Curious as a Cat - Part One (Ch. 1 - 7) (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

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Part Two (Chapters 8-Epilogue)

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Chapter 1

The Esthar sun beat down on Quistis and reflected off of the tall, glass-faced buildings surrounding her. The skin on her neck and shoulders prickled beneath its rays and she squirmed as a drop of sweat slid down her torso. She was lost. She hadn't worried about finding her way back when she stepped off of the skyways onto the paved streets below, figuring the skyways must run throughout the city. But she'd found out otherwise, and through the architecture looming around her, she could see neither the skyways nor the Presidential Palace.

If only she hadn't left the palace at all! She'd been in Esthar for several days with Squall and Zell, negotiating a handful of lucrative SeeD contracts with Laguna and Kiros; and with Rinoa, who had several appointments with Dr. Odine to keep. Laguna had been gracious enough to put up the entire group in a large apartment in the palace's guest wing. While Quistis had marveled at the apartment's artful combination of comfort and technological innovation, Zell had simply flopped onto the couch in the common area with a big grin and turned on the monitor on the wall across from him.

Negotiations had wrapped up the day before, and Zell flew back to Balamb Garden early in the morning to obtain final approval and the necessary signatures from Xu and Cid. Rinoa had one last round of tests to be done at Odine's laboratory, and Squall accompanied her, leaving Quistis alone with a day free of obligations.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Rinoa offered, pulling an Estharian robe over her shorts and tank top. She'd been advised by Kiros that since Esthar recognized her as a sorceress, travelling to and from Odine's laboratory would best be done incognito. "It's not particularly interesting, but sometimes it's fun to push Odine's buttons a little."

"She almost made him cry yesterday," Squall walked out of his room and stood next to Rinoa, smiling down at her. Quistis pursed her lips and tried not to snicker, not only because he looked ridiculous in traditional Estharian garb, but also because he couldn't hide the pride in his voice when he talked about Rinoa's antics.

"He asked for it! I've told him a hundred times before I wasn't going to stand for that kind of test. He can get as angry as he wants, I'm not giving in." She'd pulled her hair into a ponytail and was trying unsuccessfully to push it completely under the headdress. "Seriously! Are all Estharian women just bald under these things?"

"As tempting as antagonizing Odine sounds, I think I'll leave him to you two," Quistis said and stepped forward to help Rinoa, tucking stray strands of dark hair under the back of the headdress.

"Thanks!" Rinoa grinned. "So, if you're not coming with us, I assume you have other plans for your day off?"

"Not really. I'll probably just stay in and relax, or I might do a little shopping before the afternoon heat sets in."

"Oh, if you end up by the shopping mall, there's a really good sweet shop just a little ways beyond." As Rinoa was jotting down the address for Quistis, Squall opened the front door and waited for Rinoa to walk through. As she became more animated about the sweets, however, he took hold of her elbow and guided her toward the door.

"Just don't get anything chocolate," Rinoa continued on her way out, "'cause the sun'll melt it into a huge mess. All right, all right, I'm coming!"

Quistis chuckled and looked around the now-silent apartment. She sat down and flicked through the available programming on the monitor, but decided on nothing. She fished a book out of her luggage and read a few pages, but found she couldn't concentrate. She hated having nothing essential to do, especially when everyone around her seemed to be a blur of activity. She watched the clock on the monitor count away another minute, then she rose and left the apartment, grabbing her key and the directions to the sweet shop from the table beside the door on her way out.

Quistis mulled over the hastily scribbled arrows and abbreviations, then tucked the directions in her pocket and weaved between the Estharians walking along the skyway. Some turned to look at her, but since Esthar began relaxing its policies on international visitors, many Estharians were getting used to seeing the occasional foreigner in their midst.

As she walked, Quistis wondered how Rinoa had stumbled upon the sweet shop in the first place. Rinoa was always so curious, so eager to learn about her new surroundings, even if she wasn't always welcome in those surroundings. It sometimes made Quistis feel self-conscious. Here she was, twenty-one years old, and she had seen very little of the world that was not related to SeeD missions or official Garden business. She had never been particularly inquisitive — growing up in Garden, she learned early on that it was not her place to ask questions. And now, even if she wanted to change that, she doubted any scrap of curiosity had survived the years of conditioning.

As her spirits began to sink and her shoulders slumped, a flash of orange in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Quistis leaned forward and squinted in the direction she'd seen it move, and after a moment, it appeared again.

It was a cat.

That in itself was unusual. Quistis had never seen a stray cat on the streets of Esthar before, a fact she hadn't considered until this one showed up. She didn't even know whether the Estharians kept cats as pets at all. This particular cat became even more intriguing when she saw what it carried. It wore a bright blue harness, with an extra loop at the top, through which was shoved a rolled-up piece of paper. Quistis had heard of dogs and even some birds that had been used as messengers in the past, but never a cat. She'd figured cats would be too difficult to train for that sort of work.

The cat zig-zagged between the feet of the leisurely Estharians, who didn't spare it a second glance. Quistis tried her best to follow it, bumping into strangers and excusing herself without ever meeting their eyes. When she arrived at the intersection next to the shopping mall and watched the cat head in a different direction, she hesitated for a moment. Shopping for souvenirs and supplies was a perfectly fine, but dreadfully predictable, way to spend her day; even a visit to a candy store hardly rated high on excitement. The cat and its cargo had captured her imagination and she wanted to see, at the very least, what kind of home or business employed a delivery cat. Curiosity she'd thought long extinguished flared to life inside her, and she felt it only appropriate that it had been rekindled by a cat.

She passed the shopping mall and headed down a flight of stairs to a quieter section of the skyway.

She lost track of the cat when it slipped through an alley too narrow and crowded with discarded crates and pallets for Quistis to easily pass through. Emerging from the alley at last, Quistis turned in a full circle, scanning the street for the cat, vaguely noticing that the worn asphalt beneath her feet was much hotter than the surface of the skyways she'd left behind. She walked a few blocks farther, calling softly to the cat and peering into every niche and alley she passed. Finally admitting defeat, she turned and walked back toward the alley she'd come through. Squeezing past a stack of crates and stepping out onto the sidewalk, Quistis realized that that was as much as she remembered of the route she'd taken while following the cat.

She stood in the middle of the empty street and tried to orient herself. At some point, she'd abandoned the skyways for the ground level of Esthar City, where the buildings dwarfed her and obscured any point of reference. The neighborhood around her was definitely not as affluent as those along the skyways, but it didn't appear derelict or hostile. Perhaps she could ask a local for directions. But as she passed the darkened windows of business after business, Quistis realized that she managed to get lost in the city at the worst time of day. Due to the region's climate, many businesses in Esthar chose to close for several hours in the afternoon, during the heat of the day, while residents retired to their homes or to large indoor cafés for lengthy lunches.

She wandered up one street and down the next, fighting a rising wave of panic and growing thirstier by the minute. The heat rippled up from the ground and she squinted into the brightness, searching for street signs, business plaques, unusual storefronts, anything that might seem familiar or give an indication of where she was. Her head ached and her stomach turned, and at one corner, she leaned over a garbage can and retched, producing little more than a light froth. She licked her lips, only for them to feel even drier seconds later. Stumbling along the sidewalk, she slumped against a building and wondered if, after all she'd been through, this is how she'd meet her end.

All because of a stupid cat.

No, all because of her stupid curiosity. Garden had done well to discourage it in their students. She wished she'd never doubted that.

The hiss of automatic doors sliding open startled her, and she turned her head to see an Estharian man leaving a building with his arms full of books. He glanced in her direction and nodded in greeting, but when she didn't respond, he walked over.

"Miss?" he said, waving his hand in front of her face. "Miss, are you all right?"

Quistis shook her head. "Lost," she croaked, her dry throat burning with the effort.

"Oh my, come on." The man took Quistis by the arm and led her back to the building he'd come from. "Let's get you someplace cool and get you some water." They entered one set of doors and walked through a small vestibule to another. When these inner doors slid open, cool air rushed out, sending a violent shiver through Quistis' body. The man led her to a bench and instructed her to sit.

"Argider," he called. "Argider, I need your help."

Quistis barely registered the appearance of another man, noticing only that he was dressed more casually than the other. She heard the two men speak to each other, but couldn't make out what they said. Before long, she was presented with a wet cloth, and a paper cup full of water was pressed to her lips.

"Drink slowly," the second man told her. "Small sips. You don't want to throw it all up again."

Quistis did as she was told, feeling her stomach cramp and turn when the water reached it. She mopped her face and neck with the cloth, her hot skin stinging beneath its chill. Already, though, she could feel her body cooling down, her breath coming a bit easier.

The first man fanned her with a pamphlet, expediting her cooling process, and spoke again. "Do you think I should call a doctor?"

"Hold off on that for a minute. She should be fine once she gets cool and hydrated." He held the cup to Quistis' mouth again. "Once more. Small sips."

Her eyes finally focusing in the dim light of the building, she dared look at the man holding the paper cup. Ill though she was, Quistis' heart leapt at what she saw. He was still a young man, perhaps in his late twenties, with tanned skin and dark eyes and hair. He was quite handsome, though his features were drawn in concern at the moment. Quistis blinked at him and managed a grin. She sipped at the water, and this time, she reached out and took the cup from his hand. He sighed and visibly relaxed.

"You're going to be fine," he said softly. "Ernal here said you told him you were lost," he continued, nodding toward the other man. "Is that so?"

Quistis swallowed, grateful that her throat seemed to be working right again. "Yes," she answered. "I've never been in this neighborhood before."

"That's clear. It looks as though you've hardly been in any Estharian neighborhoods before. You're a foreigner, right?"

"Yes."

"From where? Galbadia? Dollet?"

"Balamb."

The man's eyes widened. "No wonder you're in such rough shape. The Estharian summer must be a total shock compared to Balamb's."

Before the man could ask any more questions, the doors hissed open and a woman walked through, a bag slung across her body and a stack of notebooks in her arms. Argider rose and greeted her. She spoke to him quietly, gesturing toward the back of the building, and he nodded. Excusing himself from Quistis' company, he disappeared deeper into the building with the woman. Ernal, meanwhile, stopped fanning. He handed Quistis the pamphlet so that she might continue to cool herself, then gathered his books in his arms and headed toward the door.

"Argider won't be a minute," he said. "You should rest here until you feel better." He smiled. "Well, I must be on my way. A speedy recovery to you, miss."

Quistis watched him leave, shortly followed by the woman, who now bore two books atop her pile of notebooks. Argider returned and sat down beside Quistis. "Sorry for the interruption. Where were we? You told me you were from Balamb, but I don't believe I've asked your name yet."

"My name is Quistis. Quistis Trepe."

The man repeated her name. "Unusual," he said, "but elegant. I'm Argider Cato." He shook her hand. "Very nice to meet you, Quistis, although I wish the circumstances hadn't been so dire."

"Me too."

"So, tell me, how in the world did you end up here? Foreigners don't usually go past the shopping mall, let alone leave the skyways altogether."

Quistis looked down and felt her face grow warm even under the sunburn. "I was... following someone." Not a complete lie.

"Oh?"

"Well, it wasn't exactly someone, it was something." She stammered a bit before throwing her hands up and blurting out the truth. "I was following a cat!"

Argider's mouth twisted and she could tell he was trying not to laugh.

"I was just planning on going shopping today," Quistis continued, "when I saw this cat running through the crowd. It was wearing a blue harness and looked like it had a note attached to it. I guess I just wanted to see where this messenger cat worked."

"Oh, you must mean Wilbur." Argider broke into a full grin. "He works for an architect a few blocks over. Clients send specifications, and the architect sends back blueprints for their review. It's not the most efficient system, but it is memorable, and business seems good for the architect."

Wilbur? Well, that was one mystery solved. For the other, Quistis studied her surroundings. From where she sat, she could only see a large wooden desk, and rows of bookshelves beyond. It looked like a library, and Argider confirmed it was when she asked.

"The main library at the city center isn't convenient for everyone," he explained. "This branch is also popular with scholars, mainly due to its very specific Special Collections section." He stood up. "Speaking of which, I have some work I need to get back to, unfortunately. But, please, rest here as long as you like, at least until the afternoon heat passes. There's a water dispenser behind the front desk, if you need any more. Just let me know when you're ready to leave and I'll give you directions back to 'civilization'. Can I get you anything else before I head to the back?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Quistis replied, and watched Argider disappear among the bookshelves.

⁂

Through the glass doors, Quistis watched the neighborhood outside the library come to life again. Shops reopened, clerks set signs and displays on the sidewalk, people walked past. Quistis noted with amusement that the Estharians in this neighborhood still wore the traditional robes, but had them hemmed a few inches higher than their skyway-dwelling counterparts, presumably to avoid accumulating dirt from the asphalt and concrete.

No one else came into the library while she sat on the bench near the entrance, and from what she could tell, the only librarian in the building was Argider. When she began to feel rested, she rose from the bench, wincing at the soreness in her legs. With careful steps, she proceeded farther into the library. She passed through the bookshelves, skimming the titles displayed on each, noticing nothing out of the ordinary until she reached the third row. There, the shelf to her right consisted only of books pertaining to monster anatomy; to her left, she encountered tome after tome dedicated to the history and usage of blue magic. She pulled one of the books off the shelf and flipped through it. It was incredibly old, and much of the ink had faded from its pages, but she was surprised to find that it cataloged far more than the sixteen skills she currently knew. She'd always suspected Garden's instruction in blue magic was limited, but she'd never realized to what extent.

Replacing the book, she continued toward the back of the library. Soon, she came to the end of the bookshelves and instead wandered among rows of metal shelves smelling strongly of disinfectant and filled with jars of items suspended in preservation fluid. Upon closer inspection, Quistis realized that each jar contained a part of a monster's body. Were these part of the Special Collections Argider mentioned? And were they connected to the extensive reference materials on blue magic?

Quistis smiled. Of all the places she could've ended up after getting lost, this library was eerily appropriate. Her opinion toward Wilbur became more charitable.

Past the final shelf, Argider sat at a desk, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, alternately frowning at a stack of papers and entering data into the computer in front of him. Quistis rapped lightly on the shelf next to her to announce her presence. He looked up, his frown fading as he recognized her.

"You look like you're feeling better," he remarked.

"Quite. Thank you so much for your help."

"You're welcome. I'm just glad Ernal found you before your condition deteriorated. This heat can be deadly, even to native Estharians."

Quistis made a small sound of agreement, but his words barely registered amid the questions swirling in her mind. She gestured toward the shelf. "Are these the Special Collections you mentioned earlier?"

"Yes. We have a large collection of research material on blue magic, as well as a small laboratory in which we analyze items to see if they teach any new skills. If so, we then experiment to find the best method by which to introduce the skill-bearing item to a blue mage's system." He pointed to a floor-to-ceiling shelf behind him, lined with boxes and canisters, which reminded Quistis of the shelves behind the counter at a pharmacy.

"Method?"

In response, Argider picked up a small bottle on the desk, from which he shook a handful of caplets. The caplets contained a black gel, which sparkled in brilliant shades of purple and blue when it caught the light. The substance looked familiar to Quistis, almost like…

"A black hole," she said.

"A misnomer, considering it hasn't sucked us all in." Argider chuckled. "I'm surprised you recognized it. We managed to break the item down into a substance we could administer to a blue mage, teaching them–"

"Degenerator. One of the most useful skills in a blue mage's repertoire. It's saved my life a few times." Quistis looked Argider in the eyes and smiled as she watched realization dawn on his face.

"Wait a minute. You mean, you're a blue mage?"

Quistis nodded. "I didn't have anything like these pills, though. It would've made learning skills a lot easier."

Argider placed the caplets back in the bottle. "As far as I know, this method of delivery has only been developed here. So, if the items weren't available as distillates, how did you learn the skills?"

"Honestly? With each of the organic items, I just… ate a little bit of it." Quistis bit her lip, both in embarrassment at what she now saw as borderline barbarism and in amusement at Argider's expression.

"Ate it? The Caterchipillar's spider web?"

"Sticky, but flavorless."

"Mystery fluid?"

"Very acidic, but drinkable."

"Malboro tentacles?"

"Slimy and… chewy." Quistis grimaced at the memory, a shiver running up and down her spine. Argider stared at her a moment longer before bursting into laughter.

"That's incredible," he said, once he'd caught his breath. "You, Ms. Trepe, have my utmost respect."

Quistis shrugged. "I did it out of necessity. I often had neither the luxury of time nor the means by which to experiment with methods of absorption."

Argider's grin disappeared, and he crossed his arms on his desk and leaned forward. "What about the non-organic items?" he asked in a low voice, as if coaxing out a confession. "You know, bullets and cannons and the like?"

"Well, the easiest way for me was to file them down a bit, mix the shavings with some water, and drink it. I'm not going to lie, it was very unpleasant, but the skills I learned were valuable."

"Amazing." Argider sat back and ran a hand through his hair. "I've always wondered what systems foreign blue mages used to absorb the items and skills, but I never thought I'd have a chance to ask one. And now, I hear that you don't have a system at all, you just take the item right in. You're pretty tough."

Quistis grinned. She knew she was strong; she just wasn't used to other people recognizing that. "Like I said, I only did what was necessary."

"That makes it no less amazing. By the time I began my training, the government had already approved the usage of distillates in pill form for learning ten basic skills, so I was spared the… unique experiences you described."

"How did you become involved with blue magic research?"

"Curiosity and luck, mostly. I didn't even know I was a blue mage until I joined the army and was tested for the skill. After serving a few years, I decided I wanted to develop my skill further, so I enrolled at the university and studied under Dr. Vardan, the blue magic expert who pioneered the development of skill-bearing distillates. He had an extensive collection of old reference materials on the subject, which were invaluable to my education. As he was preparing to retire, I suggested we make the materials available to the public; he approached the Estharian government with the idea, and they granted him the funds to start this library. Dr. Vardan died a few years ago, and the library passed into the stewardship of the government." He paused and looked at the papers scattered across his desk. "As such," he continued, "my role here has also changed. As the senior librarian and only blue mage on the staff, I am responsible for conducting blue magic research on the government's behalf. It's not a bad job, though, and it allows me to do what I like best."

Quistis considered the documents on his desk and the binders filled to bursting stacked near the computer. "Oh. Is it all right for me to be here?" she asked.

"Of course," Argider replied without hesitation. "As I said, this library exists for the public. All of the information here is declassified."

"Wow." She turned to look back at the bookshelves. "You seem to have a comprehensive collection here. I'd love to look through it myself, but I'm afraid I haven't got the time."

Argider thought for a moment. "Do you visit Esthar often?"

"Only a few times a year. And usually only for several days at a time. Why do you ask?"

"I wouldn't mind loaning you some material. Like any library, we stock multiple copies of many books, and I see no harm in offering an extended loan to a fellow blue mage."

"I really appreciate your offer, but I can't accept it."

"Why not?"

"For one thing, I'm not Estharian. I don't support the operation of this library with my taxes. It wouldn't be fair for me to use it."

"What else?"

"Furthermore, I…" Quistis shifted her weight, trying but failing to come up with another reason to decline Argider's offer.

Argider smiled. "In the years I've worked here, I've had students and soldiers and curious civilians stop by, and maybe a handful of novice blue mages. Never have I met a blue mage so devoted to their skill as to eat a Malboro tentacle. And even after that, you remain interested in learning more about blue magic. I really respect that, and I want to help you." He turned toward his computer and pulled up the library catalog.

"Thank you."

"Besides," he said, glancing sideways at her, "I'm quite sure Balamb Garden will appreciate any knowledge you can take back to them."

Quistis stiffened, fear knotting in her stomach. How did he know she was from Garden? Had she let any sensitive information slip? Should she deny it? How would she?

"Relax," he continued, "your identity is safe with me. Our president seems to have become quite amicable with Balamb Garden since that sorceress incident three years ago, and I can see why. You SeeDs have been well worth your price in the situations we've contracted you for." He typed something into the computer and scrolled through a long list.

"How did you know I was from Balamb Garden?"

"Simple deduction, really. You told me you're from Balamb, and you told me you're a blue mage." He shrugged. "There's only one organization in Balamb that trains and employs blue mages, and that's Garden. I just assumed that since you travel to Esthar several times a year, it must be on SeeD business."

Quistis sighed, mentally flogging herself for sharing any information at all. However, she was intrigued by Argider's ability to draw an accurate conclusion from such small details. He seemed quick-witted, and well-versed in his area of expertise. At the very least, he seemed like someone she could talk to without having to rein in her vocabulary, without having to disguise her passion for subjects others found dull. Perhaps she should accept his offer, and perhaps she should find a way to visit Esthar more often, and for longer periods.

"Perfect," Argider said, and Quistis worried for a moment that he might be able to read her mind as well. "It looks like all of the books I want to lend you are currently available." He rose from his chair and walked toward the bookshelves. "Come on, let's get you started."

He grinned like a schoolboy as he pulled the books from the shelves, and as he handed each of them to her, he excitedly told her what they covered. He seemed genuinely interested in the subject, and genuinely pleased to have someone to share it with. Quistis gradually relaxed, and as the weight in her arms accumulated, she caught some of Argider's excitement. For the first time in years, she felt as if she had a purpose, vague though it was at the moment, outside of her SeeD duties. She had an opportunity to learn, to grow again. Garden had long ago molded her into what they needed her to be, and in recent months she felt her as if life and work had stagnated. This chance discovery, the result of a split-second decision, promised to breathe new life into the embers of her heart.

And she was determined to remain open to that promise.

⁂

The sun had sunk behind the buildings around them, plunging the street into shadow and triggering the sensors on the streetlights. As offices closed, restaurants opened, spilling light onto the sidewalk and filling the air with exotic and appetizing aromas. Several people greeted Argider in passing, some by name, and in this neighborhood, all of them cast curious glances at Quistis. Argider simply replied to those who asked that she was an unlucky tourist that had gotten turned around, and most of them expressed sympathy and wished her a good evening before continuing to their destinations.

