6Chapter 3 – Look for the Positives
The hunter's spot had been well-chosen. His quarry would never know what hit it.
He had taken the precaution, when erecting the snow-lion hide across the lair's entrance, to place it several metres up inside the passage. The blue dragon had lived here for long enough to leave tracks that a blind man could have tripped over; on its habitual approach, the monster would not be in line-of-sight to peer far enough down the passage to detect the hanging fur.
It was possible that it would somehow detect the smell of smoke; certain members of the poison-breathing wyrm family could develop exquisite acuities in sensing the flows of air (if not the smell). But his place of ambush was sufficient to cover that possibility.
The distant flap of a set of leathery wings set a tight-lipped smile to his visage.
—ox-oxo-xo—
His trigger finger was threatening to cramp up. It was just one more item to add to Irvine Kinneas's litany of complaints. (Private complaints – he was the only SeeD of his team. But still…)
They were almost out of potions. They'd been 'almost out' for a while. Thankfully, the young sorceress was beginning to get the hang of casting healing magics, and they'd occasionally pick up healing items from the spoils. Which was a mixed blessing… A sorceress was constantly hitting on him. He could've done with it thirty years ago (when he was single), or even twenty years ago (before he and Selphie decided to stop mucking about and tie the knot); at this time of his life, he'd rather not. After all, he was happily married, thank you very much – and she was less than half his age, not even out of her teens, for all her porcelain beauty. What the hell was she thinking? Was she just after a challenge?
But there wasn't anything to do about that for the moment. After all… They were trapped inside a mine, choc'o'block full of badass monsters. Yep, that would have to be the biggest one of his complaints, followed closely by… He'd had about six hours of sleep in the past WEEK. It was hard to get a good night's sleep when a monster seemed to show up whenever he closed his eyes. Running about and fighting to survive on catnaps was unpleasant enough when he was in his teens. Doing it now was torture.
It could be worse, of course. After all, at least all of them were alive – that cave-in had been a close call. And at least he'd had the foresight to bring Ifrit and Leviathan along for the hunt. Leviathan's ability to refine GF recovery items at least kept them in shape; it also helped, being able to refine support magic from the loot so that he could give the SeeD candidate a chance to pull his weight. And even the exhaustion had a 'positive' aspect: he had spent a fair amount of time simply searching for the moment. The one when he could pour himself into his rifle, meld with it. Make it do things it was never meant to… And Ifrit helped out there, too – at least he could refine more ammo.
Which led, of course, right back to his most recent complaint. When it came down to dealing out serious hurt to the endless parade of enemies, Fast Ammo was best for the job. Pulse Ammo might be flashy, but there was just something about drilling dozens of holes into your enemy in the space of a handful of seconds…
If he lived through this, though, he decided he'd swear off the stuff…for a while. Hyne, his finger hurt.
"Zamal, you doing all right there?"
"…Yeah…just a little sleepy still…" The young lad straightened, stretched. "It's weird. Instructor, do you know why sleep spells never seem to make you feel better like real sleep does?"
"Wait, wait, I know this…" Zena glanced sideways at the instructor, ready to show off. "It's because a 'sleep' spell isn't actually sleeping. It just freezes you up, puts your mind in a limbo that looks like sleep to the outside observer." She smirked at Irvine, striking a pose that she probably thought would turn him on. "Isn't that right, Instructor?"
"I dunno," he shrugged.
"Wha…?" Confronted by puzzled exclamations in stereo, Irvine tried not to laugh. The two of them were like peas in a pod, for all the twins might argue the fact.
"I teach marksmanship. NOT magic." He let out a tired chuckle, his teeth glinting in the flickering light of the fire spell which had served as their only source of light since the cave-in trapped them in the mine's depths. "Really, you'd think the SeeD candidate and the girl who's been tryi—"
"…Trying? Trying to what? What are you talking ab—" Seeing his raised hand – and the concentration writ large on his features – they shut up. For a moment.
"Um…Instructor?" the young sorceress asked. "Do you hear something…?"
Irvine began to laugh. Quietly, of course; he didn't want to alert any monsters nearby. "Sefie, I so love you…" And a veritable cornucopia of items began to appear on the ground – seemingly out of thin air – right at his feet.
