Shutat opened his eyes to find himself in his bed, in his room, and everything as it should be. Except that he knew that his 'dream' hadn't been a dream, or even a vision, but quite real. He looked around, but neither Squall nor Rinoa were anywhere to be seen.

We are still with you, said their voices in his mind. But not at your side unless there is reason. Watching you sleep is hardly entertaining.

Well, of course not. Since he was leaving the Garden, and his mission wouldn't require him to wear his uniform all the time, he dressed in his 'casual' gear - the leathers that he'd worn in his dream. He found it much more comfortable then formal attire, but he packed his uniform anyway. At some point he'd find the White SeeD, and at that time it would probably be a good idea if he could pull out the formal wear. In the meantime, properly packed, it would make a good pillow.

Of course, he hid a great many blades about his person. His half-Gift was limited to edged weapons; it was a good idea to always have a few of them handy. Most people were distracted by the huge flamberge, and never noticed the quantity of daggers he could produce. It was a handy thing to know; that people could be distracted from the small and unobtrusive by the presence of the large and obvious.

Pack a journal, suggested Griever. So that your visions are recorded.

Why? asked Shutat. I don't usually talk about them. People don't want to know that kind of thing, and I include myself in 'people'.

Because you are becoming a nexus, Griever said unhelpfully. And what you see may be relevant in ways you do not now understand.

I suppose five hundred years or so would give you an edge in the perspective category, Shutat conceded, and fished out a blank journal from the room's desk. The heading was 'Memories' - understandable, he supposed, since officers often worked with GFs and the attendant memory loss associated with junctions. He packed it into his bag, along with writing implements. When he felt himself as prepared as he was going to get - until he could get his mother to order him a proper set of winter gear in SeeD black and gold - he hefted his pack over his free shoulder and left the room. The relative cool of the hall - about forty degrees cooler than his rooms' temperature - shocked him back into awareness of where he was. This was not a place where he was free to be at ease. Unconsciously he slipped into the clipped stride of SeeD, his thoughts shifting from his native Esthari to the trade tongue of the Gardens.

His thumb-print - when he removed his glove - was all the authorization needed to key the elevator into action. He was wriggling his fingers back into the glove when the door opened onto the main floor; Chugi and Naia, already packed, were standing at the Directory waiting for him.

"Somebody likes to sleep late," Naia teased.

"And leave early," added Chugi. "You missed the best part of the night. The Headmaster's daughter got into waaaay too much champagne and -"

"I can miss Eiryn dancing topless, thank you," interrupted Shutat shortly. "For one, I've seen it before, and two - I always end up imagining her father threatening to expel me for looking." He looked around. "Guess we check out at the Commander's office?"

"Yep," said Naia, hefting her own bag into place. "So, o wise leader-who-leapfrogs-across-the-ranks, where are we going?"

"Esthar," he replied as they slipped around the stairs to the Commander's office. "I'll tell you at the same time I tell him."

"Any chance to go home?" asked Chugi as Shutat knocked and the door opened. "You weren't so keen on going home before now."

"I was a cadet," said Shutat. "And my mother's never approved of this line of work for me. She's very traditional. Now I'm a SeeD, and I don't have to live in the Garden and under Alois' eye, I think it's all right to say hello."

"Mission first," said the Commander, rising. "I take it you've decided to go to Esthar?"

"Yes, sir," Shutat agreed, bowing. "To the archives at the Sorceress Memorial. It's as good a place as any to see if I can begin tracking down the White SeeD. They're after the same targets we are, after all - Sorceresses."

"It's been tried," said Omar with a shrug, holding out a clipboard. "But I'm leaving the handling of this up to you. Here's your official contract, pay scales, the lot. Sign over the touchpad, and add your thumbprint when you're done."

"If anybody wanted to throw SeeD into chaos," Naia noted, "All they'd have to do is cut off our thumbs. Pow! No more paychecks!"

The Commander was not amused. "We keep retinal scans on file as well," he said. "And DNA scans. To not get paid, there would have to be not enough left of you to identify."

"When did you get all that?" asked Chugi absently, looking over his own contract. "I don't remember signing up."

"Infirmary visits," said the Commander. "Now - once you leave here, you're on your own for all expenses. If you want to be reimbursed, keep receipts and transmit them whenever you can. Shutat's team leader as the highest ranking member, so any official expenses had better be in his name." He eyed the mageborn sternly. "I catch you buying gourmet or luxury items on the Garden account, you'd better believe the Disciplinary Committee will hear about it."

"Wouldn't dream of it, sir," replied Shutat stiffly. He loathed the DC; it was his private conviction that the Headmaster used them as a means to vent his frustration on students he didn't like. And the Almasy antipathy toward mageborn was legendary; it was, in fact, the primary reason his mother had been so vehemently against his coming to Balamb.