Eventually, a staircase came into view, leading to a section of the skyway. "There's a lift station not far from here," Argider said. He handed her a slip of paper. "I've written the directions to and from the library and the city center, so when you come to return the books, you won't have to repeat your ordeal."

Quistis laughed. "I appreciate it. I feel so silly for getting lost. For blindly following a cat and not paying attention to my surroundings. Very un-SeeD-like. My superiors would be furious if they knew."

"Do they have to know?"

"Of course not." She nodded to the books in her arms, which she'd insisted on carrying despite Argider's protests. "Besides, I think it all worked out pretty well for me."

They stopped at the steps to the lift and, unable to shake her hand, Argider bowed slightly toward her. "Well, Quistis, it truly was a pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise."

"I hope to see you when you return the books, but if you have any questions or concerns before then, please, don't hesitate to contact me." He tucked a business card into one of the books. "Now, just take this lift to the Industrial District stop, where you can transfer to another lift headed to the shopping mall. Until next time." He waited until the lift arrived, then waved to her and started walking back.

As the shield materialized around the lift, Quistis craned her neck to catch sight of him walking away, then settled in for the ride.

The lights of the city center seemed too bright to her now, and she squinted into the glare of a shopping mall terminal as she purchased an elixir to treat her sunburn. Around her, people chattered and children shouted, terminals beeped and lifts hummed overhead. She already missed the cool quiet of the library, the smells of wood and old paper and, farther back, metal and disinfectant.  She missed the comfort, the control.

She shifted the books in her arms and pulled out Argider's business card.  She smiled as she recalled his excitement at meeting another blue mage, and his passion for his work.  What must it feel like, to actually enjoy one's work, to feel as if one is doing something worthwhile?  Even if she couldn't know for herself, she could experience it vicariously through Argider.  That, and the possibility to learn more about her innate skill, made her impatient to return to Esthar, though she hadn't yet left.

As she waited for the lift toward the Presidential Palace to arrive, Quistis mulled over possible excuses to visit Esthar more often, and silently rehearsed her request for a period of long-overdue personal leave from Balamb Garden.

Back to Top

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Chapter 2

Quistis stepped through the door into a nearly silent apartment. On the couch, Rinoa was curled up, asleep, her head resting on Squall's chest. Squall had one arm draped around Rinoa, rubbing her shoulder absently while he read a magazine laid open across his lap. The monitor on the wall across from them was muted, the end credits of a movie scrolling across it. On the floor beside the couch, Angelo also snoozed, next to a small pile of empty takeout containers. Squall looked up as Quistis entered, then went back to his article.

"I take it you found something to do after all," he said. It was a general statement, not a rebuke, but perhaps a veiled inquiry. Quistis set the books on the table beside the door as quietly as possible and uncapped the elixir bottle. She took a swig of the medicine and felt her skin cool down considerably; she poured some of the remaining liquid into her palm and smoothed it over her face and arms to eliminate the remaining traces of sunburn.

"I decided to explore the city a bit," she said, hoping to ease into her discovery of the library and, ultimately, her request for time off.

"Good for you." Squall was clearly not in the mood to converse.

Quistis sighed and glanced around the apartment.  "By the way, where's Zell?"

"He said there was a storm off the coast of Balamb that he didn't feel comfortable flying through. He'll be in early tomorrow morning." Squall's gaze snapped down when Rinoa moaned softly. Likely roused by his voice, she stirred and sat up. She blinked a few times, then gave Quistis a sleepy grin.

"Welcome back," she said.

"I'm sorry," said Quistis. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Don't worry, you didn't. Anyway, I didn't want to sleep the whole evening away." Rinoa stretched, then squinted at the monitor. "Wow, it's almost nine already?" As she reached up to rub her eyes, Quistis noticed a lozenge-shaped patch of red welts on the back of her wrist.

"Bangle testing?"

Rinoa looked at the welts as if she'd forgotten they were there, then grimaced. "Yeah. It's not as bad as it looks, though. Once the bangle comes off, most of the pain goes away."

"I'm guessing you didn't make Odine cry today."

"I never got the chance! The nasty jerk distracted me with some paperwork while one of his assistants slapped the bangle on me. It really surprised me, so I screamed." She grinned. "That's when Squall threatened to wring Odine's neck."

Quistis raised her eyebrows and turned an inquisitive gaze onto Squall. He glanced up briefly. "Of course, I didn't do it," he said, then mumbled, "Can't even find his neck with that ridiculous collar he wears."

Quistis laughed and Rinoa nudged Squall with her shoulder before getting up and collecting the food containers. She stepped over a waking Angelo, who yawned and stretched, then trotted after her. Quistis used the momentary levity to broach the topic of her leave. "So, Squall," she said, "since you're so obviously in a charitable mindset, I'd like to talk to you about taking a leave of absence from Garden."

He closed his magazine and turned to face her. "Why are you asking me? You know I don't have final approval over those things."

"Yes, but you are in charge of dispatching SeeDs for missions, and I didn't know whether you had any lined up for me in the near future."

Squall's eyes narrowed. "This is sudden. What happened out there today?"

"Nothing unusual," Quistis lied. "I did, however, stumble upon a facility that specializes in blue magic research, and I thought—"

"What're these?" Rinoa piped up. Quistis winced. She'd forgotten Rinoa's tendency to gravitate toward the printed word. "Blue Magic Theory and Application? History of Blue Mages? A Comprehensive Study of the Efficacy of Skills Items Relative to the Maturity of the Creature from Which They are Sourced? Where did you find these? It's like they were written just for you." She picked up a book and flipped through the pages.

"At a library," Quistis answered, then turned back to Squall. "The facility I mentioned is a library with a collection that specializes in materials related to blue magic. I spoke to one of the librarians today and he offered me an extended loan on the items Rinoa is looking at."

"Go on."

"He said I could return the books at my convenience, and he would loan me more. However, the collection is so vast, and I visit Esthar so infrequently these days, I feel that I may benefit more by taking time away from Garden to devote myself completely to the study of my skill. According to what I've seen in those books, what Garden has taught me barely scratches the surface."

Squall considered this. "That sounds promising," he said at last, "but you're sure this library is legitimate? Who is the librarian you spoke to?"

"Argider Cato." Rinoa read his name from the business card she found tucked inside one of the books. She looked at Quistis. "Right?"

Quistis nodded. "He's a librarian and a blue mage. The library is operated by the Estharian government, and he not only manages the collection, but conducts research for them as well."

"Really? I wonder if Laguna might know him."

"I highly doubt Laguna knows anyone like that," Squall said dryly. He walked over to Rinoa and took the card from her hand, turning it over as if that would yield more clues.

"You're right. But what about Kiros? He might know something, or at least someone we can ask to verify Argider's identity."

"That's a great idea," Quistis said, reclaiming ownership of the business card. "I'll talk to him tomorrow, when we deliver the contracts."

"In the meantime," Rinoa said, heading toward the computer, "let's see what we can find out about this Mr. Cato."

"That's not necessary. I'm sure Kiros will—"

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun! You can take what you find out here and check it with Kiros, too." She typed Argider's name into the search field and clicked on the first result, a page run by the Estharian government that featured a short biography and photograph of Argider. "Ooh!" she squealed.

"What is it?" Squall asked.

"Wow, he has got some amazing… credentials."

"Like what?" Squall moved toward her and Rinoa furiously scrolled down the page, looking for the actual credentials and finding them just in time.

"It says here he was a level three blue mage with the Esthar Army before obtaining an advanced degree in the field from Esthar University. He studied under the foremost blue magic scholar and is considered an authority on the subject."

"Impressive. He seems legitimate. Still, it would be best to check with someone who's worked with him directly." Squall took the mouse away from Rinoa and began scrolling upward. "What was his name, again?"

"Argider Ca—" Quistis tried to answer quickly, but Squall had already reached the top of the page. When he saw the picture, his eyes widened, and he grinned over his shoulder at Quistis.

"I'm sure the history and application of blue magic skills is very interesting, indeed," he said.

Quistis felt herself blush. It was true that Argider was very attractive, but she knew in her heart that that was not her primary motivation for wanting to study in his company. A secondary one, perhaps—a far, far distant secondary one—but the realization that even someone as usually dense as Squall could see through to this motivation mortified her.

Squall chuckled as Rinoa wrested control of the mouse from him and scrolled down from Argider's picture, only to peek at it again when Squall turned to face Quistis directly. "In all seriousness," he said, "this would be a good opportunity to learn more about your skill, for yourself and for Garden. I see no problem with using an extended leave for such a purpose. Let's just make sure we can verify this man's—Cato's—credentials first. Then I'll be able to vouch for the practicality of your leave request, if Xu or Cid asks."

Quistis nodded and thanked him, but noticed that he still wore the shadow of a smirk as he walked away.

⁂

"Ah, yes, Mr. Cato." Kiros nodded approvingly when Quistis asked if he knew Argider. "I'm surprised you two hadn't met yet."

"Our paths crossed only by accident," Quistis replied. She told Kiros of the events of the previous day, omitting the more embarrassing details. "I am considering taking a period of leave from Balamb Garden to immerse myself in the materials the library offers. However, I wanted to verify Argider's credentials, simply to ensure I'm not wasting my time taking recommendations from someone untrustworthy."

"A prudent decision. But you don't have to worry. I can personally assure you that not only is Argider trustworthy, but very well-informed, as well. I met him when he was a soldier, and over the years, he has become a regular at many government conferences."

Quistis grinned, relieved. "That's very good to hear. Thank you, Kiros."

"You're quite welcome. However, may I ask you a question? How long is the standard leave of absence from Balamb Garden?"

"The standard is two weeks. With my seniority, I may be able to request three."

"Will that be enough time?"

Quistis shrugged. "It will have to be."

"Have you considered requesting a sabbatical instead?"

"I don't think I could make a proper argument for one. Mine is a relatively selfish pursuit."

Kiros leaned back in his desk chair and crossed his arms. He was quiet for several moments, thinking. "It doesn't have to be. I've heard that you were once an instructor at Balamb Garden, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"So, you are familiar with the development of curricula?"

"Passably."

"What if you used what you learn here to create a plan of instruction for blue mages at Balamb Garden? Perhaps for a relatively simple but enriched introductory course. That way, Garden gets something out of the deal, while you are free to research to your heart's content."

Quistis stared at Kiros, and he smiled at her in return. His proposal was the kind of perfectly diplomatic but practical solution she hadn't dared consider. After the way her brief career as an educator had ended, she doubted Garden would take another chance on her. She looked at the floor and said as much to Kiros.

"Maybe not," he said, "but isn't it worth a try? Perhaps it will be your chance at redemption. Goodness knows, you've waited long enough."

Waited. That was the problem. It seemed that ever since she'd returned from the battle with Ultimecia, Quistis had been waiting for her life to begin again, for opportunities to open up to her like they had when she was younger. No more. She straightened in her seat and met Kiros' eyes. "You're right, it is time I tried something different. After all, I'll never know unless I try."

"'And those who never try will never know,'" Kiros added. "It's something a wise—ah, entertaining—man told me, many years ago."

⁂

Quistis sat at one end of the varnished wood table in the Balamb Garden conference room, opposite Cid and Xu. Each of her superiors was going over the items from a pair of identical file folders Quistis had provided them. In addition to her official request for a sabbatical, she had included in each folder letters from both Kiros and Argider asserting that the environment and resources available to Quistis during her leave would be more than sufficient for her to achieve her goal, as well as a sample curriculum she was confident she could develop based on the materials she'd read already. Despite her preparedness, however, she was nervous. She had difficulty sitting still and kept her hands folded in her lap, resisting the urge to tug at the collar of her SeeD uniform, which suddenly felt very constrictive.

"Hmm." Xu finished reading the documents first and looked at Quistis. Outside of this room, the two of them were close friends; right now, however, Xu's gaze was entirely businesslike. "This is a very compelling request," she said. "We have known for some time that Balamb Garden's instruction in specialty skills is little more than adequate, but we haven't had the resources to remedy that situation."

"Quite right," Cid mumbled, squinting through his glasses at the sample curriculum.

"However," Xu continued, "you are a SeeD above all, and a highly experienced and valuable member of our organization. Should we approve your request, that would leave us with one less operative for six months, potentially leading to a loss of revenue, not to mention a security concern."

"I spoke to Squall about that before I prepared my request," Quistis offered. "He told me that as matters stand now, he doesn't believe a break in my service as a SeeD would critically impact the continued operation of Garden."

"I'm well aware of what Leonhart thinks, but he's not the one making the decision. In regard to combat, we may be able to function in your absence, Quistis, but as a financial matter—"

"We will be just fine," Cid said, closing his folder. "There are no large-scale conflicts in the world right now that would threaten Garden or require the deployment of large numbers of SeeDs. Furthermore, many of the requests for SeeD that we have been receiving have been for short-term missions. We have more than enough operatives to fulfill those contracts and collect payment from clients."

"Understood." As Xu deferred to Cid's judgment, Quistis noticed her posture relax. Xu had confided in Quistis more than once that she often did not entirely believe what she said during deliberations, but at some point in her career, she had taken on the role of devil's advocate, arguing the negative side of any decision to make sure Cid understood all the risks involved before delivering the final word on the matter.

Cid turned to Quistis. "From the materials you have provided, this sounds like a wonderful opportunity for you and for Balamb Garden. However, especially because this sabbatical will keep you abroad for an extended period, I must make several stipulations." He patted his pockets in search of a pen, and before he could ask, Xu handed him one of her own. "First," he continued, jotting down notes on the back of his folder, "I will require a biweekly progress report from you. It needn't be lengthy, but I need to know that you are committed to completing the proposed curriculum within the span of your sabbatical. Second, you must maintain an adequate level of battle preparedness. This is, of course, impossible for us to gauge from here, but bear your safety in mind. I don't care how much Esthar seems like a technological utopia, there are delinquent elements in any society, and your identity as a SeeD makes you a target. And my final requirement ties into the previous: should Garden find itself involved in an international conflict, you will be immediately called back into service and expected on the next flight out of Esthar. Are we in agreement?"

"Yes, sir." Quistis felt excitement rise in her chest and tried to keep it from affecting her voice. She didn't succeed. "Thank you very much, sir."

"Xu will draw up a contract complete with the dates of your sabbatical and Garden's terms." He slid the folder to Xu and rose from his seat. "When she does, come to my office, and we will discuss the issues of lodging and payment during your leave."

Xu gathered the folders and waited for Cid to leave before she broke into a smile. "Congratulations, Quistis," she said. "If anyone deserves a break from this place, it's you."

⁂

"A sabbatical?" Zell screeched. He had arrived, as usual, late to the conversation. Quistis had been telling Squall and Rinoa about Cid's decision over breakfast the following morning when Zell had settled into the seat beside her and latched on to the first interesting word he heard.

"It's for research," Squall explained, not looking up from the two-day-old Deling City newspaper he was reading. Beside him, Rinoa had filched the page with the daily puzzle and now hunched over it, frowning at the clues and gnawing on the end of her pencil.

"But, but, what if we need you here at Garden?"

"That's highly unlikely," Quistis said. "There aren't any large-scale conflicts at the moment, so I doubt all of Garden will be in the field at once. I'm sure Squall and Xu can handle things while I'm gone."

"I guess... So, what exactly will you be researching?"

"Blue magic. It seems there's a lot that I don't know about it, even though I use it myself—its history, development, the variety of skills that are available. While we were in Esthar, I met someone whose knowledge can help me fill the gaps in my own."

"Argider Cato," Rinoa said with an exaggerated sigh.

"Argi—what?" Zell's brow furrowed. "And why is Rinoa gettin' all moony over there, all of a sudden?"

Squall turned a page and snapped the newspaper straight. "Zell, calm down and let Quistis explain."

"Argider Cato is a librarian who specializes in the study of blue magic," Quistis said. "He has plenty of formal training in the discipline and works with the Estharian government to research the development and application of new skills."

"He also happens to be a total hunk!" Rinoa added, grinning down at her puzzle.

"One who has been properly vetted," Quistis continued, glaring at Rinoa. "I spoke to Kiros, who verified his credentials, and both Kiros and Argider provided letters to Cid and Xu recommending the sabbatical on my behalf. Besides, his expertise will also benefit Garden: Cid only approved the sabbatical on the grounds that I develop a curriculum for blue magic instruction here. So, in a way, I'll still be working. Just not here."

Zell nodded. "I see now. But still, it'll be really strange not seeing you around. You're about as permanent a fixture here as those freaky fountain fish." He deftly dodged Quistis' swipe and turned to Squall. "By the way, Squall, it sounds like this Argider guy's somethin' else. With Rinoa going to Esthar to visit Doc Odine every few months..."

"What are you getting at?" Squall asked, his expression indicating he knew perfectly well what.

"Well, man... aren't you worried?"

Rinoa laughed. "Oh, please. As if I would ever trade this guy for anyone else." She took Squall's hand and gave it a light squeeze. Squall reciprocated, and they exchanged smiles. Quistis heard Zell make a strange sound, like a barely-contained gag, and suppressed her own laugh.

"But I haven't gone blind," Rinoa continued, choosing to ignore Zell's nonverbal commentary. "I can still appreciate beauty when I see it."

Zell shrugged and began eating. "So, Quisty," he said between mouthfuls, "when does your sabbatical start?"

"At the beginning of next month," Quistis answered.

"Wow, that doesn't leave a lot of time to prepare!"

"There isn't much to prepare. Garden has leased an apartment in Esthar for the duration of my stay, and most of the materials I'll need are there, anyway. I just have a few administrative assignments to finish up, and I'm ready."

"Bet you're getting pretty excited, then."

"A little."

"It's got to be more than 'a little,'" Rinoa said, brushing away some eraser dust. "I've been teasing you about Argider, but I know this sabbatical is about you, a chance to find out more about who you are and what you can do. I'd be ecstatic if I had that same chance to learn about being a sorceress. So, come on, how excited are you, really?"

Quistis grinned. "Quite."

Rinoa groaned and shook her head. She folded up her puzzle and tucked the pencil behind her ear, then excused herself to go check on Angelo. Squall soon followed, to attend to his own work. As Quistis rose to return her tray, Zell turned to her again.

"Oh, by the way, I don't think you told me how long you'll be gone," he said.

"Six months," she replied, and walked away, catching a distant "Say what?" as she neared the doors.

⁂

Seven boxes. Eleven years of Quistis' life sat in a small stack in the corner of her dorm room. The bulk of the contents consisted of books and notebooks, with a few personal and sentimental items thrown in. Xu eyed the stack critically and nudged the lowest box with her foot.

"Are you sure you'll need all of these?" she asked.

"Probably not," Quistis answered, placing the last of her clothes into a small, wheeled suitcase, "but it's hard to tell right now which ones are necessary and which aren't. I'd rather take everything with me, instead of asking you to send it over after I'm settled in Esthar."

"Settled. That sounds so permanent."

"I can't think of a better word. Six months is a long time to just visit."

Xu sighed. "Well, we'd better get these loaded on the airship. Do you know if Tilmitt is ready yet?"

As if on cue, Selphie bounded into the room. "Tilmitt's always ready," she said. "You two are the slowpokes!" She hefted two boxes and called out to Rinoa, who poked her head through the doorway and waved. Xu looked from Rinoa to Quistis and frowned.

"She's coming?" she asked.

"Of course," said Quistis. "I invited her."

"Not the dog, too, I hope?"

"No, Squall's taking care of Angelo."

"Fine." Xu walked up to Rinoa and held out her hand, palm up, expectantly. "Hand it over."

Rinoa tilted her head to the side. "Hand what over?" she asked innocently, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips.

"The bangle, Heartilly."

"Oh. That." Rinoa dropped her Odine bangle into Xu's waiting hand. Though this exchange was rooted in the tension that had rippled through Rinoa's first months at Garden, it had become routine and was now largely symbolic. Xu's initial hostility toward Rinoa had long faded, but she still did not trust her completely, particularly when they traveled together. Having the option to rein in the sorceress' powers if the need arose seemed to give Xu—and consequently, everyone around her—a measure of peace.

"Now, grab some boxes and help us load the airship." Xu and Quistis hoisted a pair of boxes each, leaving Rinoa with only one, but also with the added task of maneuvering Quistis' suitcase through the hallways. Corners proved difficult for her, and as she grumbled and tried to free the suitcase's wheels from where they were lodged against the wall, Selphie glanced back and grinned.

"Sorry, Rinnie," she said blithely. "I'd have taken the suitcase myself, but then you'd have two boxes, and I'm not sure you could handle 'em. You're tough, but you're still not as strong as us SeeD women."

Rinoa said nothing, but Quistis felt a cool breeze brush past her ear. A moment later, Selphie yelped and readjusted her grip on the boxes to pull down the hem of her dress, complaining about a draft.

"The bangle, Heartilly," Xu repeated, an undercurrent of amusement in her voice, while Quistis and Rinoa laughed.

When the boxes were secured in the cargo hold and Quistis' suitcase joined the three duffel bags in the cabin's luggage compartments, Selphie slid into the pilot's seat and began flipping switches and checking gauges. The engines roared, and the airship shuddered to life.

"Whoo-hoo," Selphie shouted, "no boys! Just four lovely ladies and an ultra-modern, up-all-night city! Let's party!"

"Might I remind you, Tilmitt, that this is not a pleasure trip," Xu said, adjusting her seatbelt.

"Aw, you're no fun!" Selphie hit a few buttons and pulled a lever, and the airship lifted off. Quistis turned in her seat to watch Balamb Garden drop away from view, followed by the white buildings of Balamb itself. When she could see only the ocean beneath her, she leaned back, wondering whether the sensation in the pit of her stomach was what she'd heard described as homesickness, or just an effect of the airship's ascent.

