ERROR REPORT: Eight years was changed to seven years ; miscalculation

I added a flashback sort-of in the end, cutting plot advancement. I think it'd be too much if I included it, since three characters we all know will be mentioned/appearing. Let's save it for next time!

Also, I'm going to start looking for a beta reader .;


True Runes: Freyjadour of the Rebellion
Chapter 2: Dogs who become wolves


It was almost seven years ago.

"You're not going to object?" asked the new queen, Sialeeds. She let a few moments to pass for him to object, ask, or say any assuring words. Instead, the conversation was left hanging.

The man she was talking to was hidden in the shadows. His face was obscured, but his dual swords resting on their scabbards stood out like gold in a chest of silver. There was a light-hearted smile that curved in his lips, letting out too a relaxed chuckle.

"Why would I object at a Queen's favour, especially to come up to me personally?"

Queen Sialeeds gently crossed her arms out of habit. She smiled too at the comment, but had hidden this with a split-second bow of her face. Her eyes gazed at the marble floor of the Queen's chamber. The flowing silver hair of hers followed, obscuring the smile that crooked to a bitter smile.

"Haha, me, a queen? It doesn't sound very motivating." She looked up again, trying to see his expression.

Queen Sialeeds saw a glimpse of his twitching lips. "I know."

"Since you have nothing else to say then, you should go now."

The man gave no nod, but he stood straight and gave a respectful bow. As he turned, Queen Sialeeds heard him mutter a few words. He had not muttered against her, but had muttered words that he could not simply say loudly.

Queen Sialeeds placed a hand on her temples. "I'm the one who's supposed to be sorry, Lazlo..."

On the same year then, Prince Freyjadour and Princess Lymsleia were dead.

The Queendom of Falena had heard of their exile but they were reportedly dead. At the times of strife, exile is a euphemism for death. The Scarlet Moon Empire was not only an enemy of the Queendom, but was suffering too from war aftermath of the recent war against Jowston. The war ended quite sooner that what many had expected, especially Freyjadour. Tired from the Succession War, citizens have called for anti-war sentiments but after the Kalekka Incident, the empire gave everything they had to drive the invaders away.

Freyjadour was glad that no war flamed the whole country. He didn't want to get involved...didn't want Lymsleia to get involved.

Freyjadour had not sworn the way Miakis did to protect Lymsleia. Miakis was bound by duty and honour at first, but sisterly love dominated today. Freyjadour's oath was bound by blood. Even at Lymsleia's birth, Freyjadour swore to protect her—always.

"I hate you, I hate you! This is all your fault! You're NOTHING, NOTHING!"

Bitter words filled with resentment came from Lymsleia's mouth. She cried and stomped angrily, hurting her mentally and physically. An eleven-year-old Freyjadour accepted any weak punching or kicking from his sister with his head bowed, and making no reply. Lymsleia had opened her eyes, but Freyjadour could see how pale and empty they were. Doctors have checked—there was nothing wrong with her eyes, but yet, Lymsleia could not see.

Lymsleia coughed, having forced herself to scream at the top of her lungs. Her lungs were barely functional at the moment. It was a miracle she was alive after her lungs survived a deep wound they received. Lymsleia could no longer talk out loud or bear physical activities.

Freyjadour could not apologize. His apology will not do Lymsleia any good. It will not make her or return her body in full health. He was nothing...powerless...

She was right; right to blame him, right to hate him, right to call him 'nothing'.

A week after that, they were sent to their new land as exiles of their homeland. Why were they still alive, contrary to what most people would have thought and concluded?

"I will protect you, Lymsleia," he told her again and again.

They were homeless in a foreign land. With nothing to eat, Freyjadour turned a deaf ear to the voice of his mother, telling him to be strong and remain good. There was no good in this world anymore. He had seen that it was just all a facade. Life as a royalty was a fake. He soon knew that in the inside of the shells of his own homeland, there were those starving because of the corrupted. The Godwins and his treacherous aunt, now Queen Sialeeds, were among those who have been running the chain of sins of criminals in history. Freyjadour's spite originated from this newfound knowledge—knowledge only selected people knew.

Freyjadour had his nunchaka, the heirloom of the royalty. It was a weapon to be used for Falena, but he was now using it for the survival of his and his sister. No one can blame them; they were victims—it was this world to be blamed. He wasn't wrong—the world was.