"Good lad," Omar nodded as Naia handed back her signed contract. "Now - we don't have a dock town in Esthar, but the Airstation is open to all ships; we'll get one of the pilots to fly you three that far, and from there on you're on your own." He paused. "I know Shutat's Esthari. Do either of you two know your way around?"

Chugi shrugged. "We learned the 'getting around' part in Geography," he said, "and I can at least make myself understood long enough to say Sorry, I don't speak Esthari. It's not a big part of a Balambese curriculum, seeing as they're technically, you know, the enemy."

"I can speak the language enough to get by," said Naia. "Geography? Buy me a map and I'm fine, but I can't remember the distances very well."

"And yet you passed the Exam," said Omar dryly. "Once you three are gone I'm having a talk with Alois. It's too late to do anything about you people now. Shutat, keep them from being arrested - and you two, do the same for him if and when you leave Esthar." He held out two palm plates, and two envelopes. "Naia, your junction assignment is Carbuncle. Orders regarding its use are in the envelope. Chugi, your junction assignment is Diablos, and orders are in the other envelope. These orders are sealed and confidential - no one is to know the contents unless the stated conditions are met; Griever will relay its own confidential orders to Shutat itself."

The three friends exchanged startled looks - Shutat not least, because he'd been given no orders regarding Griever at all. Which meant only one of them likely had any orders, and the Commander was just making sure no undue suspicion fell on the one who did. Chugi and Naia set their hands to the plates and pocketed their envelopes as the junctions took hold, and Omar then put the plates into a drawer of his desk. "Get down to the Hangar; I'll make sure a pilot's waiting for you, " he said, and paused. "Oh - one more thing. You're under contract to Garden for this mission. You're nobody's enemy. Don't start any wars, don't break any laws, and for Hyne's sake don't get yourselves caught. Garden will pay for your release if we get word of your capture, but the press won't be pretty. Get going."

* * *

The three friends were silent on their flight out of the Garden - not least because there wasn't much in the way of soundproofing on their jet. Chugi and Naia both seemed pretty well pleased with the destination; they'd tried to get Shutat to agree to shore leave in Esthar several times, but he had refused.

You two have no idea, he thought, watching them play Triple Triad on a worktop. It wasn't something he'd wanted to make a big deal of, but Esthari mageborn had a dislike of SeeD that bordered on the irrational. It wasn't universal, of course - very few things with mageborn could be said to be universal - but it was strongly prevalent, especially in the older families. His mother regarded SeeD as being nothing more than a group of nicely dressed hit men; if he'd taken shore leave in Esthar while a cadet she'd have taken every bruise received in training and turned it into an issue of major concern.

Do the mageborn fight the SeeD? inquired Griever.

Not...officially. But people have been known to disappear if they wander too far into the wrong places, or too far away from home.

Griever didn't reply, but Shutat got an impression of overwhelming disapproval. There was to be no fighting. That was the agreement.

Shutat frowned. As I was taught, the wording was 'there is to be no war'. It's not a war. I'd call it more of a feud, really. Or a feud in waiting, since we don't go looking for SeeDs...

"Shu," said Chugi, shaking his shoulder. "Get up. We're here. At least we don't need you to do translations - they've got signs in every language, even Galbadian."

He got up and grabbed his bag, grateful for an excuse to tune out the guest in his mind. Esthar was home, even if he'd never been out of Tears' Point before joining SeeD. That meant once he set foot off the jet, he was home.

The Airstation was the single largest center of aviation in the world - though most of its business was now international travelers, as the inter-city rail had been completed centuries ago. Due to the peculiarities of Esthari government, Shutat went through a different inspection than his companions. He was no longer a citizen of Esthar, being SeeD, but he was still a mageborn. Esthar's solution to the situation was a strict segregation - human visitors processed one way, mageborn another. There were far fewer mageborn than there were humans, both worldwide and present in the Airstation, so he ended up spending a while in an anteroom while Chugi and Naia got through the paperwork.

"Boy, you'd think we'd come to blow up the Presidential Palace," grumbled Chugi as he and Naia finally approached. "And I hope those forms made more sense in Esthari than they did in trade."

"Got your visas?" Shutat asked, holding up his own. "Things will get interesting from here on in."

"Interesting?" asked Naia. She kept looking around with a wide-eyed tourist's expression. Only in Esthar did one see electronics and technology rendered into art. "Interesting how?"

