Arcane Crisis

A/N: Brief warning. The story starts out fairly mild, but will get into dangerous territory later on. Anyone squeamish when it comes to yaoi should turn back now. On that note... let's get on to playing with my two favorite boys...



Chapter 1



Black combat boots tore across hot gravel, clouds of dust born in their trail. The stifling desert air was saturated with a stale pungent smell of rotting flesh and fresh blood. A vile shriek rang across the empty wasteland as a cold blue blade slid through tough skin, tearing through to the bone. Dark liquid started oozing from the open gash and fumes hissed angrily as the liquid hit the ground.

The leather clad fighter was already aiming another blow at the colossal beast, taut muscles directing the azure weapon towards the target. A grimy paw shot through the air and stopped the warrior's path, throwing him forcefully back through the air. Burning pain caused by crushed lungs only added slightly to the already overwhelming blaze of pain felt by the dark haired man. Too aware of countless cuts, scrapes, broken bones and crushed limbs the man tried to distance himself from the beast temporarily. Unjunctioned he was unable to lessen the torrent of pain shooting through him. But he had wanted it that way. If not this way the fight would have been too easy. Pain was a motivator, a way of driving him closer to the maddening edge he had been seeking lately. It was all part off the game.

Pupils dilated with excitement, gray-blue eyes took in the state of the creature a good few meters away. Another well aimed cut or two should do the trick, the last attack having noticeably weakened the beast. Clutching his blade fiercely he ran towards the faltering creature and kept his eyes open for any indication of paws aimed his way. Inches from the putrid animal trained feet shot into the air, the lithe man flowing through the air with unnatural grace as his blade cut across the face of his enemy. Before feet reached the ground again claws tore at the fighter's arms, gripping savagely at exhausted muscles. Composed eyes faced the beast as it stumbled backwards, dragging the determined fighter with it. Freeing his right arm, the man focused all his remaining energy on wielding the cold blue blade and drove it deep into the beast's chest. Howling, the animal released its hold on the fighter to grasp at the blade, and with both hands the man twisted the blade whilst pushing the trigger at the blade's hilt. Spasms took over the beast and dry dust filled the air. It was over.

Sinking to his knees, the broken fighter could no longer suppress the biting pain. As silence rang out, the nauseating smell of burnt skin hit him full force and an unfamiliar sensation turned his eyes to his arm. Black liquid was eating its way into his skin, bare muscles already visible. Tearing of a bit of cloth from his stained shirt, he immediately worked on removing the dark liquid, abrasive movements causing excruciating pain. With clenched teeth and narrowed eyes he continued to clean off as much of the dark liquid as possible. Water. It was the only way to stop the acid from progressing. But he was miles away from anywhere. This was a first. The first time he'd taken it this far. Using his good arm he fished out a mobile from his pocket and focused all his thoughts on that task alone. The numbing sensation of approaching unconsciousness was setting in. Come on. Come on. Not bothering with a greeting when he heard the click signaling someone picking up his call, he rushed ahead.

"I'm down. 27.4 and 78.1. Hurry."

A gloved hand closed the mobile but as the fighter doubled over in pain the phone slipped out of his grasp and landed on the ground with a dull thud. Drawing in heavy breaths, convulsions started raking through his beaten form. Lying flat on the dusty ground he focused on the steady earth beneath him. Another wave of convulsions hit him, the bitter taste of vomit following in its wake. Fighting to clear his airways, his vision went dark, bright sparks dancing before his eyes.

Pale lips drawn tight suddenly relaxed and everything went still.

In the middle of the desert lay a slain beast and a broken fighter, unmoving and dead to the world. Silence reigned as a breeze caressed the ground and the midday sun bore down on them unrelentingly.