⁂

The apartment was modest, but modern and clean and well-furnished, though it felt a good deal smaller now that three sleeping bags had been unrolled across the living room floor. After squeezing themselves and their cargo into a hired car from the airstation and alarming the leasing agent with their number and volubility, Quistis and her friends had spent the waning hours of the afternoon unpacking boxes and organizing her new space. Selphie and Rinoa seemed particularly fascinated by the kitchen, and had inquired of the leasing agent where in Esthar one might procure pots and pans and basic cooking utensils. Quistis found out why a short time later, when they both approached her with a binder.

The binder had a yellow gingham cover and a light blue ribbon securing its open end. Blue adhesive letters across the front indicated it was a cookbook. Quistis accepted it and flipped through page after page of recipes, diagrams, and pictures of completed meals.

"We know you probably won't have a lot of time for this kind of stuff," Rinoa said, "but we figured it might be a nice break from the takeout we're pretty sure you'll be surviving on."

"Yeah, and don't worry if you have no idea what you're doing," Selphie said, grabbing a divider tab and flipping to a section near the back. "There's loads and loads of instructions here. Mrs. Dincht helped us out a ton, and so did some of the cafeteria ladies."

"Thank you," Quistis said, smiling and flipping through the binder, an odd sensation creeping into her chest. What was it about this little gift that touched her so, that filled her heart with both happiness and a strange loneliness? She might never even use it. In fact, she hadn't even considered making her own meals while she was here; Rinoa's assumption about eating takeout for months was dead on. Still, the effort that her friends had put into this—researching recipes and methods and interviewing the cooks they knew, then putting it all together in such a lovely presentation—was admirable. That they'd done it specifically for her was nearly overwhelming.

"No problem!" Selphie said. "Nothing in there's too hard to make. Mrs. Dincht let Rinnie and me try out these recipes, and if we didn't burn her house down, then you have nothing to worry about!"

Quistis laughed. "That's reassuring."

Xu walked over and took the cookbook. She glanced through it, then nodded approvingly at Rinoa and Selphie. "This never would have occurred to me," she said. "I guess I'm far too used to Garden's cafeteria staff handling that." Then, grinning at Quistis, she added, "But this is good. I don't want Quistis coming back to Garden overweight and out of shape from eating too much junk food here."

Quistis shook her head, still smiling. "Speaking of food," she said, "it's pretty close to dinnertime. Why don't we head out and see what we can find?"

They ate dinner at a brightly-lit restaurant with a view of the Presidential Palace, laughing and talking over steaming platters of exotically-spiced foods. Selphie and Rinoa insisted on a detour to the candy shop on the way back. Xu balked at the idea, and when Quistis and the other two emerged from the store with boxes of sweets and bottles of sugary drinks, she was waiting outside, holding a box of grain bars and an oversized jug of water.

Back at the apartment, they stayed up a few hours longer, dressed in pajamas and munching on snacks, conversing about topics ranging from serious to silly.  Xu often rolled her eyes at the things Selphie and Rinoa said, but the constant grin on her face gave away the enjoyment she refused to admit. 

Come bedtime, Quistis' friends insisted she sleep in her bed, and Xu immediately claimed the couch for herself.  Watching her friends burrow into sleeping bags and beneath blankets, Quistis felt the same tug in the pit of her stomach as she had in the airship. As different as these young women were, they were all important to her, and she realized just how much she was going to miss them over the next six months. They were her companions and confidantes, her sisters-in-arms, on and off the battlefield. She smiled at them and sighed, her odd sensation giving way to gratitude and pride in being able to count them as her friends.

Back to Top

---

Chapter 3

That familiar dream, again.

Quistis was back in her dorm room at Balamb Garden, but nothing was right. Everything in her room was covered with a thick layer of dust that continued outside and clung to the soles of her shoes. She walked around the first floor of the Garden, looking at the fish fountains, gone still, their faces smeared green with the same algae that choked the fountain pool. The heavy, fetid air gagged her. She wandered into the Training Center and found it overgrown. The parking lot was abandoned, and the library had become like a tomb. She pulled a book off of a shelf and watched it crumble in her hands.

Walking toward the entrance, she stumbled over broken concrete and roots that had pushed their way through the cracks, eager to reclaim the land for themselves. As she neared the front gate, the silence gave way to chatter, to laughter and movement. She looked beyond the gate and saw a world she did not recognize. It was vibrant and bustling, happy and carefree. She saw a few familiar faces. They waved and called to her, but none approached.

She stepped forward to meet them, relieved that she was no longer alone. But as she walked through the gate, the ground undulated beneath her, and two heavy iron shackles erupted from below. They thrashed about on their respective chains like a pair of serpents before latching onto her ankles. Quistis struggled against them, fighting the weight that dragged her down, trying desperately to reach the other side of the gate and the new world everyone had moved on to.

Tears of frustration ran down her cheeks, but she wiped them away and resolved to be strong. Gathering all that was left within herself, she made one final, desperate lunge for the gate.

And opened her eyes with a gasp.

Sitting up and looking around, it took Quistis a few moments to get her bearings. Though the blinds were closed, a few rays of Esthar city light seeped through them, casting strange shadows on her walls. The clock on the nightstand read a little past two. She rubbed her temples and tried to steady her heartbeat.

The same dream, the same chains. The first time she'd broken free of them, she'd tumbled forward into the flower field outside the orphanage. She'd figured it was an effect of Time Compression, one last attempt at retaliation by Ultimecia. The others reported similar experiences on their trip back to the present, waking nightmares tailored to their specific fears.

But her dream continued to haunt her, and with each iteration, the chains became shorter and stronger. She worried that someday, she would have no more chains to fight against, and instead remain shackled to Balamb Garden, becoming as stagnant as the fountain, a relic of a time and a place she could never manage to shake.

Her throat was dry. She got up and headed toward the kitchen, careful to step quietly around her guests. Quistis listened to their soft, rhythmic breathing, but noticed one sleeping bag was unoccupied. Light flooded in from the balcony. Following it, she saw Selphie silhouetted against it, looking over the railing at the city below.

Quistis joined her. "Can't sleep?" she asked.

"Nope!" Selphie held the railing and bounced up and down. "Look at that city down there! I bet they throw amazing parties. How can anyone want to sleep?"

"You might not want to, but as the pilot, you should. You need to be rested. If you crash the airship, I'm pretty sure Xu will hunt you down in the afterlife."

Selphie laughed. "Okay, I understand. Just a little bit longer, though."

Quistis nodded and looked out over the city herself. Even at two in the morning, there was still significant activity: people coming and going from restaurants and bars, talking and laughing as they walked along the skyways below. The control tower at the airstation was alight, its beam alternating blue and white, signaling to airships that probably weren't even in flight right now. The air was dry and still quite warm, and carried the mingled scents of sand and spices. Quistis turned to Selphie, smiling, but was startled by the expression on Selphie's face.

Selphie had not moved, but the grin was gone from her lips and she seemed to be looking past the city's skyline at something that concerned her. "Um, Quistis," she began, "you know I'm really happy for you. This is an exciting new chapter in your life. But watching you take this step, I can't help thinking about my own new chapter." She paused and pushed a few strands of hair away from her eyes. "All my life, my goals have been driven by Garden. Become a SeeD, work for Garden, throw great parties in between. But now, I'm wondering about life outside of Garden."

She leaned over the balcony and tilted her face toward the sky. "There's a whole big, crazy world out there, and it doesn't make sense that there wouldn't be a place in it for me. There has to be, right? I love Garden, and I'm not going to abandon it, but I can't see spending the rest of my life there. I can't see myself turning into a female Cid. I don't look good in sweater vests!"

Quistis laughed. "Don't worry, I don't think that will happen." She became serious. "But you're right, the world is a big place, and it's different now than it was just three years ago. I think... I think a lot of people are sorting themselves out right now, trying to find where they fit in. I'm sure you'll find your place, eventually."

"Yeah, I guess I shouldn't rush it. But it might be worth a little peek around, to get an idea of the options out there." Selphie sighed. "Is this what they mean... is this... growing up?"

"You know, I think it is."

"It's kinda scary. But as long as I don't end up in a sweater vest, I think I'll be A-OK!" Selphie stretched and yawned. She gave one last glance at the sparkling city, then went inside, stepping over Rinoa to reach her sleeping bag. "Goodnight, Quisty," she whispered, then burrowed into the quilted material and closed her eyes.

⁂

"Are you sure we can't just pop by the palace and say hi to Sir Laguna?" Selphie asked. She was her usual self again; any trace of the serious woman on the balcony had faded with the morning light.

"We don't have time, Tilmitt," Xu answered. "Besides, you bug him too much."

"Nuh-uh! I have a standing invitation to the Presidential Palace. 'Drop by whenever.' Those were Sir Laguna's words. His own words!"

"Then drop by on your own time. I have work to get back to."

"Rinnie!" Selphie appealed to Rinoa, who looked up from her half-eaten box of candy, her mouth full.

"What?" she mumbled around the candy.

"Never mind." Realizing she had no support for her proposed itinerary change, Selphie drooped. "Come on, let's get back to Garden."

She and Rinoa shouldered their duffel bags and hugged Quistis goodbye. Xu flung her duffel bag at Selphie and instructed her to wait downstairs. When Selphie and Rinoa's conversation died away down the hall, Xu turned to Quistis.

"Well," she said, "this is really it. Six months away from Garden. Away from the craziness, the drama, the missions. Enjoy." She leaned forward quickly and hugged Quistis. Quistis staggered backwards, unprepared for this display of affection, but regained her balance and returned the hug.

"It's only six months," she said. "I'll be back before you know it. And it's not like we won't be communicating in the meantime, anyway."

Xu broke the embrace and held Quistis at arms' length. "Take care of yourself. If anything happens—if that Cato guy turns out to be some kind of pervert—you let me know right away, and I swear—"

Quistis laughed. "Don't worry so much. I am a SeeD, remember? I can take care of myself. But, if I do need anything, you'll be the first person I call."

Xu nodded, then walked toward the door. She turned around in the doorway and saluted. "In that case, meet you back at Garden, Trepe."

Quistis returned the salute. She watched Xu disappear down the hall, heard her shout at Selphie for not having called the elevator yet. She closed the door and leaned against it. The stillness of the apartment was almost suffocating. She shook off the melancholy of goodbye and set about getting ready. Her sabbatical began today, and in a few short hours, she'd be at the library. There was no time for sadness, no time for doubt.

There was only time to begin.

⁂

The cool air of the library was a relief from the morning heat. Quistis fanned herself as she stepped through the second set of doors.

"Good morning!" A husky female voice greeted her. Quistis looked at the woman behind the front desk and blinked. Beyond her polite smile, this woman had the bearing of a storybook queen. She sat straight in her chair, radiating calm confidence, her hair pulled back from her face and tumbling over her shoulders in dark curls. "How can I help you?" she asked.

Quistis suddenly felt very small, very young in the presence of this woman. "My name is Quistis Trepe," she began. "I'm here on a sabbatical from my work to conduct research under Argider Cato's guidance."

"Wouldn't you know it," the woman said, her smile widening, "as soon as he went back to his desk." She called for Argider, then leaned toward Quistis. "He's been pacing like a caged Torama all morning. I told him to be patient, that you'd arrive on time, but it didn't help. I've never seen him this excited." She looked Quistis up and down. "And now I know why."

Quistis gave an awkward chuckle, unsure how to respond. She heard hurried footsteps, and soon Argider appeared from behind the bookshelves. He grinned and waved at her, and as he got closer, she noticed he looked a bit more put-together than when she first saw him. His shirt and slacks were neatly pressed and creased, and he was clean-shaven. He and Quistis exchanged greetings.

"See?" said the front-desk woman. "I told you she'd make it."

"Thank you, Retta," Argider said, then turned to Quistis. "How was your trip? The directions weren't too bad, were they?"

"No, they were perfectly understandable," Quistis replied.

"Great. Now, since you'll be spending a lot of time here, I think we should get started with a tour of the library, and an introduction." He gestured toward the woman at the front desk. "This is Retta Almante. She's the librarian for our history and folklore collections, as well as the primary contact for vendors and donors."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," said Retta. "I might not be knowledgeable in your chosen field, but if you need help finding anything, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you."

"Have fun, you two," Retta called after them when Argider excused himself and Quistis from her company. "But not too much fun!"

Argider winced. "You'll have to excuse Retta. She has a tendency to build up situations in her mind until they hardly resemble reality. But she's a dedicated worker and a great friend, and one of the most intelligent people I know."

"She seems nice," Quistis replied, glancing back at Retta. "Quite lively, too." She followed Argider through the library, past the bookcases and into the blue magic section. He pointed out the shelves behind his desk, detailing the skill-bearing items within. Then, he approached a door on the far wall, punched an access code into the keypad above the handle, and opened it to reveal a flight of stairs.

"We'll set you up with your own code," he said, "so you can access the second floor. Up here, we have our storage rooms, our archives, and our laboratory."

The storage rooms looked like any other, full of shelves crammed with books and boxes and office supplies. The archive room, however, was sealed tight against moisture and light, accessible through a series of two heavy metal doors. Argider flicked on the light and Quistis marveled at the extent of the collection. Floor-to-ceiling shelves ran the width of the room, set on rails to eliminate the need for a space in between all but two shelves. They were lined with file boxes bulging at the seams, with containers carrying such intriguing labels as "Behemoth Horns" and "O. Lab Rejections". Of course, there were binders and books of different sizes, and an entire shelf dedicated to old periodicals.

"A lot of the items in here were hidden away during Adel's reign," Argider explained. "They were scattered all over the city, and as a consequence, some collections are incomplete. In addition to written material, we also have a few artifacts from some of the museums that closed during that time and never reopened. It's like a giant time capsule."

"Oh my goodness, this is amazing!" Quistis said. Time capsule, indeed. She walked along the ends of the shelves, reading the plaques that signified what they held. She became acutely aware of just how small her world was. Here were stories and artifacts and research articles about places and periods she knew nothing about. While she was growing up and being forced into molds she did not fit, life continued around her, full of discovery and innovation, fear and desperation, resilience and hope.

"See anything you'd like to take a closer look at?" Argider asked.

"Everything," Quistis mumbled to herself, but decided on the shelf labeled "Para-Magic."

"All right, stand back." Argider pressed a button on the wall, and the shelves began to move, sliding over one by one until a narrow aisle opened to give access to the materials on the shelf Quistis specified. She walked into the aisle and looked up. File boxes scrawled with dates almost forty years old lined the top shelf and continued to a stack of periodicals from five years ago.

"It's all there," Argider said. "All of Odine's research, his strange experiments, all the way down to the use of para-magic in skills augmentation through Guardian Force junctioning."

"I'm quite familiar with that aspect," Quistis said, thumbing through a magazine. The articles were of the sort typical of a scientific journal, and covered elements of magic she hadn't even considered. "I just wasn't aware that para-magic was still such fertile ground for research."

"Well, you know us academic types. We'll pick at an issue until there's nothing left, and then start analyzing the nothing." He shrugged and grinned. "It's practically an addiction."

Quistis replaced the magazine. "I'm sorry, but I believe I may have missed the shelf pertaining to blue magic. I assume you have at least some archives that can't be loaned out, correct?"

"Not as extensive as those on para-magic, but yes." He and Quistis walked out and he slid the shelves over to the blue magic section. "Depending on how deep you want to delve into the subject, this is a good collection pertaining to the history of blue magic and early research methodology. However, I should warn you that these documents are incredibly dull, and many authors cover this information in their introductory chapters, anyway. But if you feel you need to read the original research, or to quote a source directly, you'll find it here."

After a bit more browsing, Quistis and Argider left the archives for the laboratory. The laboratory was a clean and open space, with several metal tables standing across the white tile floor. A variety of impressive-looking instruments sat upon the tables and the counters running along the back wall, and a door with a decal that read "Testing Chamber" opened to a side room.

"Here's where a lot of my practical research takes place," Argider said. "I experiment with distilling skill-bearing items into the substances for capsules. Sometimes the manner in which to distill them requires a bit of work, sometimes it's about finding the right amount of the item to encapsulate." He pointed to the side room. "Now, the 'testing chamber' might sound ominous, but I assure you, it's quite mundane. After taking one of the distilled items, a blue mage is required to test out their new skill under my supervision. A program recreates battle conditions, while sensors on the subject's body allow me to monitor his or her reaction to the item. This ensures that both of us are satisfied with the item's effectiveness.

"Of course, there are several important steps between the two processes I just mentioned. Replication and verification of results, and manufacturing and distribution of the distillate capsules. Those steps are outsourced to another laboratory with resources better suited to them." He stopped, then smiled and ran a hand through his hair. "Listen to me, rambling on. I'm sorry. You may not even need to use this space, but I just wanted to give you a complete overview of what I do here."

"There's no need to apologize," Quistis said. "This is all very interesting. I really have so little understanding of the hows and whys of blue magic. At Garden, the process is simply to absorb the skill, then use it to achieve our immediate goal." She paused, searching for the right words. "It's very nice to know this research exists. Kind of comforting, even. For years, I've felt like… well, like a freak, for lack of a better word, but one who was tolerated because her strangeness was useful. Having all this research gives context to my skill, gives me a history that I can be part of. It… anchors me in the wider world."

Argider said nothing, but stared at her intently, his head tilted slightly. Quistis felt her face grow warm and looked quickly away.

"I guess it's my turn to apologize. That was pretty saccharine."

"No," he said slowly, "it was beautiful. I get caught up in my research sometimes, chasing facts and figures to the point that I forget how this even relates to people. Knowing there's someone like you out there, someone who appreciates the human implications of this research, puts a different spin on it. I'll have to remember that."

Quistis smiled, but couldn't bring herself to look at him. For a while, neither of them spoke, letting the silence grow between them, around them, warm and comfortable rather than awkward. Finally, Argider chuckled.

"If this morning is any indication," he said, "I think your sabbatical might be good for both of us." He nodded toward the exit. "Now, let's get back before Retta gets any other crazy ideas in her head."

⁂

The identities of the first blue mages are lost to history, but records of item usage in the development and augmentation of skills replicating magic date back quite far, and the practice may have its roots in the legends of Hyne. The search for Hyne's other half led people to hunt down creatures of great power and consume parts of them in the hope of harnessing that power. When some individuals gained strange skills from such a practice, the concept gained traction. Of course, this practice proved fatal for many more people than it helped.

Those it did help, however, found themselves in a strange position. Thought to have reclaimed a fraction of Hyne's power, they were equally respected and feared; but when it became apparent that they had developed powers absent the "instabilities" associated with sorceresses, blue mages became revered. Before the development of para-magic, blue mages were highly sought as healers, guardians, and warriors.

- P. Mataraci and N. Vardan, History of Blue Mages

Quistis jotted down notes from the text, circling and numbering passages to correspond with the outline of her proposed curriculum. She sat at the table closest to the blue magic section, hardly aware of the patrons browsing around her, listening to the soft sound of computer keystrokes as both Retta and Argider worked on their respective projects.

She was surprised to see mention of Hyne in the textbook, but understood how well it tied into the methods by which blue magic skills were learned. She copied the passage and noted in the margins of her outline to pursue this connection further, after she'd finished developing this curriculum, to see if another course could be built around it.

She was so absorbed in her work that she jumped when Retta said her name.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Retta said. "I just came to say good night and reiterate what a pleasure it was meeting you."

Quistis removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Thank you. It was very nice meeting you, too." She looked outside and noticed that the sun had set below the buildings, but the sky above was still a pale blue. "Is the library closing?"

"No, but my shift's over. Argider will be taking over the front desk duties for the last few hours. Don't feel obligated to stay until closing, though. You need to eat sometime." Retta winked and waved, calling to Argider on her way out. Quistis stood and stretched, catching Argider's eye as he came to the front of the library.

"So, how was your first day?" he asked, walking over and glancing at the scattered notes and open books on her table.

"Productive," Quistis answered. "I think I should have my proposed curriculum completed well before the end of my sabbatical. Then I can focus on my own research, and see how many more course ideas I can generate from that."

"Ambitious. But how about taking a break? You didn't even have lunch, did you?"

"I was planning to, but I guess I got carried away with my work."

"There are a few restaurants just down the street that should be opening for dinner about now. That is," he added quickly, "if you're planning on staying longer. Otherwise, feel free to head home whenever you're finished for the day."

"I think I'll stay a little bit longer, and pick up something to eat on the way to my apartment. A break does sound good, though." She followed him toward the front desk, rolling the stiffness out of her shoulders. "I didn't realize your work day was so long."

"It isn't. I usually come into work a few hours after Retta. But today, I wanted to be here in case you showed up earlier than expected."

"I didn't want you to do anything like that. I have no problem adjusting my schedule. What hours does your shift run?"

"11:00 to 20:00. Does that work for you?"

Quistis nodded. "Of course. I always wondered what it felt like to sleep in late."

"It's one of life's little luxuries," Argider said with a grin.

A patron approached the desk with an armful of books, and as Argider processed the items, Quistis turned and watched the activity on the street outside. Had it really only been four weeks since she'd done this last, her skin still aflame from the sun's brutal assault, on the verge of discovering just how important this library would become to her? Somehow, it seemed half a lifetime ago.

"So," Argider said when the patron had exited the building, "tell me a bit more about this sabbatical of yours. I understand your goals, but what made you decide to pursue them?"

"In all honesty, it's an excuse to immerse myself in the materials you have here," Quistis said. "I was prepared to ask only for the standard leave, but Kiros suggested a sabbatical with a relatively simple project as the end goal. He was right; Garden is so desperate for information about specialty skills, the headmaster approved my request without even questioning my project proposal."

"Kiros can be unexpectedly devious. I admit, though, I was surprised when he approached me with the idea, and even more surprised to hear from you directly. Aside from tutoring undergraduates when I was at university, and helping train new blue mages in the army, I don't have much teaching experience." He reorganized items on the desk. "I have trouble anticipating others' questions and needs, so the best way for us to work together is probably for you to ask me things directly. What you'd like to find out, which materials would be the best resources, and so on. Otherwise, I'm going to assume you know what you're doing."