"Everything is separate here," he said. "I know you two are used to mageborn and humans talking to each other. That's not the way it is here. Let me do the talking." Rising, he shouldered his bag. "First, we need to get on a train to the Sorceress' Memorial. That's an hour long trip, but it's the Ways I'm worried about." He stopped, considering his friends' uniforms. "Actually, it'll go better if you two get out of those. I'll have to deal with my people, who may or may not know me, but they're guaranteed to make trouble if they know you're SeeD."

"Trouble?" asked Chugi. "What kind of trouble? Fights?"

"Depends," Shuat replied with a shrug. "Trains could suddenly be booked. Assistants may suddenly remember it's time for their break and lose their watches. Understanding of trade tongue or Balambese could hit new lows. It's better they just don't know. We're not here to change the world."

"Mageborn can't lie," Naia pointed out. "So if one says a train is booked, it is."

Shutat sighed. "Trains are routinely overbooked to account for no-shows," he said. "They often have seats available right up to the last minute - but on the computer, they're full up. Technically true, completely misleading. Trust me, Naia. Get into street clothes."

Chugi shrugged. "You're the boss," he said. "But anybody takes a swing at me and I'll teach 'em why you don't do that to a Dincht."

"Fair," agreed Shutat. "Now be quick. We've got to get on the Ways to get to the railway station from here."

He waited, picking up a tourist map and looking it over while his companions changed; SeeD uniforms were great for getting through customs lines, but generally a hindrance beyond them. SeeD was an international organization; cadets and SeeDs surrendered citizenship in whatever land they'd come from to join. Which didn't change their sympathies all that much, but it made a great deal of difference when traveling. As civilians, Naia might have gotten into Esthar - she was from Winhill, which remained an unaligned state. But Chugi was from Balamb, and that was part of the Galbadian empire. Here, that would have meant he was an enemy.

Not that he wouldn't startle people, Shutat reflected as his friend came back out. Chugi had short, flame red hair he kept in buzzed spikes, and gray eyes that looked all the more pale on the left side of his face, where his family's blackflame tattoo dominated his features. Short and wiry, these things alone would have made him stand out among the taller, fairer Esthari. But Chugi favored bold, vivid colors when not in uniform - in this case, black, royal blue, and blood red in stylized tiger stripes - and Shutat had to wonder whether maybe the uniform would have been less conspicuous after all. Chugi favored loose clothes - drawstring sweatpants and oversized t-shirts - that didn't interfere with his freedom of movement; like most of his family, Chugi was a martial artist. That would stand him in good stead with the mageborn of Esthar, Shutat knew, but it wouldn't help Naia. He'd managed to get through all of his cadet training without cluing Chugi in on the leeway his family name earned him with mageborn, and he preferred to save that little nugget for a better moment than asking for directions. Naia had noted that Chugi was given leeway, but it was easy to guess that the tattoo, rather than the name it signified, was the reason.

Naia was also a martial artist, and so favored loose clothing, but when she came out she didn't look anywhere near as obvious. The fashions of Winhill were unique; Naia wore a tunic of a dusky pinkish gray over red lycra leggings, in shades that complemented her light brown hair and darker brown eyes. The style was Winhilli, but at least the colors were pale enough not to draw much attention. Shutat himself did not need to worry; he was too obviously mageborn, with the blue tint in his curls, for anyone but his own kind to care what he wore.

"Okay, we're street legal," said Chugi. "And man, it's starting to feel like shore leave already." Adjusting his bag on his shoulder, he gestured with his free hand. "Which way?"

Shutat handed the map to Naia. "I've never actually been through Esthar City before," he admitted. "But it's supposed to be the template for the other cities, and I've ridden Ways before." He started walking down one of the halls. "There's supposed to be a Waystation just outside. We'll take that to the train depot and get tickets to Sorceress' Memorial."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Naia, opening and refolding the map to the relevant section as they walked. "What're we doing at the Memorial?"

"We're going to try and find out whether any of the GFs that have appeared in the past five hundred years had anything in common," said Shutat, "that might lead us to the white SeeD. The Sorceress' Memorial was built to study Sorceresses. It's got the oldest and most complete archives in the world."

Chugi clucked - then chuckled as an Esthari couple saw him coming and quickly changed their course. "Gotta admit, it's fun scaring people bigger than me," he said. "Don't these people get out at all?"

Shutat shrugged as they stepped out of the Airstation and into the sunlight. Esthar City was a marvel of modern technology, with the best internal public transportation system in the world. The people, though, were in their way as strange to him as they were to his friends. Esthar City was a financial and business hub, its citizens mostly cubicle workers doing nine to five jobs or at least some general semblance of them. Tears' Point, where Shutat had grown up, was a much smaller and more alert community, mostly populated by intellectuals, artists, and scientists. He found the capital sterile and more than a little unappealing.