"Oh wow…" Zamal ran forward, to rummage gleefully through the rapidly increasing selection. "Mega-Potions, X-Potions, Mega-Phoenixes… There's dozens of them!"
"What the…?" Zena stared, fascinated and a little spooked, at the shimmering vortex of energy which had opened up under that patch of rock. If she squinted, she could just see each ethereal thread as it took its appointed, solid form. What if… She…pulled at one of the threads just as it appeared, and the item solidified. It was an Elixir, floating in the air before her eyes. Stunned, Zena managed to catch the suddenly plummeting vial before its precious contents went to waste.
She looked up, to see Zamal staring at her, grinning. The unexpected bounty – and her own wonder – prompted her to grin back.
"Babe, you're a lifesaver! I'll see you soon… Oh! And tell Ellone hi for me." Irvine shivered; it always felt a little weird when 'the faeries' left. The teens looked up at the instructor, each trying to find the words. He looked down at them, a smirk on his lips. "…Sorry kids, that one's classified. Let's just say, I got a little visit from a certain GF I don't usually see much of…"
He indulged himself in a languorous stretch. "Now, d'you reckon the two of you could hold the fort down for a few hours, with them there lovely gifts to help out? I'm plain bushed…" And he laid down, right then and there.
His consciousness dwindling into blessed, real sleep at last, Irvine Kinneas did find time to add one more complaint to the list. He'd have to start saving for that new car again…
—ox-oxo-xo—
"Awwwww…"
A sense of throat-clearing.
"So… Irvy says hi."
"I heard." Ellone's 'voice' shimmered with dry amusement for a moment. "I'm glad I was able to help the two of you out. I'm just sorry I couldn't get back to you earlier." A sigh. "Now, the both of us should really be getting some actual sleep tonight, so…"
"Ok, I'll…WAIT!"
"Hm?"
"I found Squall!"
"…WHAT?"
If a disembodied voice could jump up and down for excitement, Selphie's voice would surely be doing it. "There were some snow lions and he came and helped me out and carried me to this cave and he doesn't remember me or even him but he's alive and I found him and he's alive Ellone, he's ALIVE!"
The mental equivalent of a blink, as Ellone sorted through the jumbled rush of words.
"…We're coming." And the link snapped without further warning.
—ox-oxo-xo—
Selphie knew perfectly well that, as Ellone had reminded her, she really should get some proper sleep. And her knowledge of Irvine's safety – for the moment – really did help.
Of course, that left her with another problem. A new one.
How could she convince Squall to come with her?
Her mind ticking away, wrestling with strategies, her body eventually went ahead and switched off anyway.
—ox-oxo-xo—
His blade hewed through the base of the tail, leaving the appendage hanging like a snapped twig, attached only by a tendon and some scales. The knife sufficed for that last cut.
The blue dragon had fed well. Now so would he.
Heaving the dribbling length of meat aside for the moment, he regarded the still-gurgling mound of dead dragon, already collecting a frosting of snowflakes. If Selphie Tilmitt's penchant for prattling about weather and fainting was to continue, it was likely he would have to remain to guard her while she recovered. As such, he should leave no trace of its corpse.
A prolonged blizzaga, directed along its length like a breath-attack, froze the creature solid. A hefty swing of the gunblade shattered it into several pieces. He got on with the drudgery of rolling them down the path. His mind was a long way away, searching all he knew of the area – but not in terms of landmarks or townships. He thought of new hunting grounds, and where best they might be found and traversed; his inner demon growled and crooned to his musings.
The largest pieces disposed of, and the smaller scraps covered with a thin layer of snow, he went back to the tail. More snow went over the pool of blood at its stump; a fire spell served to cauterise the stump itself. With the substantial meat his spoils represented, he could travel for several days without needing to restock.
Well, probably. Selphie Tilmitt could complicate things…
He stopped. Tilmitt? No, she'd said Kinneas.
'…Tilmitt…'
"Weird…"
The hunter shrugged. He never had understood its words. Why should he be surprised if it spouted nonsense when he did understand it? Returning to thoughts of killing, he paid the voice no further mind.
A/N: Suppose I should mention...
I already have over half of this story written (it should go out to 12- or 13 chapters). But I'm leaking it out in dribs and drabs (large ones) so's to allow useful reviews to shape the thing. If you have anything to contribute, then by all means hit that link down there...