A/N: The time is 4:43 a.m. here… Please bear with my late-night (or early morning, better) surge of supposed creativity.

Why 'Empty'? Because it describes both Seifer's inner and outer 'environment' at the time when it takes place (speaking of which, it takes place somewhere in between the events of Disk 2 in the game). And if I'm not mistaken, that was my crappy attempt on symbolism :-p

Material that addresses mature audiences follows. You've already been warned by the rating, but I thought I'd also repeat it myself.

I'm not very happy with this… But I wanted to post it anyway. See if anyone has any suggestions to perhaps make it better.

Feedback and only constructive criticism are, of course, greatly appreciated.

DISCLAIMER: Seifer and Edea? Squaresoft's. I only wish they were mine…


                                                                                                          By Sickness in Salvation


…Poor, poor boy…

I roll around in bed.

Such a confused little boy. Are you going to step forward? Retreat? You have to decide.

The 'voice'… It never lets me rest…

The boy in you is telling you to come. The adult in you is telling you to back off.

You can't make up your mind. You don't know the right answer.

The dream is always the same…

You want help, don't you? You want to be saved from this predicament.

Don't be ashamed to ask for help. Besides, you're only a little boy.

"I'm not… Stop calling me a boy." I mutter, eyes still closed, not knowing if I'm awake or sleeping.

You don't want to be a boy anymore?

"I am not a BOY!" I yell, now jolting up from the bed, soaked in sweat.

The last words she uttered to me before I blindly followed her on that fateful day, still echo within the walls of my mind, even though I've awakened.

Come with me to a place of no return. Bid farewell to your childhood.

I look around me, bewildered.

The pale moonlight creeps into the dark room, filtered by the dark, silky curtains. The eerie silence spreads all over the chamber once again, after my scream resonates through the dark halls of my 'prison' and disappears into thin air.

But it never abandons the depths of my mind.

The soft sheets cling onto my hips, covering the nudity of my lower body.

I turn over to the side of my bed, but I already know what my gaze will meet with.


Just like it always is.

The vacant side of the mattress is still imprinted by the weight of her body, covers slightly wrinkled. And she's already gone, just as easily as she came. Just as easily as she came every night.

I sigh deeply and cover my face with both palms, falling unceremoniously back onto the mattress.

                                                                                                                                                      ~ *  ~

I am the Sorceress's Knight.


I'm anything but her Knight.

I am her slave, her toy, her puppet to command with a single whisper. She orders, I abide. As simple as that. I don't question. I never dare to question.

My dream…


Broken into a million pieces the moment I realized what my true position was.

When she first came to me, mystifying and thrillingly ominous, I resisted. Although deep down, I knew it was futile.

I was spellbound by her, the moment her intoxicating aura filled the room. And I knew that I was going to succumb and follow her, no matter what logic screamed back at me.

Come with me to a place of no return. Bid farewell to your childhood.

And I did.

I left all my memories behind, all my worries. I closed my eyes and took her hand.

Her long, slender, gloved fingers encased my palm and pulled my consciousness into a trance, a dream.

The most exhilarating dream I could ever imagine.

I was worshipped next to her, heaved out of anonymity with a mere choice.

I had purchased my ticket for a ride on the train to glory and was feeling the air breeze into my hair as its journey began in delirious tempo.


I felt it inside me as I leered down the crowds who applauded us.

Pitiful, pathetic forms of life, cheering me and my Goddess on.

I thought I was better than them, because the ethereal presence standing behind me, had chosen yours truly to promise her no harm would come her way, as long as I vowed to stand by her side.

I was wrong.

I didn't realize it until I turned my eyes to lock upon hers, wanting to share my enthusiasm for the admiration I was receiving.

Her amber gaze set upon mine.

And then I felt it.

A warm, relaxing surge of energy, sponged dry by my every cell, filling me to the core.

My vision grew hazy. The crowds slowly became nothing but a blur to me. A canvas; full of vivid, vibrant colors, fusing with each other, becoming one great fluorescent mass. I felt more alive than I ever had in my entire, young life.

And at the same time, emptier than ever.

All will was drawn from within me and before I knew it, I was brought to face my life-long rival.

The words, caustic and arrogant, escaped my lips without any effort. I was the one speaking them, but somehow, it was someone else as well.

The battle came inevitably.

My first battle to protect the woman I had sworn to follow. I wanted to impress her. Show her that her choice had proven to be wise. But my focus was drawn from the conflict, as the shadow that was once my conscience clouded my ability to see, think, act straight.

I failed.

 I am the Sorceress's Knight.

Many will say that I'm merely making up excuses to throw the blame on someone else's shoulders; anyone's except for mine.

That's not true.

I'm the only one to blame.

I could have walked away the moment I was given the first opportunity.

