Golden Memory

No one had hope in her.
No one said anything to her. They said they did, though. And by the supposed reactions that she gave, they had come up with four different groups that tried to explain her behavior and convince the city that they were right.
If you asked two groups what she'd do if you talked to her, they said she'd talk normally for the most part, but her voice would be sad and sometimes she would just moan and cry. These people had sympathy, and they tried to say that even though she was like this now, she would recover and be ready for someone else later.
One group said she was heartbroken. She and Fratley were so close - they had practically lived together - and then he suddenly left her. Rude, they said. She was crushed. She couldn't recover. But with a little consulting, she would be better. She just needed someone.
The other group said she was grief-stricken. First Fratley left her, and now she finds out she's dead. So far she's just in shock. She'll ignore the fact, and then she'll start moping, and then she'll be over it and ready for someone new. Just leave her, these people said. She needs to be alone.
Then there was the other side. These people hated her, and they said that if you dared to talk to her, she'd attack you. Bite, scream, snarl, curse, kill. Beware, these people said. But their reasons were different.
One group said she was mad. All that had happened to her just made her go insane. She couldn't help it, they said, but she could harm someone. Best to put her in the Asylum or ban her so she can be insane with others.
The other group said she was insane from the beginning. They said Fratley was trying to change her but finally her lunatic ways just made him have to leave to get away from her. Now she is wondering around, back to normal now that Fratley has left her. These people suggested the dungeon or something related to death to bring her out of her misery - supposedly.
There were four groups. Freya didn't even know which one would be most like her.
Freya slowly walked down the street. Her feet didn't bother leaving the ground. They shuffled along, claws scraping the ground and causing anyone nearby to cringe and rush away from the noise. She walked with her head bowed, staring at the paved streets and watching the images that they brought to her. Fratley's face swum over the streets, smiling at her.
Why couldn't she forget?
No words escaped Freya's lips. She could never say anything right, and sometimes just speaking made her cry, so she had just learned to shut up and say nothing. That was why all the whisperings made no sense. Freya didn't talk or scream. She couldn't give the responses those Burmecians said she gave. But since no one ever talked to her, no one ever knew that she was mute from things she could not understand.
The setting sun sent its light into the streets of the city. It caught the prisms of the constant rain and cast rainbows on the city. It was a wonder to tourists, but most citizens ignored it. The spectacle would be gone in another two hours, when the sun at last disappeared. This was the only time it could happen besides sunrise. The clouds didn't manage to hide the sun when it passed very close to the horizon. That was the only time the sun managed to make it in.
Freya was not admiring the scene. She was running from invisible troubles. Fratley's voice, touch, scent, and looks hounded her. Freya ran madly, though it was useless to run from memories.
"Leave me alone!" Freya tried to shout, but no words came out. It was as if someone had cut out her vocal cords.
Freya at last stopped running, staring at the ground while hugging herself.
"I'll be back," Fratley's voice said soothingly within her mind. "I promise."
Again and again the words came back, their soothing tone becoming a nightmare. Again and again Fratley's face, with its warm smile and brilliant blue eyes, swam into Freya's head and blinded her from the world. And instead of feeling her own embrace, Freya felt Fratley's warm embrace, his loving touch, and his soft kisses.
Freya wanted to scream. But if she did the most it would look like she was doing was attempting to catch flies.
Leave me alone! Freya mentally screamed at the memories, but they only seemed to become clearer, haunting her more. I don't want you, I want to forget you!
She wanted to forget. Fratley had left, saying he would protect. But what if he left because of her? Had she done something? Said something? Why had Fratley suddenly turned around and left, with barely a word to her except the sweet words that haunted her now? And his death. What was that? Fratley was strong, stronger than the strongest. He could take anything that was brought his way, even a Grand Dragon. He wouldn't die. But what if Freya came into it again? What if something she had said had made him leave, and then the horror of having to return to her by a promise made him commit suicide. Fratley wasn't a suicide person. But what if he had been distracted when fighting? What if he had been distracted about having to return and it had killed him instead? What if Freya was just a complete idiot? Thinking had made the memories leave temporarily, and Freya opened her eyes. A glimmer of gold caught them. She turned in the direction of the soft glimmer, and she gasped. She walked slowly over to the golden chain.
It couldn't be it. He had been wearing it when he left. Before Freya had collapsed and cried like a two-year-old she had seen him turn around and the golden chain had glimmered softly in the candlelight in a doorway. He had been wearing it. She swore it.