The Ways had been designed long, long ago, but their systems were regularly updated and upgraded so that they were always the best they could be. Chugi laughed at the idea of riding on a disc, while Naia thought it was extremely lazy to build a machine to carry you where your legs would do just as well. She maintained that opinion until Shutat directed her attention to the scale of the map she was looking at; it was nearly thirty miles to the depot from the Airstation. While they could hike that distance, it wasn't practical to do so. Esthar City was the capital of an empire that covered half the globe. It filled that role perfectly.

The Ways were half public transportation, half art in motion. The supports for the transparent tubes had been worked and reworked over the years into various themes, so that a true City native could tell where he or she was along the route simply by identifying the patterns, even late at night. The Way-tubes themselves often did not take direct routes, but sported curving scenic views - in some cases spiraling up the taller buildings to provide broad panoramic vistas to travelers before arcing gently earthward again. To compensate for this roundabout motion, there were four hours every day when the Way-chairs went at double and quadruple speed to accommodate hurried businessmen who'd already seen the views a thousand times and only wanted to get to work on time. Those hours were at the beginning and ending of the day, though, so Shutat and his friends were able to chose a disc sized for three and take a leisurely tour of Esthar-from-above.

"Man, it's a government funded roller coaster ride," Chugi laughed, leaning forward in his seat to watch the City roll by under his feet. "And free! How the hell do they pay for it?"

Shutat shrugged. "I think it's mostly self maintaining," he offered. "It was originally built hundreds of years ago - the time of the Sorceress Adel's rule, I think. I'm not sure. I doubt that people quibbled about cost with a Sorceress breathing down their neck. After the borders opened, and during the expansion, taxes from tourists and new provinces paid the bills...and these days I think it brings in more than it costs to maintain. You don't have to pay to ride it, but because it's just here in Esthar City, people come from all over the world to do just that - ride it. And while they're here, they buy things and do things and everyone's happy."

"So how do you get around the other cities, then?" asked Naia, as they floated up the side of a building.

"I haven't been to most of the other cities," Shutat reminded them again. "But in Tears' Point, we used moving walkways for the most part. At least in the human neighborhoods. Mageborn don't generally bother - there's no way you'd ever get a mageborn community to agree on the speed."

"Point," agreed Chugi, and Naia nodded. Both of them well knew how strange such groups could be.

The Ways were built by President Loire, said Griever all at once. Not Adel. Adel was insane; civic improvements were not her style.

Shutat blinked, and suppressed an urge to flinch - he was not used to there being thoughts in his head that weren't his. Loire...Loire...you do realize I'm terrible at history, right?

President. Laguna. Loire, said Griever, and Squall's flat tones were dominating over Rinoa's more melodic speech. He rebuilt Esthar after the Sorceress Wars, roughly thirty years before the Pride.

Oh, thought Shutat. Those Sorceress Wars. There was another, rather bigger one, about two hundred years later. He looked around at the skyscrapers of the City as they passed. I guess it wasn't here.

No, agreed Griever. The Wars you are thinking of mostly took place in Trabia.

Hm. Not sure what relevance any of the facts might have, but deciding they sounded interesting, he mentioned Griever's remarks to his companions.

Naia grinned. "You must've slept through history," she teased. "I remembered the Sorceress Wars. Of course, it's a little more personal. Winhill built the Wall around then."

"That was when we had to give in, too," Chugi said sadly. "Let Galbadia take its tax chunk out of Balamb." He perked up a little. "Not that they've ever gotten much good out of it!" He smacked his fist into his palm gleefully; martial arts were a Balambese craze, and it had been a severe shock to Galbadian tax collectors to find that eight year old children frequently knew enough in the way of such arts to knock a Galbadian soldier on his backside.

The saucer they rode began slowing, and dipped out of the main tube. As it settled to the ground the three friends rose and stepped off of it, so that it could return to its programmed rest/recharge zone.

The central railway station of Esthar City was, for the most part, underground, with only the peripheral services found above the surface. Like many of Esthar's more modern buildings, it sported two entrances - one at ground level, and one on its low roof. Mageborn were often attracted to cities where their particular gifts would be welcome; in Esthar's case it was the wind-gifted, the Pandemona-born, who turned up most often - attracted to the Airstation as bees were to honey. But the wind-gifts were claustrophobic; the rooftop of the railway station was therefore designed only for brief stops - a Pandemona-gift dropping off a friend or relative, say. Shutat knew the phobia to be no joke; his mother was a wind-gift, and while she could and often did give the impression of fearing nothing, he'd never once seen her set foot into any underground structure - natural or artificial. At times he'd fantasized about hiding in caves, knowing that his mother would never come after him then. Not that Esthar had many caves to explore. Still, the sight of the station did serve to remind him; he was not going to be too far from Tears' Point, and he needed properly warm SeeD uniforms. He should call his mother, and have her meet him at Sorceress' Memorial.