But I didn't.

I lay there, feeling the stinging imprint of her hand upon my face, her spells binding my body. Suffocating, tormenting me.

A punishment for my failure.

Her sudden change of disposition should have been and was a wake-up call. A voice of reason, whispering to me frantically to end it all, escape.

And I momentarily intended to.

My eyes, full of hurt and astonishment, lay upon hers. And I could have sworn that I caught glimpse of a hint of sorrow and regret over her actions.

Whichever the case was, it ceased her actions.

Her expression became distant once more, but something within her gaze bemused me.

It was a strange look the one she was giving me. Almost… provocative.

She approached me, kneeling down next to me on the cold floor, taking my face into her palms. She muttered an apology and trailed a finger down my cheek. My eyelids grew heavy and I felt that familiar relaxing sensation take over me once again.

Her lips descended on mine.

What little logic was left within me, urged me to try and pull back, only to be drawn in again, more firmly.

A weak whimper of protest came out of my lips, but it soon died down as the shadow replaced my conscience once more and I felt my back make contact with the floor.

Very few memories stick to mind from that night, but their vividness still makes it seem like it was only yesterday.

Hungry lips, cascading from my lips to my neck. Surprisingly strong hands, ripping my clothes apart, leaving me bare. Slender, clawed fingers running down my body in slithering, snake-like movements. A scorching tongue, leaving a moist trail onto my chest, steadily going lower and lower. And lower.

I gasped, eyes rolling back to their sockets.

Something told me this was wrong, oh-so-very-wrong, but why stop? Why stop, when every single inch of me feels the need to go on? But I feel compelled to wonder, now that I've achieved a clearer state of mind: Did I really want to go on? Or was I forced to?

Meanwhile, I felt her slick, nude body cover mine, lips sealing in wet heat once more. Our bodies merged into one among a flurry of sighs and moans and I felt more lost than ever. I didn't comprehend what was happening but I didn't stop it either. I couldn't.

Her long black hair caressed my arms, the only soft touch in this fervent embrace, as hands roughly roamed over skin, feeling, grasping, grazing.

I let out a low hiss.

Her sharp nails left deep cuts on their wake, as she moved like a feline on top of me, scarring my skin.

Scarring my soul.   

I awoke alone.

Not knowing what I'd done, not knowing how or when it had ended.

Only feeling pain.

Pain, as I ran my fingers onto the still fresh blemishes on my arms, chest and ribs.


But my body was of little concern to me right then. What made me cover my face in shame and weep, was the wound in my heart and pride.

What had happened to me?

                                                                                                                                                      ~ *  ~

That night may still infect my mind and body and I'm afraid it always will, but I have to put the past aside now.

And concentrate on the future.

I chuckle nervously.

Do I even have a future?

Is there any hope left for me, or did it drown away on that one day when I took my first step into darkness?

I don't know the difference between right and wrong anymore.

Countless nights I've woken up, blood staining my hands and clothes, while a great blank resides in the place where my more recent recollections should be.

Countless nights I've woken up, feeling fresh scars marring my skin and flashes of damp, ecstatic, -but more importantly- disturbing moments, only shortly before.

Just like now.

I can't exactly remember when it first was that I discovered my age-old bond with her.

Somehow, I always knew it. It always rested, creeping into a dark corner of my mind, waiting for the perfect opportunity to arise from the shadows and rip me apart.

And one day 'it' finally did emerge.

And it finally did rip me apart. Shattered the one, tiny bit of respect I still had for myself.

One word raced into my head, burning, stinging, repulsive.


No words can describe my emotional wreck of a soul when I realized it.

The one woman I could ever consider a mother, the one woman that had ever shown to me the affection a child craves for, is the woman that uses me every night.

The woman that makes me feel cheap, useless, disgraceful, with the way she touches and wounds me.

And Hyne, I am allowing it.

Allowing her form to slither upon mine and please herself, as she cuts me deeper and deeper with every contact.

I disgust myself.

My mind goes crazy even at the attempt of thinking this through.

I've long ago lost control, lost the essence of my dream.

I can't even remember what my dream was in the first place.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

I still follow her, like a lap-dog, bluntly adding one by one more corpses to my body count.

My sword rips through their chests and hearts as if they're nothing.

Because to me, the mean nothing.

They are but insects, crawling under my feet, begging for mercy as I crush them beneath my boot with no remorse.

I'm drained from any feelings.

I can no longer recognize myself.

I can no longer try to.

I don't know where I'm heading.

I don't know how to stop.

The only thing I do know, is that my pride commands me to go on.

And that order is far stronger than any of the ones she has ever given me.

I can't back away now; it's too late.

I'll just keep going.

To the end.

I am the Sorceress's Knight…