A month or two, this was how they lived. They were at least able to eat twice a day and camp outside with large, banana leaves and a little fire. It was more difficult to stay near towns, cities or villages. People often stared and ridicule. It angered Freyjadour. There was no peace even for them near people, people who were ignorant of the truth he learned.

Lymsleia could not remain angry at Freyjadour. He gave her everything she needed and wanted. Lymsleia was not very demanding; she didn't want to owe Freyjadour anything. The ice had not melted completely, but Freyjadour is fine as long as Lymsleia is happy and alive. Sometimes, she asked, when she felt like breaking her 'silent treatment', where they were and how they could still get clothes and food—Freyjadour always lies.

Tonight, Freyjadour heard of the annual prayers for good harvest, conducted by the Crowned Prince himself, Barbarossa Rugner. This would take at least a week since the Prince will be going around the Kunan Region. The nearest place to where they were was Antei and the Prince's entourage should be heading there soon.

"I'm going to be late tonight, Lym," said Freyjadour as he took his weapon.

It was the second time Freyjadour visited to Antei. His first time was just the other day. He wasn't there for any particular reason but he had taken the habit to familiarize himself to his future workplace. He appeared to be a local boy with a dull, red tunic with black strings on the collar and beige shorts. He recently took a black leather cape in an inn and has been using it to keep himself warm during his night raids. His constant problem was his hair and face.

He knew he had to get a hood someday, or a really big hat.

Freyjadour stayed straying from the light. The evening was gowned with preparations for the prayer to be conducted by the Crowned Prince. Everyone was anxious and excited, checking every corner to be spotless and the decorations to be beautiful. Musicians were rehearsing and the mayor of the town has been looking at the mirror served by his servants for hours. These events were normally described as a celebration, but for Freyjadour, it was a large gathering to gain audience for those with power. After all, it was the Crowned Prince who will be coming.

Politics was none of his business. Freyjadour remained inconspicuous staying in the back of the crowds from their divided attention. He could smell the buffet held tonight, but with the grand celebration, he could take something he could sell instead.

The noisy preparations hushed when someone alerted of the royal entourage coming.

The carriage carrying Prince Barbrossa along with his wife, Princess Claudia, rolled into view. Their royal guards formed a single line on the two stairs at the front of the town. The door was opened for them and came out first Prince Barbarossa. He lent his hand to the beautiful Princess Claudia whose white gown fitted her flawless skin. Her golden hair was like the sun and her blue eyes carried any gaze to anywhere. She was a beauty.

The ceremony started immediately. The mayor introduced the celebration and the Prince gave a speech. Afterwards, the dancers and the musicians played while they all feasted on food that was harvested earlier. Freyjadour took this moment to move around. He couldn't move a muscle during the speech because he would be seen too obviously. Now that everyone is relaxed and the guards were more focused on protecting the Prince, he nicked a few pouches of potch successfully and with ease.

The main event of course was the religious prayer for the harvest. The gathering became solemn and Freyjadour leaned back to avoid being sighted.

He watched them, chanting prayers solemnly.

He then recalled the people under the King of the Queendom of Falena, chanting their oath solemnly to the Queen.

Each figure in front of him changed to women and men in black and gold robes. Most became the nobles from the Godwin and the Barrows family. The town melted in bright morning. Surrounding the new town was the Feitas River. And instead of the moon above was the sun. Not too far from the sun was the castle, glistening as the symbol of Falena.

"Let our mercy as deep as the Feitas and our authority as powerful as the Sun, be revealed to the entire World."

Three new recruits joined the Queen's Knights, with only King Ferid, Commander of the Queen's Knights, Galleon, and Zahhak left since the last war. Miakis was capable to fight too, but she was employed to be Lymsleia's bodyguard, capable of not only protecting her, but nurturing her. Because of this, she was absent and separated from the Queen's Knights.

After the ceremony, after a day of utmost curiosity Freyjadour failed to restrain, and after King Ferid's introductory speech with the Queen's Knights, he introduced them to him.

"Frey," called his 'father'.

Freyjadour hesitated, but didn't want to show it in front of the King—his father's Knights. He has been at the side, waiting for his father to call him. It wasn't a formal gathering. They were in the room of the Queen's Knights. Though he shouldn't be inside, King Ferid just ignored the rule, "Royalty is an exception as usual."

"Frey, meet Alenia, daughter of Johanne who fought and died bravely in the battle two years ago."

Orange hair, gray eyes…she bowed. She looked nervous and stiff, but King Ferid laughed at her needless anxiety. She greeted Frey respectfully and Freyjadour returned the gesture.