The only snag would be his companions; his mother was quite traditional, and the idea of her son socializing with 'human hit men' would likely send her into one of her tirades. Chugi and Naia didn't need to see that. He resolved to wait - they'd need to overnight at the Memorial anyway. It would be dark before they even arrived. He paid for their tickets and pocketed the receipts; if there was one advantage to his particular gift, it was that he rarely ran out of pocket space.

"This is a regional station, right?" asked Naia, taking in the sheer size of the place. "Not a hub?"

"Not a hub," Shutat agreed. "But it has to handle the volume of people who work here, so..." he shrugged, then pointed. "Track 18. That's the one we want - Sorceress Memorial, express."

"We paid more for an express?" asked Chugi. "Screw getting reimbursed for that."

"Same price," grinned Shutat. "Just means no having to share with the commuters. Or about half the tourists who had the same idea you did."

Naia laughed. "Friendly native guide!"

Shutat rolled his eyes. "Just you remember to return the favor if and when we're on the other side of the ocean."

"Done," agreed Chugi. "But we're gonna have to do something about your hair, Shu - oh, damn, you Esthari travel in style, dontcha?"

The train was stainless steel, kept clean so it gleamed even in the station lighting. Inside the train was a collection of small cubicles that seated four each, with a table for playing cards or reading and comfortably upholstered seats. Shutat slung his bag into the unoccupied seat and sat down. "It's just a train, Chugi."

"Sure, you say that now," said Chugi, following suit and sliding into an opposite seat. "Just you wait until you've got to ride Deling's idea of a train. Cattle car comes right to mind."

Naia took the only seat left, next to Chugi, as her own bag went onto the pile. "How long is the trip?" she asked.

"A few hours," said Shutat. "The express is fast, but Esthar isn't a small empire and as far as I know never has been. For my part I'm going to take a nap. We should arrive sometime past sundown." He pulled the tickets out and showed them to his friends. "Here. The local time's on the wall - you can ask that the usual 'are we there yet' questions."

His friends took their tickets, though they only understood the times; the tickets were printed in Esthari characters, which both Chugi and Naia had trouble reading. He put his own ticket in the holder over his seat, then leaned back on the group's luggage and settled in for a nap.

* * *

He stands in a home - not an apartment, or condominium or townhouse, but a house. People are here, milling about, snacking on crackers and cheese and drinking from crystal bowls; it is a party, though a quiet one. He walks among them, but they pay him no heed.

He hears a cry; a woman in agony. The guests hear it too - for a moment, there is silence. The conversations quickly begin again, but the tone of them is nervous and forced. They are ignoring the woman's pain. He will not. Quickly he walks to a curved staircase, climbs it. The cry came from the second floor.

She is in one of the bedrooms, holding a man's hand in a painful, white-knuckled grip, groaning the quiet groan of someone too far lost in pain and exhaustion for volume. Another cry suddenly echoes, on a rising note - and the doctor raises a baby. He clears its lungs, gives it to a waiting woman who cleans off blood and wraps it warmly.

He walks over to the baby, curious, and finds it is one of two - the woman has birthed twins.

* * *

Shutat opened his eyes, blinking away the confusion of the dream. What an odd thing to dream about!

What did you dream? asked Griever. Your mind was blank to us; if you dreamed, it must have been a vision.

Just a woman in labor, Shutat replied, bemused. I don't think it's got anything to do with saving the world.

Show us, said Griever. Hold the images in your mind, where we can see.

Shutat did as bidden, trying to clearly picture as much of what he remembered of his dream as possible. It wasn't easy - he tended to forget dreams soon after waking, especially when startled.

It is no place we know, Griever noted after consideration. But the mother is Esthari.

The white hair? asked Shutat, surprised. Yes, I guess she probably is - at least partly. Is it important? I don't recognize any of the styles, but I haven't been everywhere in Esthar either.

Write it down when you can, said Griever. There's no telling at this point if it's important or not, so it's best to record everything.

Will do, Shutat agreed, though he did wonder why. It wasn't as if babies were especially dangerous. Giving up on further sleep, he checked his watch. The train would arrive at Sorceress' Memorial in about fifteen minutes - he needed to wake his friends so they could book a room for the night.