"I understand." She smiled at him. "And I appreciate your confidence in me."

He returned the smile. "It's not unfounded."

⁂

In the modern era, advancements in medicine and weaponry reduced civilians' reliance on blue mages, rendering their services unnecessary outside of organized conflict. The development of para-magic further marginalized blue mages, as skilled para-magic users were far more common and easily trained, making blue mages' skills redundant.

Military organizations, however, still retain and aggressively recruit blue mages for their repertoires of powerful skills that require no additional items to use. The almost entirely self-contained nature of blue magic places very little strain on a force's available resources, and thus presents a significant advantage on the battlefield.

- P. Mataraci and N. Vardan, History of Blue Mages

Quistis looked up from the text and frowned at the sunlight slipping through the blinds pulled across her balcony door. She hadn't slept well the night before, waking often from restless dreams punctuated by a sense of isolation and an indefinable longing, and now daybreak had found her. She sighed and rose from her little kitchen table that overflowed with the books and notebooks that competed for space with her laptop, moved the blinds aside, and stepped out onto the balcony. The morning air was cool, signifying summer's loosening grip on the city, though the sun seemed to work twice as hard during the afternoon to reclaim it. Below her, the peculiar contrast of a weekend morning played out, with shopkeepers and restaurant owners arriving at their businesses while the last of the late-night revelers staggered home.

It had been almost a month since she'd arrived, and already, this place felt familiar. Familiar, but a bit sterile. More and more, she found she preferred the vibrancy of the neighborhood surrounding the library: its colors, its sounds, the aromas drifting from restaurants, the bustle of people, the serenity of the afternoon rest. The activity outside made the library feel like a haven, and, in the soft hours of early evening, when the signs of businesses flickered to life and music poured from speakers in cafes and bars, it felt almost like a home.

In the hour before closing, when most patrons were lured away by the lights and the crowds, Argider would sit with her, and they'd go over whatever she'd completed that day, addressing any issues she had with it. It had become routine, but she was surprised the first evening he sat down across from her and asked to see her work.

"It's not very coherent," she said, sliding her notes over to him, "but here is the outline I'm working from."

He looked over the papers and nodded. "It looks like it's coming together well. May I make some suggestions?"

Quistis nodded but inwardly cringed. "Suggestions" were rarely positive, and in her experience, could eviscerate an entire argument.

Argider pointed to a section of the outline. "Your outline for your introductory module is clear and comprehensive," he said, "and for a student with your experience and access to research material, I'd say it's wonderful. However, it might be a little overwhelming for a new student to absorb all at once. Have you considered presenting a generalized overview, then delving into specifics at the beginning of each module afterward?"

"I had, but I'm concerned that if the introductory module can't generate enough interest, many students will abandon the course—mentally or physically—before the other concepts are properly introduced."

"That's a valid concern. But think back on courses that interested you. I'm sure they had dull sections, but something must have kept you engaged throughout."

Quistis tapped her pen against the table. "Well, I always enjoyed courses that provided supplemental material. Just small side articles that gave the main lesson additional context."

"Something to anchor it in the wider world."

Quistis looked up quickly, surprised to hear him reference her earlier statement. Argider simply smiled at her.

"I think you already know what the heart of your course is," he said. "Don't be afraid to build around that."

"You don't think it's selfish? It's my reason for wanting to learn more about blue magic, but I can't speak for any prospective students."

"But don't you think you'll do a better job on something you're passionate about, rather than forcing yourself to create what you think other people want?" He shrugged. "You can't please everyone. But if you're pleased with your work, that'll come through, and you might turn a few more people to your point of view than you otherwise would."

He handed the papers back to her and looked her in the eyes. "Listen," he continued, "it's impossible for me to know what it's like to grow up in Garden, but I spent a couple years in the army, so I do understand regimentation and the drive to conform. For some people, that's an ideal environment; for others, it can be hell. I also understand that no matter how hard these organizations try, it's incredibly difficult to completely extinguish the individual inside. But, after so long, it might be just as hard to get that person back. That doesn't mean it's not worth a shot."

"I am apprehensive," Quistis admitted. "If Garden rejects this curriculum, my sabbatical—and their funds—will have gone to waste."

"It's not a waste if you get something out of it. Besides, didn't you tell me that Garden is desperate for new material? This curriculum will be a net gain for them. I highly doubt they'll reject it out of hand. No matter what you produce, you're filling a need." He leaned back and grinned. "Consider this carte blanche to do whatever you want."

Quistis bit her lip but couldn't stop the smile from spreading across her face. "You know, when you put it that way, it sounds incredibly exciting." She hiked an eyebrow. "Maybe even a little dangerous."

"Oh, yeah. Us two bookworms, livin' on the edge."

Armed with a new perspective, Quistis began to take joy in her work, rather than worry whether she was doing it right. Argider pulled together references for her, and even asked Retta to gather some materials pertaining to world history and folklore. Quistis found herself looking forward to their evening review sessions, which often as not strayed from work into pleasant conversation. The shackles of Garden were loosening around her heart, and she was becoming acutely aware of the space they created.

Taking a deep breath of morning air, Quistis decided she couldn't spend the day cooped up in her apartment. There was life out there. The stately order of the skyways or the colorful commotion around the library, it mattered little to her. She showered, dressed, and headed out into the city.

Out of habit, she boarded the lift headed to the Industrial District. Embarrassed that routine still seemed to guide her movements, she nevertheless decided to make the best of the situation. Several storefronts near the library had caught her eye, but she'd never made time to visit, and there were still a few restaurants she hadn't tried.

She was browsing a display of colorful clay figurines set up outside one of the shops when two little boys holding toy airships rushed past, approximating mechanical sounds with their mouths. Quistis jumped out of their way, catching herself before she stumbled off the curb. She heard a woman call the boys back, and then the same woman called her name. Quistis turned around.

"Retta!" she said. The librarian stood on the sidewalk, flanked by the little boys, wearing an Estharian robe but foregoing the headdress. Considering how much trouble Rinoa had had putting one on, Quistis suspected that Retta simply couldn't fit all of her hair into one. Behind Retta, a man completed his transaction with a shopkeeper, then handed her a bag. She thanked him, then gestured toward Quistis.

"Haren, this is Quistis, the young woman I mentioned who is studying with Argider," she said. "Quistis, this is Haren, my husband."

"Very nice to meet you, Quistis," Haren said with a short bow.

"Likewise." Quistis replied. Retta introduced the two boys as her sons, who suddenly became very shy and tried to hide behind her. She pulled both of them in front of her and instructed them to shake Quistis' hand. As they did, their shyness melted away into wide smiles.

"So," Retta continued, "what brings you out here on a weekend? I thought you were staying in the city center."

"I am, but I decided to take a little break from my work and look around the area. I've never had a chance to visit many of these businesses."

"I'm glad you're finally learning the value of downtime." She glanced back at her husband, and the two of them seemed to silently agree on something. "We were just about to get something to eat. Now, I know you seem to subsist on air, but why not change that, too, and join us?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose…"

"It's not an imposition, it's an invitation. Come on."

Quistis sat at a large round table inside a crowded restaurant, between Retta and her older son. As Retta heaped portions of foods on her plate from the platters and bowls that were brought to the table, Quistis learned that Haren worked as an accountant for a firm in the Financial District, and that both boys were preparing to return to school. The younger boy looked at his toy sitting next to his plate and asked Quistis if she liked airships, and both boys stared at her wide-eyed when she said some of her friends were pilots.

"Awesome!" the older boy said. "But have you ever flown an airship?"

"Once or twice," Quistis said, "but I was never very good at it. Luckily for me, that airship had an auto-pilot feature."

Haren looked at her thoughtfully. "My wife tells me you're a SeeD," he said at last. "SeeD had possession of the Ragnarok for a while—beautiful ship, my friend's father worked on it back in the day—and I wonder, did you ever get the chance to admire it?"

Quistis dipped her head and grinned. "Actually, that was the airship I flew... well, set to auto-pilot."

"Oh, my goodness," Retta exclaimed, "I had no idea you were one of those SeeDs! Please, allow me to thank you for your service. I can't say I understand exactly what you kids did, but I understand the outcome very well." She turned to her sons. "Straighten up and show some respect! You're sitting next to a hero."

As the two boys gaped at her, Quistis tried to downplay Retta's praise. "I wouldn't say that, exactly... My friends and I just did what was necessary."

"Don't be so modest. You have to learn to own your accomplishments. I thought you'd have picked that up by working with Argider." Retta paused. "Speaking of Argider, I wonder if he knows who you really are."

"He might, considering he knows officials from the Presidential Palace. He's never mentioned it, though, and it would be awkward to bring it up." Quistis ate a forkful of the meat on her plate, savoring the warmth and spiciness of the sauce it was served in, and washed it down with a sip of cold tea.

"Besides," she continued, "I'm quite comfortable with the way we're working together now. I wouldn't want him to think of me as anything more than another researcher."

Retta shook her head. "Oh, Quistis. It's too late for that."

Quistis stared at Retta, her mouth hanging open. Retta just beamed and picked up another bowl, spooning more food onto Quistis' plate. "Here, you have to try this," she said. "It's one of this restaurant's specialties!"

Back to Top

---

Chapter 4

Quistis idly thumbed through the book in front of her. She'd spent the past twenty minutes reading and rereading the same paragraph, unable to concentrate as Retta's mysterious words swirled in her head. Rationally, she knew it was most likely a case of Retta teasing her, trying to elicit a reaction. But she couldn't stop her thoughts from drifting to other possibilities, both terrifying and thrilling, and she hated herself for it. She was here to work, not to entertain frivolous fantasies at the cost of productivity.

Still...

A sharp ding from her laptop jolted her out of her reverie. She looked at the screen and clicked on the notification that had popped up, and soon Xu appeared, slightly distorted, in the small window of the communications application.

"Hi, Quistis," Xu said, then leaned forward and squinted at her own screen. "I know these video communications aren't the best quality, but you look really tired. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Quistis replied, "but I didn't sleep well last night."

"Oh?"

"The usual. Worries, odd dreams. It was easier to stay up and work."

"Speaking of work, Cid is really pleased with your progress reports so far.  Cid asked me to remind you that your next progress report is due soon.  I don't know what you're writing in those things, but it's fun to watch him read them.  He frowns and hmms and nods to himself, then files it away without a second glance."

Quistis smiled.  "That sounds about right for him."

"Yeah."  Xu chuckled.  "So, I take it everything's going well over there? Well, except for your sleep, but that's nothing new."

"Oh, yes. My research has been productive and very enlightening. I've just completed an overview of the history of blue magic and discovered some surprising ties to folklore, and I'm moving on to methods of introduction of skill-bearing items and the absorption of skills. Argider's pulling some references for me over the weekend."

"And Argider… is he treating you well?" Xu arched an eyebrow. "No funny business?"

Quistis rolled her eyes.  "Of course not.  He's a knowledgeable professional who has helped me immensely in the short time I've been here. Certainly more than Garden ever has."

"Ooh, that's a low blow."

"You know what I mean.  Sure, Garden has given me a home and a job, but it hasn't taught me a thing about who I am.  Why do I have an aptitude for blue magic?  What does it mean?  Where do I fit in, in the history of magic-users, in the world at large?"

Xu frowned.  "I understand, but... does it really matter?"

"Of course, it does!  I'm not just a tool, a weapon, for SeeD to deploy.  These powers came from somewhere, and they're far more varied than I ever imagined.  They're a part of me, as a person, not just as a SeeD, and I feel like, for the first time in my life, I'm able to value the person as much as the SeeD."

"Whoa, there!  No need to get defensive."

Quistis sighed but said nothing, not quite sure herself where that passionate outburst had come from.

"I guess I can see where you're coming from, though," Xu went on.  "I'd never thought about blue magic in that way."

"Neither had I, and that's the problem."

"But that's changing now, right?  That's great!"  Xu's brightness was a bit too sudden to strike Quistis as genuine.  "Well, I'll let you get back to studying; see what else you can find out.  Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Before Quistis could respond, Xu disconnected the call.  Was she still upset by Quistis' remarks about Garden?  Was she unnerved by her limited understanding of innate magic skills?  Or was she simply in a hurry?

It was impossible to tell for sure.  Xu was hardly better than Squall when it came to admitting her feelings, especially if they weren't entirely positive.  But right now, she was half a world away, and her feelings were not Quistis' problem.

The open books and mess of notes strewn across the table before her, however, were.

⁂

Ingestion of a skill-bearing item remains the only known method by which to absorb a blue magic skill. Items may be ingested in one of three ways:  raw ,  processed , or  distilled .  Raw ingestion  is the ingestion of an item in the same state in which it was obtained.  Processed ingestion  entails altering the item in a way to facilitate ingestion. For example, a blue mage might choose to crush an inferno fang into powder to more easily ingest it and absorb the Fire Breath skill. Finally, the  distilled ingestion  method replaces ingesting the item itself with the ingestion of a capsule into which the item has been distilled. These distillations must be prepared by trained individuals, and though the effects are not always immediate and not always successful, this is the method of choice for organizations that employ multiple blue mages, due to its rapidity and the availability of a variety of items.

- G. Merrin, Blue Magic Skills: A Practical Guide and Analysis

Quistis scribbled a few notes and yawned.

"Yeah, the 'Methods of Introduction' section is incredibly tedious," Argider said, looking up from his computer screen.

"Oh, it's not the material," Quistis said. "I just haven't slept well lately."

Argider grinned. "You don't have to make excuses. It's boring. But it also lays the foundation for many theories and further studies. This might be the biggest challenge you'll face in creating your curriculum, in the sense of maintaining student interest. Have you decided how you're going to present it?"

"I'd really like to continue providing supplemental material to round out the lesson." Quistis thought for a moment. "For the first section of the course, I was able to expand on the historical and cultural context of blue magic, but this section is strictly scientific. It would be nice to illustrate the concepts with some objective data: experiments and case studies, perhaps even an explanation of the distillation process."

"Great ideas! We have plenty of the first two kinds of materials in the archives. As for the last one, I wouldn't mind giving you a demonstration. Firsthand observation of the process might make it easier to explain it in your own words, rather than parroting some of the jargon-filled chapters in these books." As Argider was rising from his chair, the phone on his desk rang, a distinctive pattern that made him groan and sit back down.

"I have to get this," he said. "It's the lab, and they are not patient. If they can't reach me here, they'll contact my superiors at the government agency, and then they'll be bugging me." He lifted the receiver. "Yes.… Yes, I finished it last week… No, I couldn't find an explanation for the outlying results…"

While he spoke on the phone, Quistis leaned back in her chair and stretched. When she'd begun researching the current section of the curriculum, Argider had suggested she move to the back of the library to work, closer to the materials she would need and within speaking distance of him should she have questions. With Retta's words from several days before still echoing in her mind, Quistis agreed apprehensively at first, but she soon relaxed as Argider went about his own work, stopping only infrequently to ask how she was doing.

She decided that Retta's comment had been a gentle joke; at worst, it was simply an indication of what Argider had warned Quistis about on the first day of her sabbatical—Retta's imagination running wild. Argider himself had never made her feel anything but comfortable. Patient and a little awkward, he was also respectful and lighthearted and easy to talk to. Quistis resolved to be more careful about allowing others to influence her opinions.

"I have the sample and my final report," Argider continued, "but I can't make the trip there today. Could you send someone to pick them up?… Great, I'll be expecting him, then. Thank you." He hung up and turned toward Quistis. "Sorry for the interruption. Go on and head up to the archives. I'm just going to give Retta a message, and then I'll join you."

Two boxes crammed with file folders took up much of the space on the table in the archives room. Quistis perused lab reports, reading abstract after abstract and examining the data. Argider thumbed through the folders, searching for results of experiments conducted before the widespread use of distilled items. Those he found, he set aside, and eventually, he slid a small stack of folders across the table to Quistis.

"These reports detail the most recent experiments in methods other than distillation that I could find," he said. "Unfortunately, most of them are pretty old. It seems that once distillation methods were fully developed, many researchers abandoned the other methods entirely. It's kind of a shame, really."

"Thanks. These will do just fine for a simple overview of the methods of introduction," Quistis said, setting aside her own pile of folders and flipping through the ones he'd given her. Halfway through a folder, she stopped shuffling papers and frowned, bringing a hand to her chin.

"What's wrong?"

"In the chapter I read today, the author mentioned that even the ingestion of distilled items does not completely guarantee absorption of the corresponding skill. I was wondering if there was a document anywhere that might list the comparative efficacy of all methods of introduction across all known skills."

"Now that's going to require a search. I don't know of any offhand. Researchers have been working with the question of item effectiveness for decades, but most studies I've read have focused on the skill-bearing item itself, and didn't compare the methods of introduction, at least not in great detail." He wrote something on a scrap of paper. "Tell you what, let's finish gathering materials and data for the section of the curriculum you're currently working on, and then we can go straight into some of the more popular theories about blue magic applications. You might find something close to the document you're seeking, and in the meantime, I'll continue to look for an exact fit."

Quistis made a note to the same effect in the margins of her notebook. "That sounds good. One step at a time, right?"

As she read through another report, Quistis heard the outer door to the archives opening. Soon afterward, someone rapped on the second door. Retta opened it and poked her head through.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said with a grin, then turned toward Argider. "The representative from O. Labs is here to pick up the sample and your report."

"Right." Argider excused himself, followed by Retta. Labs. Quistis pretended to be absorbed in the document before her, but now new questions unrelated to her studies sprung to mind.

O. Labs. Wasn't that how Dr. Odine referred to his laboratory? Was that the laboratory Argider had mentioned outsourcing work to, and if so, how could she have not known Odine also focused on blue magic? It was just as well, since, judging by how Rinoa returned from her first few appointments, exhausted to the point that Squall needed to carry her at times, Odine did not seem to be kind toward his subjects. How exactly did he implement Argider's research and experiments, and—more importantly—how could Argider be so casual about working with a man of such compromised ethics? Unless he was one himself…

Quistis heart sank. Perhaps she didn't understand Argider as well as she thought. Perhaps, in her selfish desire to learn more about her own skills, she had stumbled headlong into the kind of situation she'd normally steer well clear of.

She jumped at the sound of the door opening, and as Argider took his seat across from her, he apologized again for the interruption and resumed his search through the folders.

"O. Labs," Quistis ventured, "that's Odine's laboratory, right?"

He looked up. "Not exactly," he said, then smiled when she creased her brow and frowned at him. "The situation's a bit confusing, but I'll try my best to explain. The lab you're thinking of is Dr. Odine's laboratory, a singular noun. That is his personal lab, where he runs all of his experiments on para-magic and junctioning and whatnot. Odine Laboratories, in the plural, is a separate company that has the misfortune of bearing his name simply because he was the primary benefactor of its establishment."

"Really."  Argider made no effort to withhold any information, but Quistis' uneasiness remained.  "The implied association is unfortunate.  I've seen the effects of Odine's tests on his subjects, and it's clear that the man is far from compassionate."

"No argument there, but the situation is what it is." He watched her, and for a few awkward moments, she avoided his gaze. "You know," he said finally, "I didn't think SeeDs painted in such broad strokes."

Quistis' head snapped up. "What?"

Argider shrugged. "You all are mercenaries. Your world is colored in shades of gray. I thought someone like you, of all people, would understand the concept of affiliation by necessity."

"I understand it on a rational level, but I suppose mine is a visceral reaction. It's hard for me to separate Odine's name from what I know about how he works, the pain he causes others in pursuit of his own goals, his own glory."

Argider sat back and exhaled slowly. "In all honesty, I don't like the man, either. He's a pompous bastard who has no regard for practical science, or human dignity, for that matter. But at the end of the war, with Adel defeated and the new government adopting isolationist policies, research and engineering became extremely important. Esthar needed a place to gather its brightest minds, and the money to retain them and fund their projects. Because of how close he was to Adel and how well she compensated him for his experiments, Odine had the most individual capital to contribute to the development of the proposed laboratory. His sole condition was that the new company bear his name.

"How do you think Estharians survived seventeen years in isolation, especially in this terrain? We relied on massive greenhouses, hydroponic farming, water delivery and purification systems, genetically modified livestock, practical and magical medical care—all of which were developed and implemented by the employees of Odine Laboratories. Associating these projects and future research, however tangentially, with an ethically-challenged egomaniac was—and remains—a small price to pay for survival and innovation."

Quistis sat silently, staring at her hands on the table, her cheeks burning. She had always prided herself on being able to think critically, to separate her emotions from the facts available to her. But in this case, all she'd had was emotions, until Argider provided the facts and the context. She was ashamed of her ignorance, ashamed of leaping headfirst into an argument she had no ammunition to fight, let alone win. Argider's lecture annoyed her, but she was far angrier with herself for having provoked it with her admittedly childlike perspective on the matter.

"Sorry." Argider's tone had softened considerably. "I'm sorry if that sounded harsh. I guess I felt defensive, particularly because of my association with O. Labs. Like you, I can understand your position on Odine and anything affiliated with him, but I can't help but feel differently." He paused until she looked up at him. "I know it's a matter of conscience for you, and while you're here, I promise I won't ask you to deal with the laboratory directly. But please understand that any major research project in Esthar will inevitably tie back to them, so consider that when deciding how far you want to pursue your own work."

Quistis nodded.  "And I should apologize for jumping to conclusions.  Like I said, it was a visceral reaction to the name alone."  She grinned and tried to focus on her work once more. The tension lingered between them for a while, an unfortunate distraction, but as the afternoon wore on and they found more reports to discuss, it quickly dissipated. By the time Retta stopped by to announce her departure, Quistis and Argider were once again trading questions and ideas about the research before them.

"You two seem to work so well together," she remarked as they followed her downstairs.