Freya slowly picked up the golden chain on the floor. It looked as if it had just been dropped, and had not lain there on the ground for two years. Perhaps it hadn't. Freya's hands were shaking, and the memories were returning. Freya tried not to close her eyes when the voice returned along with the warm embrace, but she couldn't help it.
"Freya, I don't want anything to harm you. If you get killed I might as well end my own life," Fratley's haunting voice cooed. "I must go - for your sake. For Burmecia's. Then I'll return, and our lives can continue together again."
Oh, go away, Freya thought bitterly. Please.
The memory came even stronger, as if teasing her. Freya bit her lip and let out a soft whimper. She then opened her eyes, only to find her vision blurry from tears.
Great. Now she was going to cry like a baby again. Freya brushed the tears away, at the same time trying to shove the memory away. Everyone was ignoring her by now, avoiding her like some plague.
It could always not be his. It could belong to someone else. A noblemen could've dropped it and just decided to buy a new one. It could easily not be Fratley's, since he had left with his.
Freya turned the golden chain over and began to fumble with the hatch on the circular attachment.
It couldn't be his. He had been wearing it. He loved it. He had cherished it in the same way that he had cherished Freya - Freya shoved aside the memories that tempted to torture her - It couldn't be his. He'd never lose it.
The latch let out a soft click as Freya's nail found the right place to press. Freya's hands were shaking, and tears were threatening to show themselves again. The memories were pressing ever so viciously. Slowly Freya lifted the face of the golden watch-like object.
And out from the small golden holder fell a silver carving of the Great Dragon. It hit the pavement with a soft cling and Freya stared at the open pendant as if she thought it came from God.
For not only the silver carving was in the holder, but so was a picture of her that Dave, one of Freya's good friends, had sketched. Her 13-year-old pretty face stared back at her, a small smile drawn on her face. Freya stared quietly at it in return, her mouth slightly agape, the memories seeming to hum with triumph.
But he had been wearing it.
Freya carefully closed the pendant and held it close to her chest, staring at the ground.
"So you're not going to give up? You're just going to keep coming to me?" Freya asked.
But words came out this time. Hoarse words, like a person with a bad cold, flowed from her mouth. They sounded so horrid that Freya once again fell silent.
He would keep coming and coming. Fratley was determined, it seemed, to keep in her mind. And - and - suddenly it hit Freya in the face. She had been trying to convince herself that she wanted to forget Fratley.
The thing was, she wanted to keep remembering.
She didn't think Fratley was dead. She thought he was still alive. And she hoped - prayed - that he was still thinking about her. Still loved her. Hadn't replaced her.
Freya took a shaky breath. Tears were making it hard to see. Her hands were shaking. She bolted suddenly, running madly toward her house, tears coming free from her eyes and sliding backward toward her hair due to her run. All Burmecians outside turned and stared at her rushing by. A few muttered under their breath.
Freya reached her house, opened the door, rushed in, and slammed the door shut. The peaceful yet lonely silence of her house answered her. She was the only occupant. At only 19 she had no parents or siblings to help her. And Fratley was gone too.
She fell to her knees and cried. Why she cried even Freya could not say. She felt she should be used to this kind of thing, what with her rough past.
Freya's sobbing did not last long. She soon forced herself to stop and leaned against the door, staring at the ceiling. She took a deep, ragged breath.
Fratley clearly was not going to come to her. Not like he had promised. She would have to come to him.
Freya rose quickly and silently to her feet. She jogged over to her bedroom, a small room that just managed to hold a bed and a bureau. Freya walked over to the bureau and pulled a drawer open. She would need an extra set of clothes, some food, Gil, and her spear.
Freya shed her clothes but then just as quickly put on her armor and her travelling outfit over it. She snatched another pair of clothes while grabbing her leather sack. She stuffed the clothes in it and headed out of the bedroom without a second glance.
Freya walked into the kitchen and stuffed some bread, cheese, and a few other foods into the pack. She took a large pack of Gil out of another cabinet and stuffed it in. She then looked up and at her Javelin, resting quietly against the wall. She walked over and picked it up. She didn't notice its weight. She tied it around her waist, then quietly left the house.
She would have to tell the king she was leaving. Yet how would she speak to him? Perhaps her voice would manage something strong - if anything at all. Silently Freya walked toward the castle.
It took her five minutes. Finally Freya found herself staring at the two Dragon Warriors guarding the castle.
"What is your reason for being here?" one of them snapped at Freya.
Freya tried to look confident, but it didn't work well. She didn't feel confident. She felt empty, and she knew she looked pathetic.
"I wish to speak to the king," Freya croaked out.
The two Dragon Warriors glanced at their fellow Warrior, then at each other. They then allowed Freya to pass. Quietly Freya entered the castle. She walked up to the king's throne and bowed.
"M'lord," Freya croaked out. "I wish to tell you that I am leaving."