* * *

After a blessedly dreamless sleep in a not-so-blessed hotel at their destination, the three set out for the Archives, using the moving sidewalks most of Esthar preferred. Sorceress' Memorial was considered one of the most mageborn-friendly cities in the empire of Esthar, for a very simple reason. The entire city was dedicated to the study of magic - particularly the magic of Sorceresses. Mageborn weren't particularly welcomed, but because so many of the people were informed about the nature of magic in general, Shutat's kind found it much easier to get along. The city's motto was somewhere between "If you've got it, use it," and "All things in moderation".

Except for learning. The Archives of the city were the most extensive in the world on the subject of Sorceresses - except for, possibly, the confidential files in the Gardens themselves. But Shutat already knew that nothing in SeeD's files would help him find the White SeeD. He had to hope that a clue was here - he had no idea where to look next if there wasn't.

"Um, Shu?" asked Chugi, tugging on his sleeve. "Tell me they speak trade in there?"

"Dragonclaws," Shutat swore. "It never even occurred to me." He stopped, thinking. "The archives themselves I know are in Esthari," he said, and his companions groaned. "But - this place is open to scientists and most of them don't have the time to puzzle out written Esthari. There's got to be translations available. You two can search through those."

"Let's see what they have, first," said Naia. "Before we start panicking." She fished out her SeeD identification. "If they're open to scientists, they're open to SeeD."

"They'd better be," said Chugi, fishing his own identification out of a pocket. "Studying something like Sorceresses, I'd hate to be them if they didn't let SeeD in."

They were admitted, and with a refreshing minimum of fuss and red tape - once their identification was confirmed valid, the archivist on duty simply waved them in the direction of rows of terminals.

The archives were huge. Row after row of steel-reinforced stacks, housing everything from scrolls to specially treated hardcover books. All the records of every Sorceress ever researched were here, from bioscans to newspaper articles to legends.

Chugi took one look at the rows of stacks and immediately headed over to the terminals. "You can search the racks," he said. "I'm gonna stick with the keyboard. There's a better chance I'll find something."

"Same here," agreed Naia, choosing a terminal of her own. "There's no telling what's back there."

Shutat laughed quietly. "Cowards," he teased. "You got through enough essays in Garden."

"By the skin of my teeth," said Chugi, fingers already stabbing at keys. "And no way I'm doing it again so soon if I don't have to. We'll give you a heads-up if we find something we want to see hard copy of. Meet back here for lunch?"

"Sure," Shutat agreed, checking his watch. He pulled out a small cell phone and turned it on. "Use yours to get me - easier and quieter than shouting." He grinned. "But Hyne help you if the archivist hears it ring!"

* * *

Chugi and Naia had an entertaining morning searching through the electronic archives. Although the electronic archives were translated into every major language, they weren't always translated well, and the two of them had fun translating some of the more amusing passages from their own native tongues to the trade language employed by SeeD and comparing notes.

The Archives were extensive, but not perfect; few Sorceresses allowed themselves to be studied - and in many cases there were huge gaps in the records as Sorceresses left media sight, or contradictory accounts. It was slow going, trying to track down even fairly recent news of Sorceresses that could be considered reliable. They barely looked up when a short and rather roundish woman with straight white hair entered the Archives. It was Esthar, after all, and nobles had as much right to access the data as anyone else.

Then Naia looked up and said, "Did someone turn a fan on?"

Chugi, his train of thought derailed, blinked. "Fan?" he asked. Looking at the steel beams of the high roof, he said, "No fans in here."

"Then that woman was a mageborn," said Naia. "Because I felt a breeze just now."

"So?" asked Chugi, puzzled. "They can read, too."

"Wind gift with white hair, here, today," said Naia. "Not ringing any bells? Like maybe telephone bells?"

Chugi's jaw dropped. "He wouldn't. He knows we wanted to meet his folks, that's cheating!"

"Come on," said Naia, getting to her feet. "I want to find out where that woman went."

"Coming," agreed Chugi, doing the same.

It wasn't hard to track them - the Archive was a quiet place, and even soft voices carried. And the woman wasn't speaking all that softly - her voice hissed and snapped through the harsh syllables of the Esthari tongue, clearly angry. The two friends exchanged bemused glances when they heard Shutat's more resigned-sounding replies.

"He's really catching it," whispered Naia. "I can't understand all of it, but I think she's chewing him out about us."

"Like hell I'm putting up with that," said Chugi at a more normal volume, and both voices silenced as he and Naia rounded the stack to confront them.

Shutat was sitting before a table stacked with several books and newspapers, and the short woman had her hands on her hips and was glaring at him with Pandemona purple-yellow-swirled eyes.

"Hello," he greeted his friends ruefully. "This is my mother, Miranda of Pandemona."