---

Dim light filtered through drawn curtains, diffuse shadows stretching across the stark room. On the lone bed lay the fighter, unconscious but alive. They had arrived in time. The fighter's entire left arm was covered in a white bandage, and the blond woman perched on a borrowed stool kept glancing at it. Her usual strict expression was replaced with one of concern and worry. Reaching out to rest her hand on the man's well arm, she sighed heavily. The pale skin was cold to the touch, but less so than when they'd first found him. A buzz coming from her pocket tore her mind from the man in front of her and standing swiftly, she exited the room.

"Quistis," she answered.

"Quistis," a young woman repeated urgently, not stopping between words. "I just got your message. What happened? How is he?"

"He's okay," Quistis replied, bending her head forward whilst pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, stalling. "Squall will be fine. We got there in time. At least that's what Kadowaki keeps telling me."

A soft exhale was heard on the other end followed by an unintelligible whisper.

Remembering the horrible scene she had witnessed earlier that day Quistis felt fury claw it's way back into her soul, threatening to overtake her.

"Rin, I'm worried", she said casting a glance towards the room she'd just left, her tone accusatory. "He went into battle unjunctioned." She paused. "All alone."

When no reply came, she continued. "You should have seen the beast. I don't know what he was thinking. It was a mammoth compared to Squall. And it was cursed creature. Nothing to even think about attacking without being junctioned."

Neither spoke as they both pondered the meaning behind Squall's actions.

"Maybe there's a reason," the girl on the other end said softly, though unable to hide her own concern.

"No," Quistis said, sighing, conveying her exasperation. "It was in the middle of nowhere. His motorbike was parked close by. He'd hunted the thing."

"There's more," Quistis let out gingerly, revolted at what she'd been told earlier. "Kadowaki told me he's been fighting unjunctioned for a while. When treating him she found numerous scars that wouldn't disappear. He hasn't even bothered with potions to get rid of them."

"Why?" the other girl asked in a wounded whisper.

"I'm not sure," Quistis replied. "But... he seems bored and lonely."

"But he was the one tha-" the other girl started defensively before the blond cut her off.

"I know. I'm not blaming you, Rinoa. He's different to us. He doesn't enjoy the same things as us and both he and we know that."

"Bu-," Rinoa tried to cut in.

"He doesn't have anyone to fight with. I set him up with another gunblader yesterday... the best one here at Garden apart from Squall. But the guy is no match. Not even close."

"So what, we're just going to stand by while Squall kills himself because he's bored?" the other girl asked, not able to hide her anger and frustration.

"Xu doesn't even give him any missions at the moment. None of us get any. There aren't any. At least the rest of us have other things we like to do," Quistis stated.

"Don't make excuses Quistis!" Rinoa cried out, taking her mounting frustration out on her friend.

"I'm not! I'm just telling you how it is," Quistis said, defeated. Silence once again fell between them.

"I'm sorry," the girl on the other end of the line finally said softly.

"Me too," the blond agreed with a sigh.

"Have you told Laguna?" Rinoa asked.

"Kadowaki did."

"Should I come visit?"

"Do what you want, Rin. I have no clue what he needs right now," Quistis replied, sincere.

"I'll think about it. Let me know if anything happens, okay? I miss you Quisty," the girl said, sad.

"I will. Take care. Sorry I had to worry you with this."

"Me too," Rinoa exhaled. "Bye."

As a clicking sound signaled the end of the call the blond pressed her fingers to her forehead and started rubbing. She had a feeling her budding headache would only keep increasing in strength.

With apprehension she looked at the closed door in front of her before walking back into the room to watch over the recovering fighter.

---

With an uncomfortable dryness in his mouth, the fighter warily opened his eyes. His whole body was tingling pleasantly. Aftereffects of curaga. Swallowing, he looked around the dark room. The infirmary. Images of his battle with the horrid creature flashed before his eyes, supplying the information he needed. I survived. Sitting up in the bed he took in the view of white cotton covering his left arm. Frowning he tried to think back, but didn't remember anything happening to his arm. Last thing he remembered was impaling the creature's gut with Lion Heart. With an internal shrug he pushed himself off the bed, naked feet landing softly on the floor. Locating his clothes he quickly dressed and headed out, not caring about repercussions for leaving the infirmary without permission.