She sounded like a dying toad, and apparently the king and she both noticed. The king nodded quickly.
"What for?" he asked.
"To find Fratley," Freya said hoarsely. "I am tired of waiting for him to return. I shall return myself to him."
The king only stared at her, seeming worried and relieved at the same time. "You do know that if you are gone for too long, you will be banned?"
"Yes."
The king nodded. He took a deep breath while Freya stared at the ground.
"Go. I grant you permission."

"Thank you, m'lord."
Freya spun around and left the castle as quickly as she could. She walked down the street, holding the golden chain tightly. She walked slowly now, like a ghost. No one dared to look at her. She didn't dare to look at them. She kept walking, staring ahead.
Finally she reached the city gates. She looked up at them and took a deep breath. Two years ago Fratley had left through these gates, and a rumor of his death had returned. And the chain. Freya sighed softly, then stepped through the iron gate that had been opened when she approached. She then slid behind the gates to where no one could see her.
She slowly opened her fist to reveal the glimmering golden chain. Its glimmers to beginning to disappear with the setting sun. Freya rubbed her finger over the pendants smooth gold face. She then flipped the latch. She had to see if she had been imagining things.
Carefully Freya lifted the golden face. And she couldn't believe her eyes.
Within the pendant was the picture of her and the silver dragon that had fallen out.
How the hell, Freya thought, and the memories plagued her again.
How had she gotten into this situation? How had she gone from wanting to forget to wanting to find? What if Fratley despised her still? What if she found, not him, but his grave?
I'll return, the memories assured. I'll return.
Did Freya believe?
"I believe," Freya whispered, and even her whisper somehow found a way to be hoarse. "I believe you're alive somewhere, Fratley. And I believe you still love me. I hope."
She hoped it. She prayed. But there was only one way to find out now.
Freya carefully closed the golden pendant. She put into her pocket and out of sight. She looked in the direction of Lindblum, supposedly a massive city. Freya had never seen it. Now she would. All she had to do was.
Freya turned slowly in the direction of Burmecia as she padded over to the gate. She stared at the only home she knew. The one place she cherished. She took a deep breath. Could she leave?
The people had no sympathy. The town held nothing for her now. Freya took another deep breath, trying to calm herself. She felt nervousness.
She could do this. Of course she could do this. She could find Fratley, no matter what. He wasn't dead. Not if the golden chain had appeared and was now resting in her pocket. It had to be something, some type of sign. Freya believed it was. And now she would return it.
It took another deep breath before Freya turned around and began to head toward Lindblum. She tried to hold her head high, but her spirits were still down, her mind having too much to think about. The sun had just set completely, and darkness was descending quickly, meaning the temperatures would drop quickly as well. She had too much to think about.
The memories came again. Fratley's voice, touch, and face came in. But Freya did not shove them away.
She instead grabbed the golden memories and kept them there.

------- Erm, I haven't the slightest idea what I was aiming for with this little short story. It doesn't link with any other stories I've written. I was just thinking one night and came up with this, this "work". Ha. Rewrite, here we come! Hehe, anyway, tell me what you think, what should be improved, so forth and please, don't ask questions, because I most likely won't answer ;) And if you like it, say what you like! Be helpful =) Thank you.

This story is copyright to me. Some characters, locations, events, and Gaia in general are copyright to SquareEnix.