"And this young man here is Kyle. He fought in the battlefield in the last war valiantly."

"Great to see you, Prince!" the blond and blue-eyed young man greeted. He was not exactly cheerful, but he was relaxed and calm. Something in him kept his spirits high and passionate. Freyjadour could not help but smile at him.

"Your majesty took me here on the spot. It's a real honour to be a Queen's Knights, but I was worried there would be no beautiful women here."

"My mo—Queen Arshtat and Lady Sialeeds are beautiful," argued Freyjadour.

Kyle gave him a weird but genuine smile Freyjadour didn't understand. King Ferid cleared his throat, but what caught everyone's attention was a restrained laugh that turned out to be a snort. The last to be introduced turned away as the heads turned to him. King Ferid grinned widely.

"Well, I didn't know this was your type of comedy," commented King Ferid.

"Excuse me," he said, clearing his throat. If he had laughed at that, he erased all trace of it. His deep blue eyes that even contested with the Feitas River looked at Freyjadour whose eyes were only lighter and bigger than his.

"My name is Evander. Like your father, I am from the Island Nations."

"Don't you mean 'His Majesty', Evander?" came Alenia's slow threat.

"Ah, don't be too formal. I'm not really that type of person who wants be called 'His Majesty' all the time," said King Ferid.

Galleon smiled a bit from the comment, but the other veteran remained silent.

"Hm…Evander is the only one who wields two swords," observed Freyjadour, looking hopefully to his father.

King Ferid gave him his wanted praise, putting a hand on his shoulder. "That's right. The swords he used are smaller, but it isn't easy wielding two swords especially in the battlefield."

"The Prince uses a three-sectioned staff. It is among the most difficult weapon there is," said Evander. "It's very difficult. I could never learn how now with my age."

His last statement raised some arguments, since Evander was still too young to think as such, being in his late twenties. Freyjadour was a bit curious with this Queen's Knight, but Evander's and Freyjadour's fate never crossed seriously…

until that day.

But on this day, he met the greatest man he knew.

Prince Barbarossa's night was coming to an end. As he strolled with his guards along with Princess Claudia, he noticed the child with silver hair and azure eyes. Freyjadour felt the lingering, regal gaze and looked up.

The Crowned Prince did not see the eyes of a child, but the eyes of a dog that became a wolf.

Freyjadour gave no thought in his gaze. He looked and moved away, but strangely, the Prince wanted to follow him. He couldn't do so without breaking from his guards and taking attention. Princess Claudia's eyes followed the Prince's and saw the young child. She placed a hand on his arm and looked at him with a meaningful glance. He nodded and beckoned two guards to be with her.

Freyjadour was out of Antei when he realized he was being followed. He pulled out his three-sectioned staff and prepared to do the first attack. It was very dark, but the moon's light gave sufficient light to those under its sky.

"Please don't be alarmed."

Freyjadour heard three pairs of footsteps stopping, only a pair coming out. The voice was that of a female. Coming from a Queendom, Freyjadour is more cautious of women more than men. Women were hard to understand. They were complex humans that can hide any secrets. They were snakes who would remain quiet and hiss, then lunge and eat its victim whole.

Princess Claudia walked with godly grace. Her hair and skin were shining vibrantly under the moonlight. Freyjadour's eyes glistened in the same manner, but their beauty was ripped off from Freyjadour's loathing.

"Children shouldn't be outside, alone," she said. "Wouldn't you like to stay for tonight in Antei?"

This only caused him to be more alarmed.

"I will not force you," she assured, reading ahead. "I am simply concerned."

Freyjadour gave no answer again. Princess Claudia approached slowly.

"No one noticed you there when you're such a handsome boy, but you don't want to be noticed, do you?" She respected Freyjadour's space and stopped with a good distance between them. Her knees slowly reached to the ground. Princess Claudia sat down with her hands on her lap. At this way, she would be looking at the eleven-year-old almost eye to eye.

"You should smile more often," and like a teacher, she smiled. "My name is Claudia."

She stretched her hand a little. Freyjadour backed away. He looked at her and then—ran.

The next day, barely sleeping that night, he came back to Antei. He asked himself why he was here, why he ran as soon as the sun was up and lingered in the inn.

She saw him through the window. Freyjadour ran.

Prince Barbarossa came in their room and saw the former prince running away. He met his wife's sly smile and look. "Claudia, why do you insist on staying and waiting?"

"He will come."

