She looks like Squall.

That's the first thing I always end up thinking when I see her - she could almost be Taran's twin, or Squall's little sister instead of his daughter. Her eyes, the shape of her face, the color and texture of her hair...you'd think she had no mother at all, just like Taran.

And then she opens her mouth, and you start wondering if Hyne has a vicious sense of humor.

I don't understand her at all. But I haven't quite given up trying yet. So, one day when I had some time, I sought her out.

Daear likes lonely places, rocky places. High places where she can stare down at the world. And that's where I found her - the mountains of Trabia, the high cold peaks. On this side of life travel is an exercise of thought - so she didn't have to climb to get here. Just wished herself here, and here she was. The view, all around, is of snow and mountains and the occasional arctic monster.

I'd call it cold and lonely, and it would be true - but it suits her. I have yet to see any genuine warmth out of the girl at all, and it worries me. No one should be so cold. But Daear could, for all practical purposes, be carved of ice.

She didn't turn around when she felt me approach - the wind would blow her hair into her face, and she's not keen on things like that.

"I didn't come here to have private talks with you, Grandfather," she said. Her tone clearly said 'so go away', but I ignored it. Just once, I wanted to understand her. She's twenty years old now, though she doesn't look it, and soon Squall will take her back into the world and I won't see her until she dies.

"Why here?" I asked her, waving a hand at the scenery. "There's mountains enough farther south. I just wondered what you come here to see."

"Purity," Daear replied flatly. "The world as it ought to be."

I looked out at the snow with a sinking heart. "Empty?" I asked her.

"Untouched," she replied distantly. "No towns. No people. Just the world as it is."

I regarded her for a moment. The phrase 'Ice Queen' kept creeping into my mind, and I wasn't all that happy about it. "You could see that from the Galbadian plateaus," I commented. "Or the jungles near Timber. Why here?"

"Trees," Daear snapped. "Too much life. It's as crowded as any city. Here, the only life for miles is me."

"You have a problem with plant life?" I teased, but it went right by her. I can't really tell if she's dense or I'm slipping.

Daear turned her near-habitual icy glare on me. "If you want someone who has a love affair with plants, talk to Cariad," she said. "Cariad, lover of tiny white flowers, and Chwaer the chocobo lover. They can keep them. I'll take the land beneath - where the power is."

Ah. I hid a frown. Somehow, with Daear, it always seems to come down to power. Or control. "Going into geothermal energy?" I asked lightly.

The tiniest hint of yellow-gold started entering Daear's eyes. If she had fine enough control, she could probably convince people she was a Sorceress - but she can't control where the color appears. In a Sorceress' eyes, the gold takes the place of the usual iris tint. In Squall's children, the eye change occurs across the whole eyeball. Guardian forces have neither irises nor pupils to their eyes, in general - so neither do the children when they use their powers. Daear was getting annoyed - that was what the shift meant.

"You are a moron," she said flatly, as though this were the most obvious fact in the world, and turned away.

I shrugged it off. I've been called worse. Usually by Kiros after a few drinks - and I've slept with Kiros. "Doesn't bode well for your future, then," I commented. "After all, you can inherit things like that."

Ooohh. That got her attention. She takes a lot of pride in her intelligence. "Look - Laguna," she said, emphasizing my name rather than the usual 'Grandfather' or 'Grandpa' most of the others give me. "I am not interested in playing happy families. I never have been. I'm not going to start now. There is a whole world out there that my oh so loving father has kept me from touching for the past fucking ten years. I want my part in that world. You've had your time. Leave me alone."

She moved - and I could tell she was going to wish herself somewhere else. Before she could, I grabbed her wrist - ensuring that wherever she went, I would go too. So she didn't bother. Instead her eyes shifted completely, and she snapped, "Let. Me. Go. Now."

"Or you'll do what?" I demanded. "Use your power? And if Squall hears about it, do you think he'll let you go? After what you tried to do to Zell - do you think he'll let you go if you do it again?"

I half-hoped she would try it. I was beginning to get a very bad feeling about the idea of Daear loose in the world.

"Little rat," she hissed, and jerked her arm away from me. "Why must we defer to him? Taran - Taran I could almost endure. He is my brother, he's been with us from the start, he's one of us. But him - he has no right to keep us here!"

"He is your father, Daear, whether you like it or not. The proof of it's written all over your face - look in a mirror sometime. And whether you like it or not, he is acting as your father."

The corners of her mouth twitched upward in a vicious smile. "And did he defer to you, then, Laguna? Did he do what you wanted him to, when you asked?"

Gods - why can't I keep my temper around this girl? "Since you ask, yes he did," I snapped. Of course, I never bothered asking him to do anything after he took down Ultimecia, so that's technically true...

"Then he's more stupid than I thought," she snapped. "His power is worth my respect even if this..." she flicked a wrist, "family tie isn't. Were I him, I would take orders from no one. Not you, not him, no one. You would not have the right."

I really was having doubts about the wisdom of letting her go. "What about love, Daear?" I asked her. "This world of yours, of power and control...it'll be very lonely. What good is having the world at your feet if it doesn't make you happy?"

"I don't want the world," she replied, and tossed her hair over one shoulder. "There would be no point in wanting the world. There would be no place from which challenge or change could come. I'll settle for a city. And you, my dear, dead grandfather, can't do a thing about it." And then she succeeded in wishing herself away...and I was alone on the mountaintop.

But I didn't have to be. "Squall," I murmured. He's learned to hear when his name is spoken. Since he's part of Griever now, very few people on this side of life actually know his name. And only a moment passed before he was there, standing not far away from me on the crag.

