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A few seconds ago, Seifer had been twenty years old with a scar across his face and in the kitchen of a magical island cooking a pie. A few seconds ago.
Now things were somewhat different. He was, from anyone looking at him from the outside in at least, much younger and his childish face was still un-scarred. And he was sitting in the cabin of a boat along side three other figures all of whom, including himself were wearing the same uniform. And, instead of a pie he had a weapon.
A very familiar weapon. He drew it slowly from it's sheath and stared at the gun-blade shimmering under the artificial lights for a second.
"Huh."
Guess some things were harder to shake then he'd thought.
Now things were somewhat different. He was, from anyone looking at him from the outside in at least, much younger and his childish face was still un-scarred. And he was sitting in the cabin of a boat along side three other figures all of whom, including himself were wearing the same uniform. And, instead of a pie he had a weapon.
A very familiar weapon. He drew it slowly from it's sheath and stared at the gun-blade shimmering under the artificial lights for a second.
"Huh."
Guess some things were harder to shake then he'd thought.