The halls where deserted and it was dark outside. Approaching the SeeD wing he felt anxious. Being parted from Lion Heart always left him with a feeling of dread.

Punching in the code to his dorm room he waited patiently for the door to slide open before stepping inside. Bright light lit up the room and frantic eyes searched the room for the familiar case. Spotting it on the dining table, Squall hurriedly walked over to the case and swung it open. His breath slowed and eyes softened at the blue glow emanating from the blade in front of him. Gloved fingers traced the blade reverently and the fighter sat down slowly.

For ages the lone figure sat in silence, stony eyes focused solely on the weapon in front of him. With a heavy heart he closed the case and crossed the room, case in hand, to switch the light back off. Walking to his bedroom he placed the heavy case next to his bed and plopped down on the hard mattress.

Empty eyes trained on the ceiling, the dark haired man lay impossibly still, mind focused on the growing anguish he felt. No one understands.

Fighting the creature had felt good and temporarily eased his mind. But it hadn't been enough. It hadn't been a clash of blades and a dance of metal.

Since the defeat of Ultimecia everything had changed. There hadn't been any other great threats to deal with and the skills Squall had learnt during the war made him grossly overpowered. Left without challenges he had become more and more restless and started to fight monsters unjunctioned just for the thrill. He had always been most excited and felt most alive when in a tough battle, so having that taken away from him was slowly but surely destroying him. And no one understood. Everyone else enjoyed their new positions in life and enjoyed time of relaxation. His friends would occasionally humor him with a spar, but it never left him satisfied as the fights were always magic based; their weapons and fighting techniques were no match his skills as a gunblader. Magic was the only way of evening out the battlefield. But being a gunblader what Squall needed was to feel as one with his blade and make it sing in battle.

Squall's hands clenched and his eyes shot close in bitterness. No one was able to challenge him anymore. The gunblader Quistis had set him up with yesterday had been a pathetic excuse of a SeeD. Squall's opening move had sent the other fighter's blade flying out of his grip and before the guy had even registered the loss of his weapon Squall had been on top of the guy and pinned him to the ground. Gasping for breath the younger man had been flustered and embarrassed but Squall had been overbearing and allowed the younger man another try. But when Squall had disarmed the bewildered SeeD with just as much ease the second time around, gray-blue eyes had narrowed to thin slits and the dark haired Commander had turned on his heels and stridden off.

Scattered thoughts always returned to his blond rival whenever Squall was agonizing over the hollow feeling that was threatening to slowly drive him crazy. Even now when he thought back on their spars, Squall could feel excitement build within him as he remembered the invigorating unpredictability of the blond, that which made their fights both addicting and dangerous. Angry eyes shot open and glared at the empty air above him.

Coward. Why did you run?

Angry at his own inability to track down the blond, Squall sat up in his bed and let out a deep sigh of frustration. Legs hanging limply over the edge of the bed he lent forward to rest his head in his hands. Where are you? Like countless times before he started racking his brain for possible places Seifer could have gone to. Interrogating Fujin and Raijin hadn't helped. Fujin had just placed a note in his hands without a word. Don't look for me. Be safe. The words hadn't been meant for him but he had known their meaning. Seifer had run, hadn't wanted to face the trial facing him. And it pissed Squall off. He hated cowards that wouldn't live up to their actions, but most of all he just hated Seifer for running off like that when Squall was certain that Seifer was the only one that would understand Squall's burning need to fight, and probably the only one capable of satisfying that need.

