A CHRONICLE OF EVENTS, PART ONE.
JULY 12, 2001."You're Edea, right? Edea Kramer?"
Edea turns to see a young man in a dark suit smiling over at her from one table over. He waves as if she isn't looking directly at him, and then looks at his hand sheepishly. She smiles.
"I am," she says. "Have we met?"
"Oh--oh, no--well, maybe!" he laughs, rubbing his neck. "I've been following your work. You and your husband's, with the Garden program."
Edea dips her head in acknowledgment. "Are you a SeeD graduate?"
"Me?" He laughs again and takes a drink of water. "No. No, I missed the cutoff for enrollment at Midgarden. May I?" he adds, standing up and gesturing at the empty seat at her table. "Your husband isn't joining you, is he?"
Edea hesitates--
Midgar--but lifts her hand graciously at the chair. The man smiles gratefully and, picking up his paper and briefcase with a clumsiness that sends red all up his neck and ears, scrambles between their tables and into the seat.
( Edea can't place his age. At first she would have said no older than twenty, but now that he's closer, she can see the beginnings of smile lines around his mouth, and dark circles under his eyes. Twenty-five, perhaps. )
LAST NIGHT, AT SHIN-RA HQ.
"Ambassador," President Shinra says. He makes no move to rise when his secretary ushers her into the room, bowing with his eyes lowered before quickly shutting the door behind them. The room is quiet. A small electric fountain gurgles on Shinra's desk, all smooth, wet stones and elegantly manicured bonzai trees. The rest of the room is decorated in harsh greys and opulent reds, Shin-Ra colors--the fountain seems almost out of place. The president gestures at the arm chair seated in front of his desk with a smile, and Edea glides soundlessly across the marble floor. "I hope Midgar has been a pleasant visit for you so far, Ambassador," he says when she sits down.
"Mm," Edea says, pleasantly enough.
The fountain trickles water over stones. President Shinra smiles across the massive brown desk, his mouth smug and secure. He folds his hands on his desk blotter. "And Balamb? Very--peaceful community."
Edea smiles, a brief flick upward of one corner of her mouth.
( 'You might be surprised.' )
and the blood runs crazy with giant strides.
WHO: Seifer Almasy & Sorceress Edea.
WHAT: A chance encounter and a prelude.
WHEN: Fairly recently, before she leaves for Midgar.
WHERE: In the school hallways.
STATUS: Unfinished.
Her outfits were less ludicrous when she wasn’t on public display – they were at their most ostentatious when standing at a lectern and giving widely-broadcasted speeches, the golden-spiked arch on her shoulders trebling the woman’s size and turning her intimidating, forbidding.
Less ludicrous, then, in her daily wanderings around Balamb Garden. But still noticeable. Sorceress Edea was clad in all black, the hem of her dress sweeping along the concrete walkways yet seemingly never accruing dirt or dust or mud, her neckline fringed with a fur ruff despite the summer heat. Not a single drop of sweat on her forehead and her skin was still pale as snow, without a single blush warming her cheeks. Her hair never drifted out of its tight, coiling bun (with its tendrils that looked, unnervingly, like snakes).
He wondered if she used magic for that. To never look unkempt or bedraggled, no matter the circumstances.
Leaning against the wall and watching the ambassador pass, the entire world seemed to slow down a little. Seifer tilted his head, watching Edea continue across the wide open concourse of Balamb’s entrance, between the fountains and the long, sleek benches. He hadn’t sought her out much since her arrival at the Garden, despite the deep yearning to. He was just some punk-ass cadet and she was Sorceress Edea. She looked like she’d stepped right out of the spheres (or more accurately, one particular sphere, dusty and cracked and stashed in his collection). What would he possibly have to say to her? Nothing of value.
But there was no harm in watching and looking, was there? (Perhaps Rinoa would be like this someday – tall and black and forbidding – yet that was a thought for another day.)
He watched her pass, green eyes narrowed slightly.
Five minutes. Five more minutes, and then he’d head to lunch.