"For the most part. But we do have our moments," Argider said, grinning at Quistis.

"Moments?"

"So far, nothing a solid discussion and a little time can't fix," Quistis added, returning his smile. Despite her embarrassment and frustration earlier in the afternoon, she still felt at ease around Argider. If anything, his professed dislike for Odine reinforced this feeling. "Affiliation by necessity," he had called it, and it was a concept she understood far too well. Different contexts aside, it was something they shared, something that nudged her a little bit closer to him than she had been that morning.

"Discussion?" Retta laughed. "You whet a woman's appetite for juicy gossip, and it turns out to be nothing more than intellectual sparring? Whatever am I going to do with both of you?"

⁂

Quistis stood in the second-floor hallway, looking out the large window and smiling at the thunderheads rising at the periphery of the city. Argider shut the door to the archives behind him and joined her.

"Enjoying the view?" he asked.

"It feels like it's been years since I've seen clouds," Quistis said. "Those are impressive."

"Yeah, and better yet, they're a sign that summer's finally winding down. The cold fronts pushing in always make thunderstorms at this time of year. I, for one, welcome the rain."

"Me too."

"Well," Argider said, nodding toward the laboratory door, "pleasant as it is, talking about the weather won't further your research. Come on."

Quistis took a seat at one of the tables in the lab as Argider prepared the materials and instruments necessary for his demonstration of the distillation process. When he was ready, he opened a container and pulled out an inferno fang.

"The first part of this process is probably very familiar to you," he said, grinding the item down with a mortar and pestle. Quistis watched him work, and couldn't help but notice how the muscles in his hand and forearm flexed with the effort, veins and tendons straining against his skin. She swallowed hard and averted her eyes, focusing instead on the distillation apparatus he had set up on the far counter.

"But here's where the differences begin," he continued, now that he had ground the fang into a fine powder. He added some water to the mortar and swirled the mixture around before pouring it into the distillation flask set on a small platform above a gas burner. "As you know, a raw inferno fang contains not only the element that blue mages absorb to learn the skill, but also other elements that are considered, in this case, contaminants: dragon saliva, organic matter from whatever the dragon last consumed, even traces of dirt and fragments of rock. Distilling the processed inferno fang allows us to separate the skill-bearing element from these contaminants."

Quistis took down notes. "To this point, the process looks like it can be undertaken by anyone with hands-on laboratory experience," she said. "What about the rest of the process requires that the resulting capsule be prepared only by properly trained individuals?"

"Good question. The distillation of an item, when properly done, concentrates the skill-bearing element. Special training is required to identify and administer the element in an appropriate dosage."

"And if it isn't?"

"Too little, and the skill never takes. Too much, and the blue mage is subjected to a good deal of physical pain, with or without hallucinogenic side effects." Argider laughed when Quistis looked up in alarm. "Don't worry, it doesn't kill the mage. The mage's condition usually improves within several days, once their body has processed and expelled the excess element. It is, however, a terrible ordeal, and the mental and physical strain it places on the blue mage can have lasting effects."

"How is the dosage determined?" Quistis winced, already guessing at the answer.

"Trial and error, I'm afraid," Argider said with a shrug. "Thankfully, that has been completed for most known skills, and we have very good guidelines from which to work."

When the process was complete, Argider took the flask with the distillate and held it up for her to see. The liquid inside was a brilliant red-orange, sparking gold like tiny flames where it caught the light. He poured the distillate into a small bowl and stirred in a gelatinizing agent, then pipetted the mixture into waiting capsules. When he was finished, a dozen sparkling red capsules were arrayed on a tray before him.

"There you have it," he said. "You took good notes, I hope?"

"Of course." Quistis put on the glove he offered her and picked up one of the pills. Like the capsule of a distilled black hole he'd shown her the first time she'd visited the library, the contents of this capsule had an iridescent sheen. She turned the pill and stared at it for several moments, admiring the play of light and color. "The introduction of this procedure alone represents a big step forward in Garden's blue magic instruction. I wonder, however, if they will be able to put it into practice. Would you consider producing skill-bearing distillations for Garden?"

Argider put the capsules in a small box. "I wouldn't be averse to the idea, but access to these items is strictly regulated, and that issue would most likely fall under the category of international trade. I don't think it would hurt to attempt negotiations to that end, though."

When Argider finished cleaning up and they exited the laboratory, Quistis looked out the hallway windows and gasped. The clouds she'd seen earlier now stretched toward the city, already casting their shadows over the outlying neighborhoods. Farther in the distance, however, the space between the earth and the sky had disappeared, appearing to Quistis as if the land, thirsty for rain after so long, had taken the initiative and risen up to meet the clouds. A thick, roiling haze obscured the horizon between buildings, moving closer slowly but steadily, the city in its path.

"Ah, a good Estharian dust storm," Argider said. "If you were hoping for the weather to change, you just got your wish. You've never been here during one of these, have you?"

Quistis shook her head.

"It's an experience. Let's get downstairs, first, though. Right now, we're standing in one of the worst places to be."

It was indeed an experience. Quistis sat at one of the tables at the front of the library, far enough from the windows and glass doors to be safe, but still able to watch the dust cloud descend upon the city. Several unlucky citizens who the storm had caught by surprise rushed into the library for shelter. Some chatted with Retta, while others joined Quistis to watch the chaos unfold outside.

The arrival of the rain was imperceptible at first, running down the windows as rivulets stained brown with dust, then opening into a full downpour punctuated by flashes of lightning. The sound it made against the windows was relaxing, and Quistis began to feel drowsy, only to be roused again by a crash of thunder.

Argider pulled a chair from an adjacent table and sat down next to her. "Pretty impressive, right?"

"Absolutely."

"I figure you must get a decent amount of rain in Balamb. This must feel like a call from an old friend."

"No, it's more like a call from a complete stranger. We do get quite a bit of rain in Balamb, and some pretty powerful storms blow in from the ocean, but this feels different, more like an eruption than a storm." Quistis paused. "After the weeks of heat and sunlight, this storm feels oddly cathartic."

"I understand what you mean. To me, it's like a fever breaking, especially considering the cool weather that follows."

Quistis looked at him. Argider was not normally given to figurative speech, but the storm seemed have a powerful effect on him. He watched it with a dreamy expression, a grin on his lips, lightning reflected in his eyes.

The small crowd in the library gasped and cried out as a tearing sound traversed the sky above them before culminating in a loud bang, and they collectively groaned as the lights went out and the air conditioner fell silent.

"And there it goes," Retta said. "It wouldn't be a proper Estharian storm if we didn't lose power." She muttered under her breath about unsaved work and pulled two flashlights from the desk drawer. "I'd like to be optimistic and say it'll be back on before nightfall, but prior experience has taught me otherwise." Several patrons nodded and commiserated.

The storm subsided almost as quickly as it had arrived. The people who'd sought refuge in the library filed out into the darkened street, as the sun set and streaked the straggling clouds with crimson. Retta prepared to leave, wondering aloud what her boys were getting up to.

"With the power out, the lifts can't run," she explained, "and there's no quick way for my husband to get home from his job in the Financial District. My sons are staying with their friends' mother, but a passel of little boys, a power outage, and no shortage of puddles to splash in add up to a very stressed woman. I need to go rescue her." She smiled at Quistis. "Don't worry. With any luck, the power will be restored by the time your shift is over, and the lifts will be running again."

"Yeah, but luck is rarely reliable," Argider said once Retta had left. He pushed open both sets of doors and carried a pair of chairs into the vestibule. "Without the air conditioner, it's going to get uncomfortable in here really quickly. We can wait out the power outage by the front door. The rain cooled the air and there's a nice breeze."

"I'll collect my things first," Quistis said, accepting a flashlight from Argider. "I might be able to get a little more done, if only by flashlight." As she walked toward the back, she noticed that already, the air inside the library was growing warm and heavy with humidity. Quistis hurriedly packed her materials and went back outside, where Argider had struck up a conversation with a couple. The woman looked up as Quistis walked out, and her eyes widened. She clicked her tongue and shook her finger at Argider.

"Argider," she scolded, "where in the world have you been hiding such a lovely young lady?"

"Where else? I keep her in the second-floor storage room." He turned to Quistis and feigned surprise. "Curses! She's escaped!" He broke into a wide grin as Quistis and the couple laughed, then introduced them to each other.

The couple owned a nearby restaurant and were distributing food they had already prepared but feared would go bad with no refrigeration. "Outages aren't uncommon in Esthar, especially around this time of year," the man explained, handing Quistis a container. "However, there is a hierarchy of necessity when it comes to restoration. The city center is the electric company's priority, for obvious reasons. Once power is restored to that sector, the rest of the city slowly comes back on."

"So, in all likelihood, your apartment's gotten power back already," Argider added, already starting on his food. "The only problem is getting there."

"You might as well just relax here," the woman said. "Depending on the nature of the outage, the wait for restoration might not be too long."

Quistis appreciated the woman's attempt at reassurance, but saw the skeptical look she exchanged with her husband. The couple chatted for a few more minutes, then excused themselves to distribute more food. Argider and Quistis remained where they were until closing time, making sporadic small talk, but mostly enjoying the storm-cooled air and each other's quiet company.

"Looks like we're in for a long one, this time," Argider said, rising and stretching. "Well, Quistis, with the lifts down, you have two options. You can wait here for the power to come back on, but aside from pushing a few chairs together out here, there's nowhere to rest when you get tired. Or, you could walk back to your apartment. It's a fairly long way, but it's possible."

Quistis considered this. She hated sitting idle, and really didn't want to keep Argider at the library unnecessarily, but she was unsure how to find her way back to the city center, especially in the dark. She supposed she could follow the lift tubes. It was better than doing nothing.

"I think I'll head back," she said.

"Great! I'm coming, too."

"That's not necessary. I'll be fine."

"Oh, I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself. But there are a few other reasons I'm tagging along. One, it's a lovely night for a stroll, wouldn't you agree?" He smiled and paused, but when Quistis didn't respond, he continued. "Two, I don't relish the prospect of spending the night in a stuffy apartment. I can book a room at a hotel in the city center and get some decent rest. And, most importantly, three: I don't believe you know the way back on foot, do you? Following lift tubes becomes nearly impossible once you reach the Industrial District."

"That's true," Quistis admitted. She carried a chair inside and wondered how honest he'd been when he claimed to be bad at anticipating others' questions or needs. "I appreciate your help."

"It's my pleasure." He flicked on the flashlight. "I'm going to gather my things, and, since the cleaning crew won't be able to work tonight, I'll just run a quick check of the building so we don't have a mess to deal with in the morning." Quistis watched the beam of his flashlight disappear between the shelves.

Satisfied with his inspection, he reemerged with his backpack slung over one shoulder and keys at the ready. As he locked the library doors behind them, Quistis began walking in the direction of the lift station. He called her back.

"This way." He pointed down the street in the opposite direction. "No sense going a half-mile out of our way for a station that's not even in service now."

Above them, the clouds, tinged pink by the lights that had already been restored, broke apart to reveal pockets of night sky dotted with stars that were normally outcompeted by those same lights. A gentle wind pushed the clouds along, dragging them across the full moon. Quistis smiled and breathed deeply; the scents of damp concrete and asphalt were not nearly as pleasant as the natural smells of the Balamb countryside after a rain, but they were cool and refreshing nonetheless.

"This is nice," she said, and was startled by a scoff from the shadows.

"It's a damn nuisance, is what it is," the scoffer said. He was an older man, wiry and balding. He leaned against the front of what appeared to be a small shop and nodded at them. "Good evening, Argider," he continued. "Who's your cheerful little friend here?"

"Hello, Mitri," Argider said politely. He explained who Quistis was and where they were headed. Mitri, however, seemed wholly uninterested in hearing the answer to his own question, and instead grumbled about potential thieves lurking in the darkness. He had committed to staying at his business all night, if need be, to discourage such delinquents, and admonished Argider for not doing the same.

"Don't mind him," Argider said when they'd moved out of earshot. "Mitri isn't happy if he isn't complaining about something or other."

"But is it a legitimate complaint?" Quistis asked, peering into dark alleys as they passed. "Are thieves a problem here?"

"I'm sure there are a few individuals with such ambitions on their minds tonight, but hardly in the numbers Mitri would have you believe. You're better off worrying about the sidewalks here. They're uneven in a lot of areas, and the rain can make them slick."

Several blocks later, Argider unintentionally proved his point, tripping on an uneven slab of concrete. He cursed and stumbled forward. Instinctively, Quistis grabbed his arm, pulling him back, while stretching her other arm across his chest to help slow his fall. She felt his weight on her arm and pushed back, helping him right himself. For several seconds, neither of them moved. Quistis could feel the warmth of his body through his shirt, his heartbeat against her arm. Argider, meanwhile, still looked forward, blinking as if he couldn't understand how he had not hit the ground. Then, slowly, he turned to face her, wearing a lopsided grin.

"Wow," he said.

Quistis, suddenly aware of their proximity, stepped back and released her hold on him, folding her arms across her chest to steady her own pounding heart and trying to act nonchalant. "I suppose that was another one of your demonstrations," she said coolly.

"Yeah …" Argider shook his head and began to laugh, softly at first, but soon building into a deep, rich sound that Quistis found infectious. The two of them continued for a few moments more, then, as their laughter died down, Argider spoke again. "That was a ridiculous coincidence. I guess I wasn't following my own advice."

"Clearly." A stray giggle bubbled up, and Quistis pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle it.

"But, damn, you are strong! Nearly pulled me back up single-handedly." Concern flashed across his face. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Of course not. Don't underestimate a SeeD woman." The storm-charged air and the laughter must have gone to her head, because she couldn't resist flexing a bicep to underscore her point.

Argider chuckled. "Duly noted."

Quistis sighed as they resumed their journey, noticing a pleasant, almost giddy, feeling spreading through her chest. She was actually disappointed when they turned a corner and the skyways came into view.

The city center was ablaze with light, and on the sections of skyway that had already been cleaned, people strolled and chatted, the storm, for them, already a distant memory. Argider accompanied Quistis just beyond the shopping mall. He gestured toward a branch of the skyway lined with restaurants and hotels.

"My destination's this way, so I suppose this is where we say good night," he said. "You know, despite the power outage—or maybe because of it—this turned out to be a pleasant evening. Thank you."

Quistis frowned. "For what?"

"For sharing it with me."

"I had a choice?" She gave him her slyest smile.

Argider seemed taken aback. "Well, no, not exactly," he stammered. "But you were pretty good at making the best of the situation, and—"

"And I enjoyed the evening, too." She crossed her arms and leaned forward, looking up at him. "I don't think I've ever seen you flustered before."

"I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"Yes, I'm sure that's it. In that case, you'd better hurry and find a place to rest."

They shared a smile and bid each other good night. As Quistis walked in the direction of her apartment, the giddy sensation intensified, breaking free of her ribcage and setting her insides aflutter. She had been unusually forward just now, her confidence drawn forth in response to Argider's uncharacteristic bumbling. Perhaps he really was just tired; perhaps they both were. Or, perhaps the storm had excited something in both of them, the fury of the wind and the lightning and the coolness of the rain acting as powerful intoxicants.

Whatever the reason, Quistis realized with only a sliver of dismay that she enjoyed this new dynamic between them. She wondered whether it was sustainable, or whether with a good rest and clear heads, both of them would retreat to their previously established relationship, so professional, so safe. However, as she entered her apartment and flicked on the light, she also wondered whether that was possible at all, or whether they'd unwittingly set a significant change into motion.

In a more rational mindset, Quistis would have scolded herself for even considering the possibilities that might arise from this evening. But tonight, she abandoned reason and allowed herself the luxury of imagining a life that was more than work, more than worry. A life worth looking forward to, worth sharing—someday, some distant day—with somebody else.

Out of habit, she opened her laptop and turned it on. She was surprised to see that the little clock in the corner read 22:43. She was even more surprised at the number of notifications that sprung up across the screen, most of them from Xu. The most recent one read, in all capital letters, "GIVING UP FOR TONIGHT. HAVE FUN, WHEREVER THE HELL YOU ARE."

Quistis giggled into her palm. She composed a short, only semi-apologetic note to Xu, hit the "Send" button, then powered down her laptop and settled back onto the couch, closing her eyes and letting her giggle become a full-blown laugh.

Back to Top

---

Chapter 5

"Angelo, no!" Rinoa's voice came through the speakers on Quistis' computer, but all Quistis could see in the communication window was Angelo's hairy snout. "I know you miss Quistis," Rinoa said, pulling Angelo toward her, "but she's not here right now. That's just a video call."

"I highly doubt Angelo understands anything you're telling her." Squall's voice came through from off-screen.

"You never know. Don't underestimate her."

As Rinoa and Squall discussed Angelo's theoretical comprehension skills, Selphie poked into view, a glittery party hat on her head, and tooted a cheap plastic horn.

"Happy birthday, Quisty!" she said. "Whoo-hoo!" She blew on the horn again, long and loud, until Squall shouted at her to stop.

"Oh my goodness, you remembered!" Quistis said. "Thank you so much!"

"Of course, we remembered." Rinoa rejoined the conversation, donning a party hat of her own. "Happy birthday! …Right, Squall?"

Quistis heard a mumbled approximation of the greeting and chuckled.

"So, how're you gonna celebrate?" Selphie asked. "Got any special plans?"

"What about cake?" Rinoa asked.  "There's a recipe for one—"

"Ms. Moogle's cake!"

"—in the cookbook. You haven't even used the cookbook yet, have you?"

"I have!" Quistis said in mock-defensiveness, smiling nonetheless. "I've used it a few times already, as a matter of fact." She had, but she'd only ventured to try what she determined were the simplest recipes in the book. Mostly vegetable dishes, because she felt confident that, even for someone with her inexperience, vegetables were impossible to mess up.

She'd proven otherwise on her first few attempts.

"Um, Quisty…" Selphie ventured, chewing on the mouthpiece of her horn, "Rinnie showed me a picture of that guy you're working with, and I've been meaning to ask you, does he really look that good in real life?"

Quistis' eyes widened.  That was an unexpected question.  She smiled and felt her cheeks grow warm as Argider's face came to mind.  "Well, yes," she admitted, "he is quite pleasant to look at."

"'Quite pleasant?'  Quisty, you're the queen of understatements!  That guy's almost as good-looking as Sir Laguna.  Almost.  And here you were keeping him to yourself!"

"I'm not 'keeping' anyone."

"Uh-huh.  Sure."  Selphie winked.  "And I'm sure you don't have a hot date for your birthday, either."

Quistis sighed.  Selphie was a miniature Retta, it seemed.  Should those two ever meet, she felt that they would get along instantly.

At Rinoa's urging, Selphie agreed to back off of the topic of Argider, and the conversation soon moved toward catching up on one another's news. Quistis told them how her research was progressing and how the weather was finally cooling down; Selphie gave an update on the restoration of Trabia Garden; and Rinoa mentioned that Squall was particularly grumpy because Xu and Cid were pressuring him into supervising the next SeeD field exam. Quistis tried to imagine him in the same position she'd been in three years ago, but found it impossible. She preemptively felt sorry for the students under his supervision.

After one more round of birthday wishes, Rinoa and Selphie said goodbye and ended the call.  Staring at the darkened communication window, Quistis thought about Selphie's ridiculous question and laughed. She did have plans for tonight, as it turned out. A very important date… with a textbook and a stack of old lab reports. No matter; that was why she was here, after all. Her spirits buoyed by her friends' well wishes, she cleared away the remains of her dinner and dove into her work.

⁂

"Found it!" Argider said, jabbing his finger into the page of a textbook. "Well, something like it, anyway." He picked up the book and walked to where Quistis sat working.

"It's not comprehensive," he apologized, "and it's a bit dated, but here's a decent table describing the effectiveness of different methods of introduction across several skills."

Quistis raised her eyebrows. "You kept looking?" she asked. "It's been almost a month since I asked about this. I just assumed it didn't exist."

Argider grinned, boyish and charming. "You give up too easily. If it exists, I'll find it."

"Don't let the success go to your head." Quistis smiled and took the book from him. Exchanges like these were becoming more common between them. Since the night of the storm, their relationship had undergone a subtle shift. Still professional, they had nonetheless relaxed around each other. Distant comfort gave way to familiarity, and clinical discussion was interspersed with playful banter. Argider's clumsiness that night humanized him in Quistis' mind, stripped away his accumulated knowledge and experience to reveal a person underneath, one capable of getting flustered, one as subject to the laws of physics as anyone else. And the surge of confidence she'd felt in the wake of this revelation was like a taste of a long-forgotten delicacy: heady, sweet, and terribly addictive.

She'd lost it once; there was no way she was letting it slip away again.

Quistis looked over the table and the accompanying text, chewing on the cap of her pen and frowning. "The biggest problem with blue magic research," she said finally, "is that you can't remove a skill once it's been learned. Once we know that one method works for a particular individual, there's no way of knowing whether the other methods would have been just as effective. Furthermore, I'm not sure I like the research method used here. According to the information, the skill-bearing item was administered in only one way to each individual, regardless of success."

Argider pulled out the chair next to her and sat down. "Go on."

"So if, for example, the raw ingestion method didn't confer its respective skill on the test subject, no attempt was made to discover whether another method might be effective. The levels of effectiveness seem pretty even across all methods, but considering that distillation concentrates the skill-bearing element and gives control over the amount administered, I thought I'd see a significant advantage represented here. What if it worked in cases where the other methods didn't, and vice versa? By not allowing those who failed to gain a skill the chance to try another method, there's no way to determine whether the cause is the individual's constitution or the method of introduction."

Argider slid the book over to himself and read through the section again. "You're right. This isn't the comparative chart you were looking for, after all." He sighed. "Looks like we're back to square one."

"Or two. The information isn't completely useless."

Argider was quiet for a moment, thinking. "How many skills did you say you've learned? Fifteen?"

"Sixteen."