Pulling at his hair Squall felt like his mind was fragmenting, splitting his skull apart. I need to get out of here. Walking over to his terminal he switched on the display, cold electric light causing long shadows to fall on his bed. Composing a message to Xu, Squall was temporarily distracted. He requested a meeting the following day, hoping he'd be able to persuade the headmaster to let him go on a mission. Clicking send the brunet stared at the screen in silence for long minutes before he navigated to the guardian force directory. Ungloving his right hand, he held it out to the panel next to the display before pressing it firmly against the cold material. With his left hand he entered the code for Shiva and held his breath as he felt the divine spirit junction with his soul. Specks of ice crystallized in the air around him, a thin layer of frozen perspiration covering his body.

Returning to his bed he took off his clothes and lay down under the sheets. Clearing his mind he softly murmured the words of a far too familiar spell and fell into dreamless slumber.

---

"No, Squall, I haven't heard anything new," Laguna said, as Squall held his mobile to his ear. Squall had anticipated this answer, but had deemed it worth a try anyway. Holding the mobile between his ear and shoulder he went back to packing as the conversation dragged on.

"Are you sure you are okay, Squall?" the older man asked. It had taken a lot of Squall's patience already to assure his father that yesterday had been an accident, that he'd forgotten that he wasn't junctioned and that no, it would never happen again. Still, it seemed that his father knew something was wrong.

"Yes," Squall replied, rummaging around for his gunblade polish and some rags. "Xu gave me a mission."

"That's great. When are you going?"

"Tonight," Squall replied.

"Can you tell me what it's about? Or is that confidential?" the man asked, his tone light.

"Draw points. I'll be setting up perimeters around them and register their locations," Squall replied sounding less enthusiastic than he felt. He'd get to focus on something for a while and at the same time it provided the perfect opportunity for him to search for Seifer. Not to mention easy access to monsters. For the first time in months Squall felt like there would be a point to getting up in the morning.

"Nh. I see. How long will you be gone?" his father asked.

"A while," Squall answered, hopeful.

"Come by Esthar soon," Laguna pleaded.

"Maybe. I'll be in the area at some point to map out the draw points."

"You could use Esthar as a base, son."

A knock sounded from Squall's door, drawing the dark haired man's attention away from the conversation with his father.

"I gotta go," Squall said whilst closing his mobile and headed for the door, cutting short the conversation with his father.

The door opened and through it stepped Quistis, her face still twisted in anger just like it had been earlier. She had been livid when Squall had last seen her, uncharacteristic anger aimed his way because of his performance yesterday. Spotting Squall's gathered traveling packs on the dining table Quistis' eyes narrowed to mere slits.

"Running away?" she snarled, walking past him to stand in front of him, arms crossed, demanding an explanation.

"Quistis," he said trying to soothe her, but turned to his bedroom to start gathering the clothes he would need for the mission.

"I am not running," he continued as she followed him into the bedroom.

Neither said anything as he started piling shirts and trousers on the bed.

"Xu agreed to send me on a mission," he informed. "I finally have something to do."

Quistis' stern expression softened slightly at his words and she sat down on the bed to watch him as he gathered some belts from a drawer.

"Which mission?" the woman inquired, curious eyes following his moves.

"The details are up on my terminal," he said as he filled his arms with the pile that had built on the bed and went into the living room. Quistis looked over at screen and got up to find out what exactly her friend was up to.

The sound of cupboards being opened and closed again reached her as she read the specifics of the mission. Busy reading she didn't notice when Squall sat down behind her on the bed, his eyes trained on her.

"I'll be gone for a while," he said softly.

"I'll miss you," she countered, turning around to face him.

"I know," he said, sighing as their eyes locked. He knew she felt alone already. Selphie and Irvine had gone to Trabia, Rinoa to Centra and with not much happening at Garden, Zell had been spending most of his time in Balamb. Squall was the only one still around and even though he'd returned to his more introverted nature shortly after the war, Quistis had remained a friend.

"Promise me you'll stay junctioned," the blond said, her eyes shining with worry.

Without a straight answer Squall got up from his bed and turned to leave. "I better get going."

A pale hand shot up to cling to his wrist. "Squall," she said, pleading eyes searching his profile. "Promise me."

