smiled. "A week before my birthday."

"Really? What do you say we celebrate it with a little—"

"Trip of our own? I'd love to. Where shall we go?"

Argider held up his hands and shook his head. "Oh no, this is your field of expertise."

"I'm hardly an expert."

"Compared to me, you are. But, if you need a few ideas to get started, what about Winhill? You told Retta it was a nice place."

"It is, but there's not much to do there." She noticed Argider begin to speak, and pressed a finger to his lips. "Yes, I know we can always find something to do, but I figure if we're going to spend the time and money for this trip, we'd probably like to see more than flower fields and a hotel room."

Argider laughed and kissed her fingertip. "You're right. Where else, then? I assume you're not ready to go back to Balamb."

"Goodness, no! That will take a few years, if ever." Quistis thought for a few moments. "I've always been partial to Dollet. It has beautiful architecture, several museums, and very nice shops and restaurants, including one right on the harbor. The ocean is an attraction in itself, especially at sunset."

"I'll bet. It sounds wonderful. Dollet it is, then."

"I'm looking forward to it." She sighed and stretched. "But I do believe it's time to get back to my apartment. As tempting as it is to laze around all day, I'd like to get something accomplished so I can enjoy this evening."

Argider walked her to the lift station, under the light of a morning sun that was already too warm, coaxing back the sleepiness they thought they'd dispelled with the coffee. He made some mention of her coursework, and she recalled the conversation they'd had the previous day.

"I've been thinking," Quistis said, "about the innate skill origins project. It sounds intriguing, but I'm not sure I'd like to participate. Or perhaps I could give my sample, for the sake of research, but not find out my results."

"That's fine," Argider replied. "It was only a suggestion."

"I understand, but that's not quite it. It's incredibly tempting to fill in the missing pieces of my past, but I'm afraid all that can do is make me resentful of the life I might have had. I have too much to love about my life right now to mar it with useless questions." She stopped at the stairs to the lift platform and looked up at Argider. He tilted his head questioningly, but said nothing.

"My life could have been different," she went on. "Maybe there wouldn't have been so much hardship, so much pain. But where would I be now? No, I think I'll let that mystery rest for the time being. The past I do remember was very difficult, but it's led me to exactly where I want to be." She reached down and grasped his hands. "If I could go back and change my past, knowing where I'd end up, I wouldn't change a thing. I'd go through everything again, a hundred times over, to be here now. To be here, with you."

Argider stared at her, blinking rapidly to clear away tears. Then, he pulled her close and held her tight, laughing into her shoulder, kissing her above the collar of her blouse. He leaned back to look in her eyes. "Suddenly, 'I love you' doesn't seem like enough," he said. "But it's all I've got right now."

"It's more than enough." She kissed him lightly. "Let's enjoy our present, and our future. Someday, we might find out where Laser Eye innate blue mages come from, but that little scrap of information has no bearing on who I am now."

They hugged once more as a lift pulled up to the platform. She boarded it, waved to him as the shield formed, and settled in for the short ride from his neighborhood to hers.

When she reached her apartment, she entered and flung her bag toward the couch. It landed awkwardly against the arm and tumbled to the floor. Grumbling, she bent to retrieve it, and came face-to-face with herself, smiling back from her Odine Laboratories ID badge. Quistis sunk to the floor and studied her badge, this plastic rectangle with her photo, her name, and her title, and felt a strange warmth fill her heart and spread throughout her body.

The person on the badge wasn't just a name, wasn't just a face, wasn't just a million tiny pieces shoved together in the semblance of a person. There was meaning to the name now, a purpose behind the face, a broken past held together by the brilliant present, its cracks and gaps filled with happiness and comfort, smoothed over and polished by the very real promise of a bright and fulfilling future.

She was whole again.

After all the challenges and change, she'd finally become who she was meant to be. She was finally somewhere she belonged. She looked around her apartment, at her little kitchen table, stacked with a computer and some notebooks; at her bookcase that was slowly being filled; at the figurine of Wilbur, glinting in the sunlight; and she felt it, at long last. This wasn't an apartment, it was a home.

Quistis Trepe was home.

~ THE END ~Back to Top