"Yes?" he asked calmly, and waited.

I swallowed. How do you tell your son that his daughter is a monster? "Daear," I managed. "...Are you going to...let her go back with the others?"

He blinked, but didn't move. "Yes," he said eventually. "I think so."

I shook my head. "I really don't think it's a good idea," I told him. "She's going to hurt someone."

"Probably a lot of people," Squall replied, unruffled. "The question is really only who, and under what circumstances."

That brought a frown out of me. "You know what she's going to do...and you're going to let her? When you could prevent it?"

Squall simply stared at me for a moment, inhuman lion-gold eyes in his mother's face. "I know what she plans to do, Father," he said quietly. "What I don't know is what she'll do to get there, or what she'll do if she succeeds."

A mercenary's stance. Determine the nature of the threat. "You could keep her here," I said. "She's only going to be trouble in the living world."

Squall shook his head. "I have to know, Father," he said. "Daear's personality...of them all she's the only one like that. But what if Taran had children? With powers like his? Or Gwynt? Or the twins? Those children, Father, would be out of my reach. I'd never see them, never know them. Wouldn't be able to stop them from doing anything they wanted. Chances are really good even SeeD wouldn't find them now, if they didn't want to be found, possibly even with my help. But Daear...I know her. I can find her. Can stop her if I need to. I need to know what one of them can do, if they've a mind to - what they can get away with before they're stopped. Because...if she can do what she wants to...take over a city somewhere, rule it...any of them can do that. Any of their children could do that." He paused, thinking. "Father...if she succeeds, I will kill all six. Before the danger gets out of hand."

His children. He was talking about killing his children - quite possibly the only children he might ever have - as though he were discussing a raid on a military base. Completely calm, completely matter-of-fact. I could tell my jaw had dropped open - and I might have said any number of things, if I could only have worked out what order to say them in.

Squall seemed to take a little pity on my shock. "Father...Taran knows. I've warned him, the conditions for their survival. I don't want to have to kill them - they can't help how they were born, or what they are. They'll have to police themselves, and do a damn good job of it - or the world will do it for them. Daear...is the first test. The other five...they could stop her. Quickly, quietly, no fuss. Or they can let SeeD stop her, and risk turning it against them."

"I can't believe you," I said hoarsely. "You're talking about ordering your son to kill his sister. Squall, there's got to be another way."

Squall's jaw set. "There isn't another way," he snapped. "Don't you think I've thought about this? Those six - there aren't any others like them in the world. We'd have heard about them by now. SeeD has all of Odine's notes on the mechanics of their creation, there won't be any more like them ever, unless they're born that way. Father...they're always going to have this problem. They're always going to have to watch over their own shoulders, be ready to kill an aunt, a cousin, brother...whatever. Because all it'll take is one bad apple. Just one. And every last one of them would end up a target."

I let myself ignore his clinical approach to their existence. The rest of his statement was too horribly fascinating. "You're talking about...a race, aren't you. A whole new race of people."

He shrugged. "It's possible," he said. "They exist because I was...injected...with Odine's serums at the same time their...mothers were. Their powers weren't infused, they were inherited. It's logical to assume their own children would inherit abilities of some sort. Perpetuating the differences."

And Squall doesn't want to go into details, and personally I don't really want to know. Not given the shape he came back in afterward. "You're thinking...incredibly far ahead," I managed.

"I have to," he replied. "They're my children...my descendants...when all's said and done. It'd be nice to think they could do some good in the world, with the things they can do. But their powers weren't meant to be used that way - you can tell if you observe them. I've junctioned Quezacotl, Father. Just Quezacotl by itself. It didn't make me half as strong or as fast as Taran is. The others...they're the same. At my best guess it's like they've got Ultima spells hardwired into their systems - it'd take a hell of a lot to kill them, or even injure them for long, even without their powers." He sighed. "Father...even their eyes do more than average. When they shift, they can see into infrared and ultraviolet if they want to. See in the dark Think about that. Strong, fast, hardy, able to see security beams, can't be disarmed...I don't have proof beyond what I've seen in them but these kids are warriors. Of a caliber that should be giving Seifer insomnia if he's using his brain at all."

"But they're good kids, for the most part," I reassured him. "They wouldn't do that. They wouldn't start a fight - gods, Cariad would hand an enemy the knife and hold it to her own throat rather than raise a hand to anyone."

"But their own children are another matter," said Squall firmly. "It's up to them. I can't make them live their lives how I'd want them to - I'd just be giving them my own life all over again. That's why only Taran knows about the risk Daear poses them. I want to know if I've done this right. Whether they can police themselves when they need to, or whether I've just lit the fuse on a war waiting to happen."

Daear as the fuse..."Does Daear know you're using her as bait?"

Squall's lips twitched. "We have a sort of understanding," he said. "That is, she understands that as long as she doesn't pull another harebrained stunt like she did with Zell, I'll let her go. And that as long as she doesn't overtly cause trouble, I'll leave her alone. She's trying to work out how to be subtle at the moment...not doing very well either. She doesn't know about Taran. Probably would be shocked as hell to find out he was more than willing, too."

Because he's 'one of us', as she put it. I'm lost in thought for a while...trying to think of a better way. Some way that wouldn't mean brothers watching over sisters with a hand ready to kill. Some way that would let them all live. They're Squall's descendants, yes...but they're mine too. I don't want anything happening to them.

I wish I could have found the words that would reach her. I wish I didn't believe, in my heart of hearts, that when she dies it'll be too soon...and her killer will be her family.

I wish there was a better way.