"I will. I am," he said reluctantly. "Shiva will be with me."

With that he resumed his path and exited the bedroom.

"I'll help you carry your stuff," Quistis offered, grabbing one of the duffel bags lying on the table. With a slight nod of acceptance Squall grabbed the rest and locked up the room.

---

Purple bolts of electricity formed a brief dome around Squall before disappearing entirely. Another perimeter had been set up successfully, preventing civilians from using the draw point. Entering the coordinates into the device in his hands, Squall walked over to his bike. Feeling restless he eyed the rocky ledge that overlooked the beach. It was a large drop promising a long fall if one was to accidentally step over the edge. Gray-blue eyes danced at the thought and Squall couldn't help but walk closer.

Sitting down, legs hanging over the edge, Squall scanned the horizon. A cool sea breeze ruffled his hair as the afternoon sun beat down on his skin. The feel of cold rock beneath his fingers grounded him, temporarily stilling his urge to push himself forward. Despite the lack of challenge, these last months had been good to him. Being out in the sun all day, in nature working on a task singlemindedly had soothed his nerves. It hadn't stopped him from seeking out the thrill of battle though. He'd stayed junctioned as promised but only in case of an emergency. Red lines cut across most parts of his body, their dull pain reminding him of recent fights. Whilst being junctioned he would never experience the higher levels of excitement that came from knowing his life was on the line, but for now the pact he'd made with himself of not curing his wounds served as a fine catalyst for experiencing thrill during battle and was enough to keep him sated.

He was no closer to locating Seifer, only certain that the blond was nowhere to be seen on the Galbadian continent. With hope Squall thought back to his last conversation with Selphie. Someone had tipped her off about a man resembling the ex-knight. He had been spotted months back in the northern mountains. It wasn't much of anything, but after Squall had gotten the call his mind had slowly convinced him that he should be mapping out the draw points of Trabia next and not those of Centra as originally planned.

Looking down at the beach far below Squall felt his stomach drop and pushed himself off the ledge. The sudden change in velocity and the tingle in his stomach as his body dropped rapidly made Squall feel alive. Just before impact, rushed words left pale lips and his body stopped inches from the ground, hovering. A tiny smile formed on usually steely lips as he motioned to stand up, his pulse ringing loudly in his ears. Wanting to feel the hot sand beneath his feet he undressed and once naked walked to the surf. Cold water licking at his body helped bring him back down from his high and calmness washed over him as he swam into the cold sea, playfully leaving trails of ice in his wake.

---

Walking up the stony path, Squall held his jacket tight. His cheeks were rosy from the cold winter air, but hidden by the darkness surrounding him. The path led to Matrei, a tiny village perched on a western Trabia hillside, just off Eldbeak Peninsula. This was where his search had led him and for the first time during his search for Seifer it seemed like he was on to something. His destination was a tiny pub where the local villagers gathered on many of the cold nights for warmth and company. Tonight would be the seventh night that he would join them, or rather sit in a corner of the bar and wait patiently. The patrons had easily recognized a photo of Seifer, but instead of frowning like others did upon being show a picture of the ex-knight, smiles had appeared and drunken heroic tales about dragon slaying and daring rescues had erupted from gleeful faces. They had assured him that the man in the photo joined them regularly for a night of drinking, but when he had inquired about the man's living quarters they had looked confused and fallen short.

Having already spent almost a week going to the pub every night, Squall was starting to lose faith. Maybe they had mistaken Seifer for someone else. Maybe Seifer had moved on.

 

Ice crystals danced in front of Squall with each breath he took and he felt himself shudder, the cold seeping through his thick layers of clothing. His bike had given up in the rough weather and all the work he had managed so far in Trabia had been on foot.

Spotting soft lights ahead he slowed down. Like nights previous he was getting anxious at the sight of the pub. Resuming his trail he ran a gloved hand through his hair and shook his shoulders to rid himself of the snow that had gathered.