"Right." He pointed at the chart. "There are twenty skills on this chart. Which ones haven't you learned?"

Quistis leaned over, running down the list with her pen. "Let's see... Ice Breath... Cutting Gale, Nullify, and... Maelstrom. I didn't even know we were capable of learning that one."

"Dead spirits weren't easy to come by, at least not before the Lunar Cry. Most blue mages have ignored Maelstrom for that reason."

"Why did you want to know which skills I haven't learned?"

Argider looked at her sideways, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. "Are you up for a little experiment?"

Experiment? Quistis' eyes widened and she leaned back to get a better view of his face, to judge whether he was being serious. He was. "I assume you want to see if I can learn a new skill through a distillate."

Argider nodded.

"What about the side effects?"

"As I've said before, we have very good guidelines to work from for most of the skills you mentioned. It's perfectly safe."

Quistis looked away, tapping the end of her pen against her thumb. She knew he was telling the truth, especially if the Estharian army trusted him to administer the items to their blue mages. Still, she couldn't shake the fear of the outside possibility she'd end up bedridden for months, plagued with terrible hallucinations. And then there was the idea of becoming a sort of lab rat... however...

"I'll do it," she said. As his expression brightened, she added, "On one condition."

"What's that?"

She pointed to the chart and asked him the question he'd asked her. He pointed to several skills—Level ? Death, Mighty Guard, Shockwave Pulsar—and the grin disappeared from his face.

"If you want me to try a new method of introduction, you're going to do so as well," Quistis said. "You know, for statistical accuracy."

Argider shrugged. "Fair enough. I may have a barrier or two lying around."

"Great! It shouldn't take long to process, and then perhaps we can take our respective items at the same time and see what happens?"

"Same time? Who'll run the battle simulator?"

"Is it that difficult to run? Couldn't Retta do it, and monitor our conditions while we're in there?  I'm sure she wouldn't mind a change of pace."

"True… This is a bold idea, you know that? But I can't deny it's intriguing."  He rose. "I'll go ask Retta."

Quistis watched him walk away, satisfied with herself for not blindly going along with his suggestion, though she knew he meant no harm. She was surprised, however, and grateful that he had agreed to her plan so quickly.

"Of course, I'll help!" Retta cried, loud enough for Quistis to hear her clearly in the back. "Why should you scientific types have all the fun?"

Argider returned, rolling back his sleeves. "It's all set, then," he said. "Retta has agreed to come back for a few hours after we close to monitor the experiment, which gives us plenty of time to prepare."

"Thank you," said Quistis.

Argider looked down, smiling and running a hand through his hair. "It's no problem," he said. "It just took me by surprise. Where did that boldness come from?"

"I've been known to have flashes of brilliance now and then."

"More often than you realize."

He'd said it quietly, and probably didn't intend for her to hear. But she had, and she watched as he stood there, lost in thought, desperate to know what those thoughts were. When he turned and caught her staring, she quickly looked back at the texts in front of her, wincing as she felt her ears go hot.

"Like I said, plenty of time to prepare." He retrieved the textbook from Quistis' table and took it back to his desk. "In the meantime, I think I'll keep looking for that elusive information you seek."

⁂

In order to properly compare and analyze the different academic approaches to the study of blue magic, it is important to understand the basic ideas underlying its foremost theories and hypotheses.

Relative Maturity Theory:  Developed by T. Ehren, this theory argues that the strength and efficacy of skill-bearing items varies based on the maturity of the creature from which the items are sourced. In some cases, the theory posits, different skills can be learned from the same kind of item depending on how mature the creature was when the item was obtained. The practical applications of this theory are still being researched.

Stable Effect Theory:  A counter-argument to the Relative Maturity Theory, the Stable Effect Theory, proposed by G. Merrin, argues that the skills learned from a specific kind of item remain the same regardless of the maturity of the creature from which the item was obtained. This theory is backed by copious research and is widely accepted. Proponents argue that the data on which the RMT is based is flawed and limited, and in each test case, other factors existed that may have contributed to the results. Replication of those results has occurred, but with very little frequency or consistency.

Natural Affinity Hypothesis:  Proposed by N. Fahit, this hypothesis suggests that the effectiveness of skill-bearing items and the strength of skills learned is directly related to individual elemental/magical affinity. For example, a blue mage with an affinity for fire-based spells would either be unable to learn an ice-based skill or learn one that is weak in comparison to other skills. This hypothesis is currently undergoing rigorous testing.

- F. Adler and A. Cato, "Blue Magic Theories and Hypotheses: A Practical Analysis of the Leading Intellectual Discourses in the Field", from Shifting Perspectives: Classic and New Views on Blue Magic Research, P. Mataraci, ed.

Barriers were relatively small items, especially considering their source. Each was an irregularly-shaped pane of light translucent material, about the size of a dinner plate. Quistis broke a chunk off of the one Argider handed her, then placed the piece in the mortar and began to grind it down.

Argider sat at the table in the laboratory, a paper cup full of water in front of him, and watched Quistis work. Retta sat next to him, straight-backed, attentive, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"You know," Argider said, "I don't mind processing the barrier for myself."

"But this is only fair," said Quistis, not looking up from her task. She pushed down hard with the pestle and continued working the item into dust. "I take an item you prepare, you take one I prepare."

Retta chuckled. "Uh-oh. Is the student becoming the teacher?"

"I hope not," Argider answered. "If she keeps this up, I might be out of a job."

"Oh, please," said Quistis, motioning for the cup of water. "Don't be so dramatic." She poured the powder into the cup, gave it a vigorous stir, and set it back down in front of Argider. "Drink up."

"Not until you do, too."

Quistis grabbed her own cup of water and held up a tiny, dark blue pill. In the field, she'd come across plenty of north winds, and, in the spirit of experimentation, she had even tried filing one down to see if it had any effect. Until she saw it listed in the books she'd found here, she assumed it simply did not confer any blue magic skill at all. She took the pill, then watched Argider finish his mixture. He set down the cup, made a face, and shook his head.

"I'll never understand how you did that sixteen times," he said.

"What now?'

"Now, we wait. Distillates usually begin to work in about twenty minutes to an hour. I assume processed items have the same time frame?"

"Yes."

As they waited for the items to take effect, Argider showed Retta around the testing chamber, explaining to her how the simulator worked and what to watch for on the conditions monitor. She settled in behind the console, examining the buttons and sliders and reading the notes Argider had left with her. Argider, meanwhile, untangled several brightly-colored wires and opened a box to remove a handful of medical electrodes. He fastened them to himself first: one on each temple, one on his chest, and, lifting his shirt for access, three more farther down his torso, along his ribs.

Even knowing that what he was doing was purely technical, even with Retta sitting six feet away, Quistis tensed when Argider reached out and brushed her hair aside to attach the first electrode, fighting a powerful urge to lean into his touch. She felt herself blush at the unbidden thought, and her color only deepened as he attached an electrode to her other temple. Then, without words or hesitation, he dropped the remaining electrodes in her palm and handed her a diagram showing their proper placement. He turned around, pretending to run a final check on the simulator and monitors to give her a bit of privacy.

As she finished, she felt the first effects of the pill. A dull ache began in her head, followed by a jolt of energy that made her stand straight and wince at its intensity. Ice Breath learned.

Minutes later, Argider weathered the effects of his item more subtly. He lowered his head into his hands, and a spasm of his shoulders signified the effect's completion. "One more thing," he said afterward, producing two small yellow stones that sparked and crackled with energy. Aura stones. He gave one to Quistis and she squeezed it in her palm, feeling its heat rushing through her arm, directly to her brain. Her heartbeat quickened, her pupils dilated, and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead. In this heightened state, she nearly swiped at Argider when he approached to attach the wires to the electrodes on her temples. He handed her the rest and turned away.

Retta took in the entire process through wide eyes, and at Argider's command, she pressed a button that opened the door to the simulator proper.

Inside, a hologram appeared, taking the shape of a Behemoth. Quistis readied her attack, but Argider motioned for her to wait. He dipped his head in concentration, then executed the Mighty Guard skill. Quistis felt the familiar tingle of support spells washing over her and gave him an approving grin. Returning her smile, Argider nodded at the hologram. It was time.

Quistis crossed her arms over her chest, looking down slightly, focusing her energies. She felt the skill stirring inside her, little flurries swirling in her chest, growing stronger, moving faster, until it felt like a blizzard was battering the inside of her ribcage, begging to be let out. She felt that energy swell, felt it rise, then opened her mouth to give it release.

The hologram flickered, but did not disappear. Argider gave her a thumbs-up, then asked if she would like to try again. She said yes, and he signaled to Retta through the door. Three repetitions later, she was done. The aura effect was wearing off and she suddenly felt very tired.

"I'd never seen a blue mage in action before," Retta said, coiling the wires that Quistis had detached from herself. "That was incredible!"

"Thank you," Quistis replied, unsure what else to say. She grimaced as she removed the final electrode, then inspected the strands of hair that remained stuck to it. "Learning a new skill is always interesting. I don't know whether it will work until I actually try to use it."

Argider studied the printouts from the monitor. "Everything looks normal here," he said. "Well, 'normal' for this situation. I have to admit, I had never considered reverting to older methods of introduction once the distillations failed me. From what I've heard for years, distillates are the be-all and end-all of skill-bearing items, because of their purity. But perhaps there's more to it than that."

"Individual and item compositions, most likely. The Natural Affinity Hypothesis posits that individual elemental affinities determine the efficacy of absorption and use of a skill, but that doesn't explain why some mages have trouble absorbing non-elemental and support skills. Maybe it's something as simple as a difference in how each individual internally processes an item. In some cases, perhaps the presence of organic matter helps absorption, whereas in other cases, it hinders it." Quistis sighed. "We'd need to collect more data before we can be sure of anything."

"Then why don't we?"

Quistis looked up. "From where?"

"I'm going to a government conference in a few days," Argider said. "There, I'll be able to contact the heads of the Estharian army directly. Let me see if I can persuade them to send us some blue mages for testing. It won't be a large sample, but it's still more than we have right now. Then, we'll be able to put this hypothesis of yours to work."

"Do you think they'll agree?"

He shrugged. "We'll never know until we try."

"And those who never try will never know."

"Huh?"

Quistis laughed. "Nothing, it's just a silly saying I once heard."

⁂

"While the cat's away the mice will play," Retta said in a singsong voice. "Or, rather, the mouse will daydream!"

Quistis tore her gaze from the window, where she'd been staring at nothing in particular, and noticed Retta smiling at her from the front desk.

"I'm sorry," she said, organizing the papers in front of her. "I just can't concentrate today. Maybe it's because I woke up earlier than I have been doing these past few months." She had agreed to work on Retta's shift today, while Argider attended his conference.

"Or perhaps it's the absence of the light of your research life," Retta offered with a wink.

Quistis chuckled. "No, that's not it. I work just fine at my apartment."

"Then take a break and come join me. I could use a bit of help processing these returns. Don't worry, I won't tell Argider."

Quistis accepted Retta's offer, sitting next to her and going through a pile of books, scanning each one in and placing it on a cart to be reshelved. She looked at the titles in passing: An Illustrated Introduction to the Laws of Physics, Para-Magic and You: A Beginner's Guide, Pillars of the Past: Excavating the Ruins of the Holy Dollet Empire, The Legend of Vascaroon. Quistis held onto the last book and stared at its title. She had heard this legend told by one of the White SeeDs while on their ship. At that point, she'd believed it was the remnants of an oral tradition, but here the story had been written down and annotated by the authors. She flipped through the book, stopping every now and then to read a random section.

Retta looked over. "Find something interesting?" she asked. "Oh, Vascaroon. That's one of our more popular books. Do you know the story?"

Quistis nodded. "I've heard it told. I just didn't think I'd run across it here."

"Oh yes, we have quite a collection of old texts. Most were hidden away during Adel's reign, not only to prevent her associates from deciding which we were allowed to read, but also to not give her any more ideas about her own power. We have origin stories, foundation myths, plenty of information on sorceresses and Hyne—"

"That's amazing," Quistis interrupted, thinking immediately of Rinoa. "I have a friend who is intensely interested in those subjects, and she visits Esthar regularly. Do you mind if I refer her to you?"

"Not at all. It would be nice to have someone to share this information with. I have to admit, watching you and Argider working together, I sometimes get a little jealous."

"You have an impressive collection. Did you help curate it?"

"Yes, but it wasn't something I'd ever imagined having the opportunity to do. Argider approached me not long after Dr. Vardan established this library and asked whether I would like to work here. He said he'd read some of my work during his university studies, and was impressed with my argument that scientific advancements cannot be separated from the culture in which they occurred, or even from the cultures they benefit, knowingly or not. He said that, in the spirit of that argument, he wanted to include a cultural and historical collection in the library to contextualize the scientific information already available, and he asked if I would be interested in curating it."

She paused and smiled at the memory. "I'm really very grateful to him. Not many in Esthar would waste their time on a non-scientific person like myself."

"Waste their time?" Quistis frowned. "You just told me your work had been used in a university course, and Argider has said you're one of the most intelligent people he's met. How could anyone consider you a waste of time?"

"Because Esthar worships science, and I really don't have a head for it." Retta put down the book she was checking in. "In a highly technological society, it's difficult to not have an aptitude for technology, or engineering, mathematics, hard science. But there I was, the little girl with her head in the clouds, always looking for some fantastic story to read, some legendary characters from our pasts. When I was six years old, Adel took power and deemed things like the arts and the social sciences unnecessary, even dangerous, in that they filled our heads with impractical dreams and contributed nothing to the Esthar war machine. I forced myself to learn communications technology and maintenance, because well, it's still about people talking to each other, right? Sharing stories, even if those stories are bland.

"That's why I'm grateful to Argider for giving me this chance." Retta smiled. "Working here, I'm useful again. I'm able to curate the works that I believe are important to our identities and our shared history. Works that are important in understanding the world that was, so that we can make the world we want in the future."

She took the book Quistis was holding and checked it in. "But now, story time's over," she said with a chuckle. "You've got work to do, and I don't want you using my conversation as an excuse not to do it!"

Quistis moved her materials to the back of the library in an attempt to focus, but it did little good. Retta's story joined the other thoughts swirling in her mind, and she was staring blankly at a textbook when Retta tapped on one of the shelves behind her. Quistis turned around.

"Quistis," Retta said, smiling, "you have a visitor."

Before Quistis could run through the list of people who even knew where she was, Retta stepped aside, and an orange cat trotted past her.

"Wilbur!" Quistis exclaimed. She'd seen Wilbur making deliveries in the neighborhood, but hadn't interacted with him until now. He sat down in front of her, facing away, waiting for her to remove the plastic tube attached to his harness. She did so, and slid out the note inside.

Quistis—

I don't believe you two have been properly introduced. Wilbur, Quistis. Quistis, Wilbur.

With that out of the way, please allow me to apologize again for not being available to work with you today. I'm still trapped in the conference at the Presidential Palace. I have, however, spoken with some military officials about blue mage testing, and their responses so far have been encouraging.

I will be free by this evening, and I would like to know if you'd care to join me then for a light meal. Nothing fancy, but just a chance for us to talk and enjoy some Estharian cuisine. After being surrounded by bureaucrats all day, goodness knows I'm in desperate need of some intelligent conversation.

Send your reply with Wilbur. He knows where to find me.

- Argider

He'd provided the name and address of the restaurant on a separate slip of paper. Quistis stared at the address, then reread the note, unsure how to interpret it. It sounded like a request for a dinner date, and she wondered how appropriate it would be for her to accept his invitation in that context. Then again, the language he used—"light meal", "nothing fancy"—suggested he had foreseen her interpretation and wanted to discourage the notion. She glanced down at Wilbur, as if the cat could offer her guidance, but he simply sat there and cleaned himself.

The giddy feeling she was becoming used to having in situations where Argider was involved returned, and filled her with a sense of confidence and adventure. She would go, she decided, but if he offered to pay for anything, she would decline and pay for it herself. That way, it couldn't possibly be a date, just a nice dinner with an associate. She scribbled her answer on the back of Argider's note, rolled the paper up and stuck it back in the tube, then attached the tube to Wilbur's harness.

"Here you go," she said softly. "He says you know where to find him."

She hoped she was doing the right thing.

Wilbur disappeared among the shelves, and Quistis heard Retta bid him farewell.

⁂

Argider's insistence on eschewing Estharian robes made him easy to locate, especially in the city center. He smiled when he saw Quistis, and met her in front of the restaurant's entrance.

"Thanks for coming," he said.

"I had half a mind to decline your invitation," Quistis admitted. "It sounded suspiciously like a request for a dinner date."

"Would that have been a bad thing?"

Quistis felt the blood rush to her cheeks. "Maybe. I'm not sure. But it would be awkward!"

Argider laughed. "Then this is definitely not a date. I asked if you'd consider meeting me here because I'd like to discuss some developments in regard to the project we're planning, and since I was already in the city center and neither of us have had dinner yet... I thought a change in the routine would be nice."

"That's not entirely convincing."

"Then the only alternative is the whole truth: I wanted to see you. I've spent all day shut in a room listening to people drone on about things that don't relate at all to what I do. I got ten minutes to present my quarterly report, request budget changes, and highlight potential issues, then it was back to sitting on the sidelines. I've never enjoyed going to these conferences, but I've never wanted to be back at the library as badly as I did today."

He looked her in the eyes as he said this, so open and sincere that it made her heart ache. She knew her face must be an unseemly shade of red at the moment, and she broke her gaze away just as her eyes began to fill with inexplicable tears. I wanted to see you. She couldn't recall an instance in which those words hadn't preceded some inane request, or, worse, a rebuke.

I wanted to see you, Cid said, to discuss what happened during today's field exam. According to reports from the other SeeDs and cadets present, Seifer decided to abandon his post and order his fellow cadets to go along. Once again, his gross insubordination has prevented him from realizing his full potential, but I think it reflects yours very clearly. You were hired to make cadets into SeeDs, to train this kind of behavior out of them. This is Seifer's fourth failed attempt, and as he is your student, I hold you accountable for not reforming his behavior. As a SeeD, you are outstanding, but as an instructor, you lack the leadership qualities necessary to retain your position. The faculty and I have conferred, and we have decided that your employment as an instructor will be terminated, effective at midnight. I'm sorry, Quistis. Please use the remaining hours to tie up any loose ends you may have, then report to my office tomorrow morning to receive your new orders.

"Hey." Argider's hand on her shoulder pulled her back to the present. He titled his head questioningly, concern in his eyes. "Are you okay?"

It took her a few seconds to get her bearings. Then, she blinked away the tears, shook off the memory, and sighed. "Yes, I am," she said, forcing a smile.

"We don't have to go in. Not if you don't feel comfortable."

"No, I'm fine." Something was changing. She could feel it. A shift somewhere deep in her consciousness, triggered by the contrast in the way Argider said he wanted to see her and the way everyone else had wanted to see her. So this was what it felt like to be a person, to be a complete person in relation to somebody else, not just a faceless resource. This difference, perhaps so small to others, kindled a tiny flame in her heart, one of confidence and rebellion, and she felt as if she was beginning to shed the shackles of Garden for good. She drew herself up, her smile genuine now, and stepped toward the restaurant's doors. "Shall we go in?"

The restaurant was a casual establishment, well-lit and crowded. Quistis and Argider were seated at a table by a window overlooking a small courtyard shared with neighboring businesses, and as she watched the bustle of people outside, Quistis started to relax. Argider began to talk about the research project, prefacing his announcement with details of the conference, but was interrupted when a waiter approached to take their orders. When the waiter finished scribbling down Argider's order and turned to Quistis, she immediately asked for her order to be placed on a separate check.

"You don't have to do that," Argider protested.

"I'd feel like I'm taking advantage of your hospitality otherwise," she explained.

"It's really no trouble."

"Argider, you were never perfectly clear about the exact nature of this evening. If I let you pay for my dinner, then this does become a date."

Argider gaped at her for a moment, then smiled and shook his head.

The waiter seemed confused. "So, will that be one check or two?" he asked.

"Two," Quistis and Argider answered in unison, then began to laugh.

"So," Quistis said, after their laughter subsided, "you were going to tell me what the military officials said in response to your request for test subjects."

"It wasn't an outright yes—they aren't able to give permission for something like this offhand. However, the officers I spoke to today expressed interest in the project, which I interpreted as encouragement to begin the process."

"Process?"

"We'll have to draft a proposal and submit it through the proper channels. Then, if the proposal is accepted, the military will draw up a contract outlining the conditions under which we may proceed with our research. Once all terms are agreed upon, they will provide our test subjects."

"It sounds like a lengthy process."

Argider sighed. "It is. However, I may be able to pull some strings to expedite it, and get this project started before your sabbatical ends. We have what, three months, and a few weeks?"

"Yes."

"All right, I'll speak to Kiros, see if we can set up a meeting with the Estharian army. I'll try to shoot for getting everything ready by the beginning of next month."

"Thank you."

Argider held up his hands. "Hey, I can't make any promises. This might fail spectacularly, and we won't get clearance until next year."

"Regardless of the outcome, you're trying. I appreciate it." She smiled at him, and another feeling stirred inside her. It was similar to the one she'd had when leaving Balamb, but the flow of energy seemed different; leaving home had felt draining, but this new sensation was quite the opposite, a gentle warmth that filled the holes in her spirit, sanded the rough edges of failure and cushioned the weight of loneliness. Whatever this evening was, she was glad she had accepted Argider's invitation.

The "official" reason for the dinner having been exhausted even before the food arrived, Argider and Quistis moved the conversation to more general topics: Esthar, the library, each other.

"I was speaking with Retta today," Quistis said between bites of food, "and she told me that you personally recruited her to work at the library. Why didn't you mention that before?"

"I didn't think it was relevant information," Argider answered. "I'd rather Retta's accomplishments stand on their own."

"She said you'd remembered her name from something you'd read at the university."