Chugi looked ready to tell the woman to lay off his friend, but Naia stepped forward and said, "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. I'm Naia Moasi, of Winhill."

The mageborn didn't so much as smile, instead turning to look at her son as she snapped something in Esthari. Shutat's ghost-white cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"She says..." he sighed, and took a deep breath. "She says you are a discredit to your city, and if you had any sense you'd go back to Winhill and stay there."

Naia's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "And who is she to tell me what is and is not a credit to my city?" she asked mildly. "Shutat, we've got work to do. Why is she even here? You said you came from Tears' Point?"

"I called her," Shutat admitted as his mother started tapping her foot impatiently. "From the room, last night." He shrugged. "I need SeeD uniforms that are warm enough for me - I've always gotten them from a tailor my mother knows. Only...I wasn't planning on staying a SeeD, you see, just passing my test and going home. She's mad at me because I haven't."

Miranda rapped out another string of quick words, tapping a fingernail on the table where Shutat had piled his findings.

Chugi turned to Naia and said, "I don't know about you, but if she doesn't calm down I'm all for calling security on her. Since we're not supposed to do that ourselves."

"Don't," Shutat said quickly. "And she does understand you, so watch yourselves. She just doesn't want to talk to you." He winced as his mother snapped out something else, then turned to her and started speaking very quickly, almost pleading.

Chugi slanted a look at Naia. "Do I wanna know?" he asked.

She shrugged. "They're both talking way too fast for me," she admitted. "But I think she's mad about more than him not quitting SeeD after graduation. I think she wants to know what we're doing, what our mission is, and he won't tell her."

"Damn right he's not," said Chugi firmly. "That's confidential! I don't get to tell my mom, either." He grinned. "Boy, bet she won't believe me when I tell her there's people with worse manners than the Dinchts, though. Mageborn on our island are a lot more polite."

That won him a sudden sharp gust that made Shutat shiver. Miranda rapped out one more tirade, then stalked off. Shutat sighed, putting gloved hands to his cheeks as if to warm them. "Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "She's kind of a separatist. I was hoping to keep her away from you two."

"Ashamed of your human friends?" asked Naia mildly.

"No!" Shutat protested. "It's just...my mother's kind of volatile." At Chugi's bland is that so expression, he made a face. "Okay, really volatile. Dad was the only one that ever managed to calm her down, and he's been dead for years. Since then she's had nothing to do with humans of any kind." He indicated his pile of books. "Did you guys have any better luck?"

Chugi shrugged. "I found at least one documented pairing," he said. "The records have a gap, but the time frame is right - I think they became a GF."

"I found the one that ended the last Sorceress War," said Naia. "That one, we know became a GF - it's all here, just as we were taught in Containment."

"That's two," said Shutat. "I think I might have the pairs for all six in the last five hundred years since Garden's rising." He grinned and tapped the side of his head. "Or rather, all seven - Griever's one of the more recent ones, too. But I already know Griever isn't going to lead us anywhere. It's as clueless about the White SeeD as we are."

Naia had to stifle a laugh as Shutat suddenly winced. "Griever doesn't like being called clueless?" she asked sweetly.

"You could say that," he replied, pained. "But enough about me, all right? Go get what you dug up, and we'll cross check against these records."

Chugi and Naia quickly jogged back to their terminals and printed out their results. Shutat made room at his table for them, and said, "Okay. Naia, you first."

"Why?" she asked. "We know that Tiamat has nothing to do with the White SeeD. Ria and Kain were SeeDs; Ria took the power from the Sorceress Callista at the end of the last Sorceress war, and chose Kain for her Knight - just the way we're taught to do. The two worked within the Garden as SeeD Sorceress and Knight for another fifty years before Joining into Tiamat - proving the theory of GF creation."

Shutat was flipping through pages, nodding. "Okay - got it. My own records stopped with Callista, and for the life of me I couldn't bring her successor to mind." He set one of the books aside. "Okay. That's one, and one we know not to bother with. Five more chances. Chugi?"

The redhead grinned and plunked a decently sized printout in front of his friend. "Just about beginning to end - Sorceress Chang and the Knight Marrok, right here in Esthar a hundred years ago. Serious headlines."

"Chang...Marrok..." muttered Shutat, picking up another book. "Nope, no luck. When was it again?"

"About a century ago," said Chugi, trying to read over Shutat's shoulder. Unfortunately the pages were all neat, vertical rows of Esthari characters.

"Ah, that helps," nodded Shutat, and picked up another book. "Okay - I'd say they became the GF called Fenrir. It fits the timeline - does it fit what you have?"

"Yep," Chugi nodded. "Marrok of Pandemona."

"Of Pandemona?" Shutat blinked. "He was mageborn?"