Clutching the wooden door handle Squall eased open the door. Warmth assaulted him and his eyes closed in reflex at the hot onslaught. Taking in the smell of old pine, dust and alcohol he reopened his eyes to survey the room. The large burly man behind the bar gave him a perfunctory nod before returning to pouring stout.   

The usual patrons were there and then some. When he turned to look at a group of them they all stopped talking and eyed him wearily, the unusual reaction alerting him to something being amiss. 

Out of the corner of his eyes Squall spotted a lone figure sitting at the end of the bar and took a deep steadying breath. Seifer.

Tensing at the sight in front of him, Squall collected his thoughts and slowly walked towards the man at the bar.

All eyes were on Squall, following his approach in suspense. The tension was palpable and thick in the air. Why, Squall had no idea. They hadn't seemed concerned with Squall's presence or his interest in Seifer before.

Pulling out the bar stool next to Seifer, Squall hoisted himself up onto it, noticing the stern expression on the blond's face. The blond was staring determinedly at the pint of stout in his hand, ignoring Squall's approach.

Turning his gaze away from Seifer temporarily, Squall looked towards the bartender and gestured towards the drink in Seifer's hand. Ignoring Squall's request, the bulky man instead rang a bell. "Another round on the house," he hollered.

The two men sat in silence as the bartender proceeded to serve every customer a complimentary pint of the dark beverage. When the man had finished serving everyone, the pub had come alive again, no one giving the strange couple at the bar a second thought.

Squall focused on the glass in front of him and cringed slightly at the sour taste that filled his mouth every time he took a sip. Unsure of how to address the blond next to him he just sat there in silence, slowly working his way through his pint. Why wasn't Seifer in his face and yelling at him? That would have been a lot easier to deal with.

"Almasy," Squall began when he had almost finished his first pint.

Still not acknowledging Squall, the blond called for the bartender.

"A scotch, single malt, and another pint," the blond ordered.

Briefly looking at Seifer, Squall decided to follow the blond's lead.

"Same."

Out of the corner of his eyes Squall spotted a slight smirk on Seifer's lips, probably in response to the request Squall had just made, and Squall couldn't help but frown.

Drinks placed in front of them, Squall immediately downed the scotch, relishing the burning sensation it caused in his throat.

"Seifer," he tried again and turned his head to look at the blond, but the blond kept his attention fixed on the beverage in his hands, thumb absently playing with the cold water droplets clinging to the outside of the glass.

"Go home, Squall," the blond man finally replied, his voice stern, before he brought his scotch back to his lips and downed the remaining alcohol.

"We need to talk," Squall stated determinedly.

The larger man sighed and took a large sip of his stout before continuing. "What do you want, puberty boy?"

Stalling, Squall considered his options.

"Do you still fight?" he asked, deciding to be direct. "Do you still have Hyperion?"

The blond man chortled at this, but the amusement never reached his eyes. "You want revenge, huh?" He paused briefly, lips drawn tight. "Want to humiliate me one more time just for kicks? What's wrong, ever after not working out for you?" His tone was growing more poisonous by the second, green eyes sparkling in anger. "Saving the world not enough of an ego boost? Rinoa not spreading her legs wide enough? ...Or maybe she just doesn't like a cold stick between her thighs?"

Snorting, the blond got up from the bar and faced Squall with cold eyes, but the brunette was too focused on controlling his own anger to even look at the blond.

"Leave me the fuck alone," the blond demanded, eyeing the younger man in disdain. "And for the record, I could still kick your sorry ass into next week, even if you do cling onto that icy bitch like a little slut."

With that the blond turned and strode towards the exit, leaving behind an unfinished glass of stout. Squall forced himself to keep in place and not ruin everything by running after the blond prematurely. Counting to ten he slid off his stool and walked to look out the window. Seifer was gone. Leaving a large sum of gil on the counter Squall nodded his goodbye to the bartender before heading out into the cold night to pursue the blond.

---