Argider nodded. "I took a course in Estharian cultural history while I was at the university and I remember reading an article that stood out to me. It argued for the value of the humanities, and explained how scientific advancement cannot have meaning in a sociocultural vacuum. It made me think, especially of the history of my particular skill and what it meant to people so long ago, how it was regarded as the power of a god... and how it's become so clinical and mundane now. I guess I wanted it to have that extra meaning again, something special."

He laughed. "Dr. Vardan used to tell me I was a romantic, in that sense, and if there ever was a major point of contention between us, it was about my tendency to ascribe meanings to phenomena beyond what the objective data revealed. Over the years, I've learned to rein that tendency in.

"Anyway, I managed to convince Dr. Vardan to include a cultural and historical section in the library, not on the grounds of providing context to the scientific information, but on the grounds that it would attract more visitors. When he approved my idea, my first thought was to contact Retta. Aside from teaching courses at the university every now and then, she had no other work, and so she accepted my offer."

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" Quistis teased.

"I'm sure you have a few of your own," Argider answered, leaning forward and dropping his voice nearly to a whisper. "I imagine there are plenty of things you're 'not at liberty to share,' am I right?"

"You're awfully nosy."

"I prefer the term 'curious.'"

"As a cat."

"Look who's talking." They shared another laugh. "Speaking of cats," Argider continued, "I hope you enjoyed your little reunion today."

"Of course! It was delightful and unexpected. I've seen Wilbur coming and going from deliveries, but you were right, we hadn't been properly introduced yet.  He's a very diligent worker."

"Sounds like someone else I know.  Someone I should thank for being so committed, for making my job pretty darn easy, and for not being afraid to bring her own perspective to her work."

Quistis' eyes widened.  "Wow, she sounds impressive."

"Oh, she is."  Argider flagged down the waiter for their bills and cast her a sidelong grin.  "Believe me, she is."

The evening air had a chill edge, and Quistis shivered as she stepped out of the restaurant. She pulled down the sleeves of her blouse and rubbed her arms. She thanked Argider for his invitation, and as they bid each other good night, he placed his hand on her shoulder again.

It was a friendly gesture, but now that she was not absorbed in thoughts of frustration and resentment, Quistis was cognizant of his warmth, of the dormant strength transformed into a gentle weight. This time, she leaned into his touch, ever so slightly, and he gave her shoulder a light squeeze.

"I'm glad you decided to join me this evening," he said.

She nodded. "Me too."

"So, about this new project… tomorrow morning, I'll go ahead and see if I can set up that meeting with the army officials, and then we can get started drafting a proposal. Does that sound all right?"

"It sounds perfect."

"Great.  Good night."

Even after they parted, the warmth of his hand lingered, seeping inward from Quistis' shoulder straight to her heart, setting into motion the multitude of tiny fluttering things that seemed to have taken up residence inside her chest. The sensation persisted even after she reached her apartment and turned on her computer to read through the usual messages from Xu, and subsided only when she noticed an urgent request to call Garden.

"I thought you said you were getting out early today," Xu said without preamble the moment the connection had completed.

"I did, but I stopped for dinner on the way back to the apartment." Quistis was beginning to tire of accounting for her time.

"For two hours?"

"The restaurant was crowded." She couldn't help but grin at the memory of her evening, a detail Xu did not miss.

"What's going on over there? You look a little giddy—a little tipsy." Xu's eyes widened. "Quistis, are you drunk?"

"Of course not!" The accusation snapped Quistis back to reality. "I got a message saying you needed to speak to me right away. What's happening at Garden?"

"If you had been available at the time you said you'd be, you would know by now. Garden is fine, but Cid needs to speak with you immediately. Something about the last update you sent him. He didn't seem very happy with it."

Quistis frowned, recalling the most recent portion of the curriculum she submitted. It dealt with the various methods of introduction, and she couldn't imagine what problem he could find with it. "Did he tell you anything?"

"Just to get a hold of you. He said he's going to be in his office early tomorrow, and that he would like to speak to you before you leave for the library." Xu sighed. "I don't know what you're doing over there, but I worry that you might be losing sight of your goal."

"I'm not. In fact, I can see it clearer than ever." The fire that had sparked inside her that evening began to burn brighter. Cid had taken something important away from her before, and she was not going to let him do it again. She set her jaw and leveled her glare at the camera. "Tell Cid to expect my call in the morning. I'm looking forward to discussing the matter with him."

"You must be drunk," Xu muttered, but agreed to pass the message along. "Good luck, Quistis, and please, take care."

Back to Top

---

Chapter 6

Quistis did not sleep well. She spent the rest of the evening pulling up every file she had sent Cid, going over each one line-by-line, taking notes on anything she thought the headmaster might take issue with and preparing an argument for its inclusion. Even as she lay in bed, she continued to run through the materials in her head, and she got up more than once to add to her notes. Somewhere amid this mess of frustration and self-doubt, she fell asleep.

She woke to her alarm, feeling as if she'd only drifted off minutes before. She gathered her notes, made sure she looked professional, and turned on her computer. She hesitated placing the call to Garden, and she decided at the last minute to send a message to Argider, explaining the situation and letting him know she might be late to the library. Then, her excuses exhausted, she took a deep breath and made the call.

Cid appeared in the communications window, frowning, his hands folded on his desk. "Good morning, Quistis," he said. "I am sorry I couldn't get in touch with you yesterday."

"Good morning, sir," Quistis replied, but she did not apologize for being unavailable.

"I wanted to speak to you regarding the portions of the curriculum you have been sending me. They are very well-written, and your research is impressive. However, the content seems to be deviating from the outline you submitted for my approval."

"Yes, it has. I drafted that outline based on the information I had available at the time. Namely, the extent of knowledge covered in the books I had borrowed from the library here. But in the process of conducting research for that outline, I have discovered much more information that I believe is invaluable to the development of blue mages at Garden."

"So you have. But did you not stop to consider whether all of that information might be too much for one course?" Cid picked up a stack of papers. The curriculum notes, Quistis assumed. "For example, this section here, 'The Historical and Cultural Context of Blue Magic.' While this information is very interesting indeed, it has no practical application in a blue mage's education. It makes no difference whether they know that people once assumed their power to be that of a god; their job is to use their skill to exterminate the enemy and complete missions."

"If you were dissatisfied with that section, why didn't you let me know before?"

"Because I had faith that you would correct yourself. But this last portion you submitted to me, all full of impractical applications and vague theories, is boring at best, confusing at worst. Blue mages at Balamb Garden only have a few ways of learning skills; they don't need to know any more, and they definitely don't need to waste valuable time and energy debating theories."

Quistis bit her lip, thankful that Cid couldn't see her clench her fists beneath the table. "It isn't a waste of time to understand how one's skill fits into society at large. This kind of information gives mages context, an anchor in the world around them, so they might not feel alone. Isn't one of Garden's goals to produce well-rounded citizens as well as properly-trained mercenaries?"

"Yes, it is," Cid admitted. "But knowing who said what about arcane knowledge is hardly relevant to becoming a functioning citizen. No one wants to hear about those things, perhaps not even the blue mages themselves."

"And you'd make that decision for them? If the mages don't want to hear it, let them tell me themselves."

"Tell you? Why would they—"

"Furthermore, you once said that you wanted your students to think for themselves, that you didn't want them to become machines."

"When did I—"

"I overheard you say those words to Seifer after his final failed exam, before you put the blame of his failure on me. You seemed undecided on whether to punish him, because you seemed to admire his independence—his rebelliousness—even when it jeopardized the entire mission." Quistis smirked. "Or does that sentiment apply only to Seifer? Don't think I didn't see the favoritism—"

"That is enough!" Cid slammed his palms onto his desk, half-rising from his chair. "You dare to speak to me that way? You are treading a very dangerous line here, Trepe. I could call your little outburst insubordination. I could cut off funding for your little venture right now and order you on the next flight back to Balamb." He sat down and adjusted his glasses. "But I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you're stressed, maybe you're tired. You were out until all hours last night, I've heard."

"I got in at 20:30!" Her arrival at the apartment was the most useless point to argue in this context, but Quistis felt that Cid saw it as a reason to question her industriousness, her character. Beneath the table, her hands began to shake, but she set her jaw and maintained her composure.

"No matter. This whole disagreement is far beside the point I originally hoped to make. I've taken issue with the content of your submissions for a more practical reason: without all of the resources you have at your fingertips, how is anyone expected to understand enough of this to actually teach it?"

"I've included a very detailed bibliography with each segment, as well as extensive footnotes. I can obtain copies of the relevant chapters and sections from textbooks and reports to submit to you for distribution to the prospective instructor."

"That assumes the instructor is willing to put in the extra work. Teaching a course, especially an introductory course, shouldn't require such extensive preparation."

"Because you would need to compensate them for the extra time they spent preparing, correct?"

Cid glared at her. "That's part of the reason. The other is, where would I find an instructor patient enough to go through the tomes of supplemental material you're threatening to send me?"

Quistis frowned, but when she realized she had an opening, she softened her expression. "You have one," she said.

"What?"

"I can teach the course. I can always reapply for my instructor's license, and I am very familiar with the information I'm including in the curriculum."

Cid snorted. "You? Have you already forgotten that I personally dismissed you from your original position?"

"But that was for lack of leadership on the battlefield, sir." The words tasted sour as she spoke them. "This course is strictly classroom-based."

"I can't stop you from reapplying for your license, but I cannot guarantee that Balamb Garden will have any position available for you. You have failed us once, Quistis, please don't do so again." He tapped the stack of papers in front of him. "I want to see a streamlined, beginner-friendly version of the most recent section of this curriculum at the time of your next scheduled progress report. Failure to provide the requested material will result in the immediate termination of your sabbatical. Have a good day, Miss Trepe."

Before Quistis could say anymore, Cid reached out with one stubby finger and disconnected the call.

"Dammit!" Quistis shouted, slamming her laptop closed. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" She shoved a stack of books off the table, slammed her fist onto the tabletop. She covered her face and let out a long scream of frustration, punctuated by some choice curse words, then slumped back in her chair and sighed.

The doubts crept in, slowly and quietly. Cid was right, Quistis admitted; the material she'd gathered probably was too much for one course. But Garden wasn't going to incorporate it right away; she would've had time to edit it down, maybe even develop several courses from the information she'd accumulated, right there where Cid could immediately review things to his liking.

Maybe she'd gotten defensive, maybe she'd pushed too far. She was getting used to being independent, to pursuing her curiosity as far as it would take her. She'd forgotten how much power Cid still had over her life, and how much of that life she still owed to Garden.

She opened her computer and turned it on to make sure she hadn't damaged it. She picked up the books on the floor and fixed her hair by her reflection in the computer screen. She would have to tell Argider to cancel their plans for a research project, or, in a more charitable gesture, turn the project over to him. There was no way she would have time to devote to new research now. She closed her eyes against the sting of tears, gritting her teeth and forcing herself not to cry.

She walked to the lift station, defeated.

⁂

"Good morning," Retta chirped as Quistis walked into the library, only twenty minutes later than usual. "Thank you for your help yesterday."

"You're welcome." Quistis gave a half-hearted smile, ignoring Retta's inquisitive look as she made her way to the back. Argider looked up from his desk and grinned.

"Oh, Quistis, I hadn't expected you so early. When I saw your message, I assumed you wouldn't get here until the afternoon."

"The conversation with my boss didn't take as long as I thought it would."

"Boss? I don't think I've ever heard you refer to the headmaster like that before."

"He is my boss, isn't he? And what he says goes." Quistis sat down and opened her laptop.

"Is something the matter?" Argider asked. "You seem upset. Does this have anything to do with yesterday evening?"

"No."

"I didn't make you uncomfortable, did I?"

"I said it didn't have anything to do with last night," Quistis snapped. "Contrary to what you might've been told your whole life, the world doesn't revolve around you. There are plenty of other things a person can be upset about."

"Whoa. All right, then." Argider turned back to his computer.

"I'm sorry," Quistis groaned, rubbing her temples. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm just a little… preoccupied right now." She couldn't find the courage to tell him that the project he'd so eagerly anticipated the evening before was not going to happen.

"Don't worry about it. It happens to all of us, after all." He brightened. "Hey, do you have a minute to come up to the lab with me? I want to get you familiarized with its operation before we put together the proposal for the project. I've scheduled a phone conference with Kiros and an Estharian army general for this afternoon."

"So soon?" Quistis rose and followed him, thankful for the relative privacy of the second floor, where she could explain why she had to abandon the project. Once upstairs, Argider walked toward the lab, but did not open the door. Instead, he turned around, hands in his pockets, and looked at her.

"All right," he said, "what's going on? You're more than just preoccupied right now. You don't have to give me details, but I want to know if there's anything Retta or I can do to help."

Quistis avoided his eyes. "I… can't work on the project."

"What? Why not?"

Quistis told him about Cid's new demands. He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Now I know why you started calling him your 'boss,'" he said. "People like him love to give ridiculous orders, but I don't think they even understand what they're saying half the time. Is there any way you can work around it?"

"No. It's going to take up all my time. If I can't deliver a revised curriculum by the next time I'm scheduled to send in work, Cid will terminate my sabbatical."

Argider frowned. "That seems harsh.  You've been working hard here.  I can vouch for you.  Perhaps you got a little carried away, but I'm also to blame for that, because I did, too.  It was my job to keep you on track, but I so got swept up in the questions you were asking and the new perspective you brought to the study that I wandered right off-course with you.  Maybe I should talk to Mr. Kramer and explain the situation."

"I appreciate the gesture, but I doubt it would help.  SeeDs are supposed to have self-discipline, regardless of supervision.  In Garden's eyes, this is entirely a failure on my part."

Argider's expression shifted to mild horror.  "That is incredibly screwed up," he said, then sighed. "Haven't you ever considered leaving Garden?"

Quistis shook her head. The thought had really never crossed her mind.

Argider continued. "It makes no sense that someone like you—someone so bright, so strong, so independent—should have to answer to someone whose biggest concern is how to make the most money off of child soldiers."

Quistis bristled. Rationally, she knew he was praising her, but right now it sounded like another criticism of how she lived her life. "It makes more sense than you realize," she said coldly. "I am indebted to Garden."

"Indebted?"

"Everything I have is because of them."

"Really? Wow, I guess if even you couldn't resist their brainwashing, they must be pretty effective."

"It's the truth."

"Is it?"  He took a step toward her, spreading out his hands.  "What in the world did you do to end up at their mercy? How could you even consider going to them for help in the first place?"

"I didn't have a choice! I was given up!"

Argider stared at her, silent. Quistis turned away. A suite of memories, long suppressed by the use of Guardian Forces and only recently resurfaced, came to the fore once again. They flooded her mind and rushed into her mouth, bitter and vile, and she had no choice but to spit them out.

"My family was killed during the Second Sorceress War," she began in monotone. "I was sent to an orphanage and adopted out when I was about five years old. The couple that adopted me was one of means, and I think they chose me specifically because I fit their image of the perfect little girl. They wanted me to dance, to play the flute and the piano, to be quiet and polite and not speak unless I was spoken to. They hated that I liked to read, and that I had so many questions. They hated even more that I was no good at what they wanted me to be. So, when I was ten, they decided they'd had enough. They took me to Garden. They gave me up.

"At Garden, I swore I'd be the perfect girl I couldn't be before, so that maybe they wouldn't give me up, too. I studied hard, I took the SeeD exam at my very first opportunity, and I passed. I became Garden's youngest instructor at seventeen. Then, a year later, I lost it all. One of my students went rogue during the field exam and took his classmates along. I was blamed for his actions, even though I had no way of monitoring him at the moment he made his decision. It was decided that such a disobedient student could only be the result of an incompetent instructor. As far as Garden was concerned, I'd failed them even more than my student had.

"And that's when they gave up on me, too."

Argider said nothing, and Quistis couldn't blame him. The whole story had just come tumbling out of her, and it was nothing anyone wanted to hear. She could not have known, when Irvine triggered her memories of the orphanage three years ago, just how deep her other suppressed memories ran, how painful and fresh their wounds would feel.

Some days, it was too much. Some days, she'd go into Squall's office and beg to be sent on a mission, any mission, just to have a chance to junction again and bury those memories, even for a little bit, to reclaim a moment's peace. Squall would always deny the request for dispatch, but in merciful solidarity, he would provide her with a document to procure a GF for "training purposes." He, too, understood the agony of too many memories resurfacing at once.

It was something that Argider could never understand. And maybe that was what hurt Quistis the most. She blinked back tears, determined not to cry in front of him. She set her jaw and glanced at him, noticing that he'd been watching her the whole time.

She waved the memories away and dropped her gaze to the floor. "I shouldn't have told you all this," she said. "What are you supposed to say about other people's problems, anyway?"

"I'm sorry," Argider said softly. "I'm so sorry about what you've been through. I'm sorry that you've had to bear so much pain. And I'm especially sorry that you feel that no one cares." He closed the distance between them and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I can't see the future, so I can't say it'll get easier, I can't even say the worst is behind you. But I can say that the people who gave up on you are wrong."

Quistis' eyes widened at his response, letting loose the tears she'd been holding back.

"I can say with absolute certainty that there is so much more to you than what those people deemed a failure," Argider continued. "I've seen it. So, please, even if you can't forget the pain, don't let it define you anymore. Don't give those bastards the satisfaction of keeping you down."

Quistis was trembling now. She leaned against the window ledge and brought her hands to her mouth to try to stifle a sob. She didn't succeed, and once the first one was out, others followed, loud and painful, feeling as though they were being torn from her heart. Her legs weakened beneath her and she crumpled toward the floor, but Argider caught her arm and led her toward the lab. He unlocked the door and turned on the lights, then helped her onto one of the high stools. She tried to stop crying, ashamed of how she must look, but the sobs found their way out. Argider sat quietly beside her, resting a reassuring hand on her back, as she finally released years of frustration and hurt.

When she was spent, her face a swollen mess, she laid her head on the table in front of her and mumbled an apology.

"There's no need to apologize," Argider said. "You've obviously been under a lot of stress, and what happened this morning must've been the last straw. Do you need me to get you anything? Tissues, water?"

"No, thank you." Quistis raised her head. "I'll go clean myself up."

Staring at her reflection in the restroom mirror, her features still puffy and red even after multiple splashes of cold water, Quistis berated herself for her outsized reaction. She wasn't usually given to tears; she preferred to keep her strongest feelings inside, where they could be controlled, hidden away. And now she'd not only blurted out her pathetic story to Argider, but she'd also practically dissolved right in front of him. She wondered how he must see her now—she was definitely not the strong, mature, curiosity-driven researcher he'd thought she was. Beneath that façade, she was a weak, unstable little girl, one so desperate for kindness that she fell apart at the slightest hint of it.

When she returned to the laboratory, she noticed that Argider hadn't moved from his seat, and now he stared into the distance, thinking. He turned toward her as she entered and asked whether she would like to take the rest of the day off. Quistis thought about her silent apartment, the books stacked haphazardly on her table, the resentment of this morning's discussion still hanging in the air, and declined.

"In that case," he said. "Feel free to rest here for a while. I've got to head back downstairs to get some work done and prepare for the conference call."

"Oh. The call.  So, the project is still on, then?" Quistis asked. In her emotional distress, she'd forgotten to make the magnanimous gesture of turning the project over to him. Luckily for her, he was self-centered enough to take it for himself.

"Of course."

She tried to smile. "Good luck with it, then. I hope the information you find is useful."

"What are you saying?" He frowned. "I'm keeping the conference appointment so that you can go ahead with the project."

"I told you, it's impossible."

"Haven't I mentioned something to you about giving up too easily?"

"Yes, that I do it."

"Exactly. There might be a way to salvage the project and meet your boss' demands. Let me see if I can't figure something out." He rose and walked to the door. "Just give me until the end of the day. Then, if there's no solution in sight, we can talk about abandoning the project."

Quistis watched the door shut behind him. She admired his confidence, even if it was ridiculous and ill-placed. In the cool quiet of the laboratory, her agitation faded away, and tiredness began to overtake her. A short nap didn't seem like a bad idea. She rested her head on her arms and closed her eyes.

Just for a few minutes…

She woke to someone shaking her shoulder, and opened her eyes to Retta's smiling face.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Retta teased. "You're going to miss lunch, and that won't do!" She placed a takeout container, still steaming, on the table in front of Quistis. "This might not be the ideal place to eat," she continued, wiping the table with her finger to check for dust and residue, "but I don't think we'll end up getting poisoned."

Still feeling as if her head was stuffed with cotton, Quistis sat up and accepted a plastic fork from Retta.

"Argider told me what happened with your boss," Retta said, opening her own container. "So, if I understand him correctly, your boss wants you to revise your curriculum within the next two weeks?"

Quistis nodded, swallowing a mouthful of food. "It's just the latest segment right now," she said. "But I'm sure he'll want me to go back and do the same with the others. He said they were too detailed for an introductory course.  For the prospective instructor, specifically."

"Ah, yes, introductory courses. I had to develop a few of those when I taught at the university. Sometimes, I think they're the hardest to plan. You're well-versed in the material, so you can't always see where the students are coming from. There's a lot of hand-holding involved."

"Exactly!"

Retta grinned. "You know what helped me? I'd think of my intro students as baby birds. They've hatched, and they're demanding, but you can't just boot them from the nest right away. You've got to wait until they've grown their feathers, learned how to use their wings. It's your job to help them do that."

"So, basically, you become a mother bird?"

"That's a perfect analogy. As the instructor, you've taken in plenty of new information, but before any of your knowledge can help your students, you have to break it down, then regurgitate it in easily digestible bits."

Quistis wrinkled her nose and laughed. "Oh, my goodness, that's a vivid analogy!"

"But it fits, no?" The two ate in silence for a while. "Argider also mentioned that you're considering abandoning your research project."

"Revising the curriculum will take all my time." Quistis set down her food. "I don't even know where to start."