"Oh, yeah," Chugi agreed. "That's why the headlines. If he'd had any deadlier a gift I think Esthar would've had a kill on sight order on them. As it is, I think they Joined early out of danger of being shot. Fenrir's a hider."

"And when the White SeeD split from the Black, it was over a Sorceress with a mageborn Knight," Shutat mused. "That's...strange."

Naia was checking through her printouts. "Hey...I didn't manage to match these up with GFs, but the pairings I have are Sorceresses with mageborn, too. I'd say the only GF that isn't made up that way is Tiamat - and maybe Griever."

"Griever's Knight isn't mageborn," Shutat confirmed quickly, sensing the ire from his junction. "So...out of seven GFs in the past five hundred years, five of them had mageborn Knights?"

"Beyond weird," agreed Chugi. "I mean, it's not like there's a lot of you guys - where do mageborn live around here, anyway? I haven't seen more than a handful since we left Garden."

"Apart," said Shutat absently, studying the printouts. "In Esthar we build our own neighborhoods, pretty much keep to ourselves. A lot of the communities are walled and gated to keep the punks out. We could handle them, but it's easier on everyone if they just can't get to us." He tapped one of the books. "Griever, Tiamat, Fenrir, Phantom, Unicorn, Seraphim, and Golem. Those are the new seven. Think it's important we match the GFs with their pairings? Because I think we've got the clue we came for."

"Do we?" asked Naia, surprised. "We probably could have found all of this in Garden's databanks if we'd looked hard enough."

Shutat grinned. "Not that one point though," he said. "Not that they were mageborn. I'm sure I would have remembered being taught about that. Because now I know where we need to go next."

"Where?" she blinked, then smacked herself on the forehead. "Of course! Winhill!"

"Winhill?" asked Chugi. "What's there?"

"See this?" Shutat asked, waving at the Archives all around them. "In Winhill, there's something a lot like this - only just for my kind. The Catacombs have records of every mageborn who's ever lived. All we need are their names and about when they lived, and we can get a lot more detail there than we would here."

"But if it's that easy," asked Chugi, "Why didn't somebody else do it before now?"

Shutat rolled his eyes. "Because of people like my mother," he said. "There's a lot of things we don't talk about with humans, Chugi. The Catacombs is just for us, the records there just for us. Any SeeD that so much as tried to poke a toe in would go missing."

"Um," said Chugi, raising a finger. "That'd mean Naia and me, too. I'm not big on the idea of disappearing."

"You won't," reassured Shutat. "Because you're my friends, and you're going with me. At last the Commander's reasoning is starting to make sense. He really does need me." He grinned. "Bet my mother will never believe it."

"Bet she calls you traitor," Chugi warned. "If it's like you say, mageborn only..."

Shutat stilled, suddenly very serious. "Chugi...let me worry about it. You and Naia are my friends, and I don't think there's any harm in showing you...I guess you'd call it 'my world' but I don't recall signing up for it. The Commander gave me a mission, and I think it's worth doing. I think it's worth more than traditions that might be doing my people more harm than good at this point. You're not the remorseless hit men my mother thinks you are..." he sighed. "At least, not yet. I guess we've got time for that. But here and now is what I've got to work with - and here and now, you two need to know and I need to trust you. So - leave the whole secrets thing to me, and keep what you learn to yourself, and we're fine. The Commander just wants the White and Black reunited. We don't have to tell him every blessed secret of the mageborn, right?"

"Nice to know you're sure we're going to become remorseless hit men," noted Naia archly. "I should tell the Commander to point me at those helpless babies, I need practice!"

"I'm sorry," sighed Shutat. "It's hard to shake off everything you've been taught in one go - and SeeD is nothing like I was led to believe."

"Should we be going there?" asked Chugi, picking up the printouts. "I know what you mean, anyway, and I've got a good third of my family in SeeD. I had no idea how much they weren't telling me about it. And probably more we're too green to know yet."

"Yes," Shutat agreed, relieved. "Exactly. Just...I keep having to choose which is more important, my people or SeeD, and I keep getting shoved right down the center - I have to be both or we won't get anywhere. You two are going to get some of that, too - I have to ask you not to talk to the Commander about the things you see. He just wants to know that we're making progress. He doesn't need to know how."

Naia cocked her head at him. "You aren't the only one keeping secrets," she admitted. "But mine can wait, for now. I'll keep your secrets if you keep mine."

"I'm starting to feel majorly left out here," said Chugi, blinking. "I don't think I've got any secrets."

"Good one of us can get away with it, then," grinned Shutat. "Come on. Let's get all the names we can, and then - off to the trains again. We can sleep on the way."