"That's because you're too deep into the research." Retta turned to face Quistis directly. "How would you like a little help?"

"Help?"

"I'd be happy to help you. I know next to nothing about the intricacies of blue magic, so I'm pretty much on the same level as an intro student. However, I have experience developing curricula, so I can offer some pointers in course structure as well. What do you say?"

"I wouldn't want to burden you with my problems."

"It's no burden at all. Just give me a copy of the curriculum as it stands now. I can read it during lulls in my work, and in the evenings at home. I'll make notes and then I'll consult you, and you can adjust the course accordingly." Retta shrugged. "That way, you can use your time here to work on your research with Argider."

Quistis looked down and picked at her food, dangerously close to tears again. "I can't ask you to do that," she said. "It's my job."

"I'm not going to rewrite the thing for you. I'll just point you in the right direction. Think of me as an editor. Any author worth their ink has one, and no one argues that the finished product isn't still theirs."

"As long as you're all right with it," Quistis said, "I'd appreciate your help. Thank you, Retta."

"You're very welcome. Now, finish your food before it gets cold."

⁂

The next week and a half flew past. Argider received permission to go ahead with the research project, and on an expedited schedule to fit into the remainder of Quistis' sabbatical. The military, Argider said, was all too happy to receive new and possibly revolutionary information on blue mage training, especially when it came at no expense to them, since the project was Quistis' personal undertaking. Their only condition was that Quistis submit a proposal by the end of the following week.

So, Quistis found herself switching between two objectives. During the day, while Retta read and critiqued Quistis' curriculum in between her normal library duties, Quistis familiarized herself with the laboratory equipment and procedures, and pored over manuscript style manuals to prepare her proposal. At night, she looked over Retta's notes and made the necessary adjustments to her curriculum. She submitted both the revised curriculum and the proposal on the same morning.

Cid's reply came the next day, thanking her for the revisions, and, predictably, requesting that she revise the previous two sections of the curriculum, as well, albeit on a more forgiving schedule. Keeping Retta's advice in mind, Quistis decided to revise these herself; meanwhile, for fear of falling into the same predicament again, she used her idle time at the library to research and begin drafting the final section of her curriculum.

She told herself there was nothing wrong with the pace at which she worked, even as she fought to stay awake and the words blurred in front of her. She removed her glasses and pressed her palms against her tired eyes.

"You know, it's okay to take a break," Argider said, setting aside the paperwork he was going through.

"No, it's not," Quistis answered, resuming her task, flipping through books and furiously scribbling down notes. "There's work to do. Besides, I was quite used to working at this pace until a few years ago." She jotted down a phrase on her notepad and tore off the sheet. "Do you know where I might find items pertaining to this?"

Argider walked over and took the paper from her, but didn't move toward the shelves or his computer. "You're going to burn yourself out."

"I'm not. I admit, it was irresponsible of me to take on another large project before finishing the first, but I'll be okay. I'm responsible for my irresponsibility."

"I'm slightly disturbed that I actually understood that. Nevertheless, perhaps you should set this aside for a while and work on preparations in the lab, instead."

"What for? I've already learned how the necessary equipment works, how to run the simulator and prepare the subjects for testing. What other reason do I have to go there at the moment?"

"To get away from this." He pulled the book out from under her nose.

"Hey!" She stood up and tried to take it back, but he held it just out of her reach.

"Listen, I know you have to meet your obligations to Garden. But taking a day or two away from them won't hurt. I don't want you to be an overworked wreck by the time you begin the experiment."

"I'm fine. I know my limits."

"You sound like a drunkard."

Quistis scowled at him, trying to find a suitable retort. But his statement made a strange kind of sense. "Maybe I am, in a way," she conceded. "Productivity is addictive."

"Then it's my duty as your friend to intervene."

"Friend?"

"Fine, advisor, colleague, whatever." Quistis saw one corner of his mouth turn up. He was enjoying this! Maybe there was an amusing element to it, and it certainly had woken her up, but she had her pride. She couldn't back down.

She took a step toward him and held out her hand. "The book, please."

"You really are serious about running yourself into the ground."

"The book."

"You're very stubborn. Has anyone ever told you that?"

It was her turn to smile. She tilted her head back to look him in the eyes. "I prefer the term 'tenacious,'" she said. "And yes, I've been told that it's one of my better qualities."

"Really? By whom?"

"Give me the book."

"Argider, this package ca— " Retta walked through the shelves, carrying a large envelope, but stopped short when she saw Quistis and Argider standing there grinning at one another. "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt anything," she said in a sly tone.

"No, I'm glad you're here, Retta," said Argider, not taking his eyes off Quistis. "Perhaps you can talk some sense into Ms. Trepe." He explained what their exchange had been about.

"I think Quistis' approach is a very prudent one," she said.

"Ha!" Quistis snatched the book from Argider's hand, then quickly sat down again.

"But Argider has a point," Retta continued. "You have to consider your well-being. What good is it to work so hard if you become too ill to finish anything?"

"Mm-hmm," Quistis murmured, pretending to be absorbed in what she was reading. She could practically feel Argider smirking at her.

"Anyway, before I got roped into playing mediator," said Retta, "I came back here to give you this. The courier just brought it. It's from the Department of the Military, so it's either the contract you've been waiting for, or orders for Argider to reenlist."

"Well, I do cut a dashing figure in a uniform," Argider quipped, taking the envelope from Retta and opening it. He glanced over the cover letter, then sat down beside Quistis and began reading the contract aloud, clarifying jargon as he encountered it. When he finished, he slid it over to her.

"There you have it," he said. "They've approved your proposal, and are able to supply the test subjects at the beginning of next week, for a period of two weeks, four days a week. What do you say?"

Quistis stared at him, then at the contract. She went over it, page by page, biting her lip to stifle the giggle that threatened to come out, drawn forth by the thrill of accomplishment. They'd approved her proposal. The project was really going to happen. She reached for a pen and signed on the line above her name.

"It sounds good to me," she said, handing the pen to Argider so that he could add his own signature, as supervising party. Then, he turned to her and extended his hand.

"Congratulations," he said. "You're now officially a scientist."

Quistis thanked him and shook his hand. Retta, who'd been watching in silence, now gushed forth congratulations for Quistis.

Quistis thanked Retta, then flipped back through the contract. "Twenty mages," she said with a sigh. "That'll require a lot of processed items."

"Don't tell me you're getting intimidated," Argider said.

She looked him straight in the eyes. "Never."

Back to Top

---

Chapter 7

When Quistis entered the library on the first day of the experiments, Retta looked up from the book she was processing for a patron and grinned. "Ah, the esteemed researcher arrives," she said, then gestured toward the back of the building. "Your subjects await."

"Already?" Quistis asked, excusing herself to the patron.

"Don't worry. Argider got here a little while ago and corralled them into the laboratory."

Quistis thanked Retta and hurried to the stairs, hearing Retta explain herself to the patron as she did so.

Argider was leaning against a table, arms crossed, having a lively conversation with the other blue mages in the laboratory when Quistis arrived. He smiled at her and straightened.

"And here she is," he said. "Ms. Quistis Trepe, the lead researcher on this project. She'll be administering the various skill-bearing items to you and putting you all through your paces. Please cooperate with her to your fullest extent."

As a unit, the twenty blue mages assembled in the laboratory stood and saluted. Quistis raised her eyebrows and glanced at Argider, but he shrugged and shook his head to indicate that this was not his idea. Quistis turned back to the mages.

"Good morning," she said. The mages stood at ease. "I apologize for being a few minutes late. Perhaps Argider has already explained the scope and purpose of this experiment to you?"

"Nope," Argider said. "You're the lead researcher. It's your show from here on. I'm just here in a supervisory capacity, to make sure nothing gets blown up, and—" he hiked an eyebrow—"to make sure none of these fine young men—or women—get any ideas." A nervous titter rippled through the group.

Quistis took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders, trying to envision herself at the front of a Garden classroom once again. "Well, in that case, allow me to explain. As I conducted research for a separate project, it came to my attention that there was no readily available information comparing the efficacy of various methods of introduction of skill-bearing items across all known blue magic skills. As far as I could find, the experiments detailed in the texts available to me simply tested whether one particular method of introduction worked for each individual test subject. Since all of you are Estharian, I assume that the only method of introduction you have been offered has been the ingestion of distillates, am I correct?"

The mages nodded.

"And in some cases, those distillates did not teach you the corresponding skill, also correct?"

They nodded again.

"The purpose of this experiment is to fill in the gaps in your skill sets via alternative methods of introduction." She nodded to Argider, who handed a stack of papers to the mage in the far corner and instructed him to take one and pass on the others. "You are now receiving a short survey listing the twenty most common blue magic skills. Please indicate which skills you have learned, which you failed to absorb through a distillate, and which you have yet to attempt to learn. This will help me sort you into appropriate groups, and help the experiment to proceed smoothly."

From the completed surveys, Quistis began sorting the mages into groups based on the skills they hadn't learned, being mindful to not schedule groups with any shared members immediately before or after one another, to give the mages adequate time to recuperate between tests. She prepared the necessary items for consumption and tried to remain professional and impassive as she watched groups of highly-trained soldiers grimace and gag over the mixtures she administered. Their comrades, however, were not so gracious, openly laughing and jeering at them, until it was their turn.

When it came time for testing, Argider assumed a post just outside the door to the testing chamber, from where he could alternately observe the ongoing process and keep a watchful eye on the mages remaining in the lab. Quistis sat at the control panel, adjusting the conditions within the simulator and monitoring the subjects' vital signs. She thanked the subjects after the test, logged the results, and retrieved the printouts detailing their responses to the simulated battle and the use of their newly-acquired skills.

After she had tested a few groups, Quistis settled into a comfortable rhythm. Outside of several phone calls placed sporadically from the front desk to the laboratory by Retta—messages and deliveries for Argider, her daily announcement that she was leaving and closing the library at the end of her shift—the world outside the laboratory seemed to drop away. After several days, Quistis figured out the number of tests she could fit into the daily schedule, and so began to select several groups a day and dismiss the remaining mages until their turns came. The process became smoother and more efficient, and the results were encouraging.

At the beginning of the second week, however, Quistis noticed calls coming through to the laboratory accompanied by a unique pattern of ringing that she recognized as that from Odine Laboratories. The conversations were always short once Argider answered, bordering on pointless, but the calls increased in frequency each day. Halfway through the week, they had become so disruptive that Argider simply disconnected the laboratory telephone for the rest of the afternoon.

"They must've caught wind of something going on over here," Argider said as he and Quistis straightened the stools at the tables after the mages had left, "and it burns them up that they're not in on it."

"Do you think we should have consulted them before beginning this project?" Quistis asked.

"Hell, no. Let them stew in their curiosity for a while." He laughed. "Like I mentioned to you before, all major research projects in Esthar eventually attract their notice. So, in a way, I'd say it's pretty flattering that your project has caught their attention." He became serious. "But you're still under no obligation to speak with them. You're running this experiment for the Estharian government; if they want to know what's happening here, they can wait to read the report."

Quistis nodded, but she was no longer as averse to the concept of Odine Laboratories as she had been. During her time in Esthar, she had begun to understand the intricacies of the country's structure, the sometimes contradictory alliances between its various sectors, and the "affiliation by necessity" that Argider had spoken of months earlier. She was beginning to more sharply differentiate between Dr. Odine's personal work and the work carried out under his patronage.

Still, she appreciated Argider's protectiveness, particularly as it represented a safe place to which to retreat should she eventually decide to directly interact with O. Labs and find herself in over her head. She told him as much and he chuckled.

"I do what I can," he said. "There aren't a lot of things a regular guy can do to help a SeeD woman. You all are pretty self-reliant. Since you don't really need a knight in shining armor, I'm forced to convey my gallantry through smaller gestures."

"Gallantry?"

"Alas," Argider said, placing a hand over his heart and adopting a dramatic tone, "my gestures are so small as to pass beneath the good lady's notice! Did you not see how I have scaled the tallest stepladders, battled the fearsome dust demons, and braved the caprices of the archive shelves, all so that you could have what you need?" He grinned at her.

Quistis laughed. "Oh my gosh," she said. "I once thought it might be too harsh to refer to you as a nerd, but now I think it might be just right!"

"Of course," he said, walking to her, still in character, "it would be far easier to demonstrate my valor by providing what the lady wants. But, unfortunately, she is silent on the matter." He looked down into her face, his smile grown soft. "So, what doth the damsel desire, that I might bring to her posthaste?"

Quistis felt the heat rush into her face, her heart hammering in her chest. What did she want? She stared at him, then let her gaze wander from his face down his torso, before turning away. She wanted to feel his arms around her, to feel his hands on her waist, wanted to know whether his lips were soft or had been roughened by the sun...

She shook away the thoughts and felt her blush deepen. "Nothing she can't get for herself," she lied.

"Heh. Fair enough, I suppose." Argider went back to straightening the laboratory furniture. "But now that I think about it, I don't believe I've ever heard you ask for anything you wanted, not even an early lunch break. Why is that?"

"I don't like bothering others," Quistis said. "Like I said, if I want something, I'll get it myself. If I have to ask someone for it, then it probably was unnecessary to begin with."

"Interesting. Just remember, people aren't mind-readers."

"I know that. And they're also not resources for me to drain." She straightened the last stool, then looked up. "Well," she said brightly, "only two more days of testing to go. I'll admit, it'll feel strange not having those mages milling about."

"And tedious taking over the front desk duties again," Argider added with a frown. "It was far more exciting up here."

Quistis smiled, and the two of them segued into more mundane topics of conversation, locking away the tension and awkwardness behind the laboratory door when they were finished for the night.

⁂

The lone female mage in the final group of subjects removed the electrodes from her temples and grinned at Quistis.

"I'd like to thank you, Ms. Trepe," she said, "for running this experiment. Not only do I now have several new skills at my disposal, but I also understand how my powers work quite a bit better than I did before."

"I'm very glad that this was a positive experience for you," Quistis replied, "but I should be thanking you—all of you—for participating, especially on such short notice."

"Eh, it was no problem," one of the other mages said. "Spend a few weeks as a lab rat, or march around, follow orders and clean the mess hall? This was the easier, and more interesting, choice, by far."

The rest of the group murmured in agreement, then saluted as they exited the testing chamber and followed Argider to the exit. By the time Argider returned from locking the library doors, Quistis was already perched on a lab stool, going over the results of the tests. Having transferred the data to her computer, she slid it aside and focused on the printouts, letting it fall dormant.

Argider began straightening the stools and wiping down the tables. "Forging straight ahead, huh?" he asked her.

"Well, I figured that since we finished with the tests a couple hours early tonight, I should try to get a head start on interpreting the data." She looked at a printout and frowned.

Argider walked over. "Is something wrong?"

"Subject 17. He is the only one for whom both the distillate and the processed item failed. I ran him through the simulator with the rest of his group, though, just to see if the monitors might give me any clues as to why the skill didn't take. But everything looks normal."

"An outlier. There's one in every group, it seems."

Quistis glanced at him. "So, what do I do with this data?"

"We can always call the subject in for another round of tests, if that would make you feel better," he said. "Alternatively, we could drop it altogether, or better yet, we can use it as a launching point for another study. At any rate, staring at the data all night isn't going to make it fit in with the others."

"Yes, you're right." Quistis sighed and took off her glasses. "I just need to make sure I don't miss anything. I've got one shot at this before I have to go back to Garden, and I need to know that I'm basing my conclusions on the best evidence I could gather."

"I know. And you're doing great right now."

She turned to face him. The stool on which she sat was high enough that her eyes were level with his chin. She looked up and smirked. "I don't think I care for your patronizing tone."

"There's nothing patronizing about it. I'm telling the truth. Within what, a month and a half, you've gone from a researcher on sabbatical to running your own experiment. You took the crash course I gave you in laboratory operation and turned it into a study that could revolutionize the way we approach and train blue mages.  That is beyond impressive."

"I didn't do it alone. You helped me."

"Not as much as you think. You really need to start taking credit for what you do. It's all right to be proud of your work, and it's all right to want recognition." He rested his hand on the table and leaned toward her, dropping his voice. "And it's more than okay to ask for what you want."

She looked at him, remembering their conversation from a few nights before, but still unsure whether the subtext she detected in his last sentence was intentional, or a result of her imagination running wild. Argider revealed nothing, but simply smiled at her, his face close enough to hers that she could see flecks of gold in his dark irises. The familiar sensations began stirring within her once again, the fluttering in her chest, the warmth that spread outward from her heart, each feeling growing stronger with every heartbeat, ultimately coalescing into something she could only describe as desire.

She reached out tentatively and touched his face, running her hand along the sharp angle of his jaw, enjoying the warmth of his skin beneath her palm. He didn't pull away, and that was the only invitation she needed. She leaned forward, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to his.

Hers was a clumsy attempt, owing to inexperience, but it didn't seem to matter to him. He reciprocated, gently, his hand cupping her face, fingertips sliding into her hair. When they parted, Quistis shivered, the air around her suddenly cold in comparison to the flame the kiss had kindled inside her, a flame that refused to cool or diminish.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Don't apologize." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You doing okay?"

Quistis was silent for a moment, then shook her head. "I want more," she said, her final word muffled as she kissed him again. He obliged her with an energy that triggered a hunger in her she hadn't even known she possessed. She matched his intensity, then surpassed it, surprised when she heard a soft moan escape her. Argider broke away to trail kisses along her jaw, and she couldn't suppress a giggle when his lips reached her neck. She felt him smile, but he did not abandon his path, setting off a series of sparks that electrified Quistis to her core. He planted kisses along her collarbone, and when he reached the base of her throat, he briefly flicked his tongue against the small depression there. Quistis gasped and shuddered, pulling him closer, her fingers clenching in his hair. He laughed against her skin, and she thrilled at the vibrations his voice sent through her body. His lips skimmed the length of her throat to find her mouth once more, but as his fingers slid up the nape of her neck, the telephone rang, startling them both.

The pattern of the ringing indicated the call was coming from Odine Laboratories. Again. "Dammit," Argider growled, disentangling his fingers from her hair. "I'm so sorry. I'll get rid of them as quickly as possible."

Quistis nodded, her voice having abandoned her. She watched him lift the receiver, his back to her, and sighed. Her body burned and trembled, and a faint, delicious ache overtook her most sensitive areas. She pressed her hands onto the table in front of her, trying to steady them, and looked around, her gaze coming to rest on her dormant computer.

The face Quistis saw reflected in its darkened screen was one she couldn't recognize as her own. Its cheeks were flushed, its lips full and bright. The eyes were heavy-lidded and dreamy, and sections of hair had escaped their proper places and draped over the shoulders. Quistis reached out to touch this unfamiliar reflection, but when her fingers brushed the screen, the computer flashed back to life, revealing the data she'd been processing. She blinked as reality rushed in, carrying on its back heavy doses of guilt and regret.

What was she doing? What the hell was she doing?

This kind of behavior wasn't like her at all. It was unprofessional and, she admitted, reeked of desperation. How had things gotten so out of control? What might have happened had the interruption not occurred? She hurriedly fixed her hair and straightened her clothes, then packed away her laptop and other materials and shrugged on her jacket. She had to leave now.

Argider, meanwhile, finished up his phone call and turned to her with a smile that faded as he registered the meaning of her appearance.

"I need to apologize," Quistis said before he could speak. "What I did was completely unprofessional."

"If that's the case, then so was my response," he said, "and I should apologize as well. But I really don't consider it a monumental transgression if both of us simply accepted what the other offered. Unless I misinterpreted the situation?"

"No, you were right. But the blame is all mine. I started it." She frowned. "I just feel so stupid. I'm here to work, not to—" She waved her hand, unable to even verbalize what had happened.

"And you have been working, hard, almost nonstop, since you arrived. So maybe you had a lapse in judgment. I'm not going to hold it against you."

"I appreciate that."

"But please, don't take all the blame. I would've reacted far differently if I hadn't wanted any part of it." He grinned and Quistis silently cursed as the flame inside her roared to life again. "The past few months working with you have been amazing," Argider continued. "You're smart, you're dedicated, and your insight has opened up a new branch of research. You're straightforward and articulate and—if you'll forgive me for being shallow—incredibly attractive."

"I don't believe you're being particularly rational right now."

"Maybe not, but I mean what I said. I really like you, and I consider myself very fortunate for having met you." As his words hung in silence for several moments, his smile transformed into a wince. "But maybe I misread the implications of what happened."

"No, you didn't. I feel the same way about you. The kindness you've shown me, the confidence you have in my abilities even when I doubt myself—no one's given me that before. And that's why I'm afraid. I'm afraid that if the nature of our relationship changes, those things will, too."

"No, they won't. Because they're the foundation for everything else."

Quistis sighed. "I want to believe you, but right now I'm too confused to make that decision. And this kind of uncertainty is the last thing I need when I have the project to complete." She looked in his eyes. "Please understand. Under different circumstances, maybe if the project was already finished, I might not feel so bad. But until then, I can't let my 'lapses in judgment,' as you call them, interfere with my work."

He nodded, serious. "I understand. But it's impossible to ignore what happened. So, what do we do now?"

"I was hoping you'd have the answer." Quistis shifted the weight of her bag across her shoulders. "But maybe… maybe it might be best if I took tomorrow off… to give us both a few days to cool down and think this through rationally."

"You're probably right." He leaned against the counter and rubbed his eyes. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"You're not going to use this as an excuse to let the project die. You've worked far too hard for this."

Quistis smiled. "I promise," she said. "I promise I will be back here at the beginning of next week, and I will see this through, and I promise that somehow we'll figure out whatever in the world is happening between us, too." She nodded farewell and quickly walked out of the laboratory.

As she exited the library, however, the cold night air restored some of her senses, and she realized with a sinking feeling that her last promise might be impossible to keep.

Continue with Part Two (Chapters 8-Epilogue) here!Back to Top