"Why do you not tell the Prince of Falenas we can give him home and everything he and his sister need? Lady Leknaat had seen his star, a promising star..." The Crowned Prince stopped speaking because of his wife's chuckles. Royalty would normally be insulted, but with just the two of them, they were no 'prince' or 'princess' at all.

"To even think you are the Crowned Prince of the Scarlet Moon Empire," scolded Princess Claudia with humour in her voice.

Prince Barbarossa put a hand on his forehead, laughing as he shook his head. "I can never be proud of the respect I earned from other people with you around."

"I am doing my job as your wife then," she replied lovingly.

And the day after that, Freyjadour came again, but Lymsleia became suspicious of her brother's behaviour. Freyjadour denied whatever she had in mind, but this only prompted Lymsleia to go with him. She grabbed his hand and demanded him to lead her whether he went since the day before yesterday.

Freyjadour could only smile.

"It's so noisy!" said Lymsleia as they entered Antei. "Hmm, I hear water running...a fountain? Is that what you've been doing? Playing in the fountain?"

"Of course not," he said, laughing a bit. Freyjadour pulled her gently to the fountain and led her hand to touch the water.

"It's cold!" Lymsleia's face reddened. Both her hands were now submerged in the water. She swam her hands in there and felt a tickling sensation on the back of her hands. She raised her hands out of the water and felt the jet of water coming out of the source. Lymsleia's smile widened and felt this as the same fountain in Sol-Falena. She reached out, leaning closer. She thought that maybe, maybe if she did, she'd...

"Lym! Don't get too close—be careful!" Freyjadour didn't want to pull away her arms. He touched her shoulders with both hands, pulling her away with the least force he can manage without hurting her.

Having his hands dug on her shoulders, he was unprepared for the water that head towards his face. Lymsleia laughed, her offending hands sprinkling water to her brother. Though only a small amount of water went flying to Freyjadour's face, it was enough to make his whole face wet.

Freyjadour wiped his face with his hands. Rather than getting angry, he was surprised. He peered through his wet eyelashes Lymsleia's face, one that is laughing. He smiled, because he feared that if he laughed or did something else, Lymsleia's laughter will be gone—a fragile laughter he didn't want to touch.

Lymsleia's laughter stopped in a second of confusion, listening closely. Freyjadour looked around to what she might be hearing, but all he saw was Princess Claudia out in the broad daylight. She was accompanied by two guards as she approached them. Freyjadour slowly grabbed Lymsleia's wrist and this confused the young princess.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked her brother.

"Why are you still here?" demanded Freyjadour quietly.

"I was waiting for you," answered Princess Claudia serenely.

Lymsleia moved forward a bit, trying to push Freyjadour away. "Waiting? For him? Why? Did he do something again? My brother's such a useless person sometimes! He's good for nothing!"

Freyjadour decided to stare away from Princess Claudia's eyes, but he knew they were looking at him with utmost surprise. He felt no shame or humiliation, but he didn't want to answer anything. He didn't want her to correct Lymsleia either, because she was right.

"You shouldn't talk about your brother like that," said Princess Claudia with a thin trace of reproving.

Lymsleia's eyebrows glared at the source of the voice. "Shut up! Who are you to say that?"

"Lym!" Freyjadour tugged her anxiously. He desperately looked at Princess Claudia. "I'm so sorry! Please forget anything we've said." He hastily tried to bow. "I'll accept any punishment, but don't harm Lym, and please let me live! I can't die yet—"

"What are you talking about?" interjected Lymsleia restlessly all of a sudden. "Yo-you're not se-serious! This isn't funny!" Suddenly, she was trying to control her tears.

"I won't do anything to anyone," said Princess Claudia. "I would never harm anyone, not especially children."

Freyjadour breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Thank you…"

"Are you two hungry? It's almost lunch, and my husband is somewhere else at the moment."

Freyjadour's relief disappeared and his cautiousness returned. He glowered at Princess Claudia, but could not easily say anything, fearing she would be given a reason to decide on a punishment on them now. He bit his tongue for their sake, thinking if they would be pursued if they ran. Why did he take Lymsleia here? Why was she still here?

Lymsleia, unaware of the royalty in front of her, piped, "You should!"

"Lym!" whispered Freyjadour urgently.

"What is it now?" she said impatiently. "I'm hungry!"

Princess Claudia chuckled softly. "Thank you for accepting my offer."

"Well, come on!" she told Freyjadour, nudging the hand Freyjadour's hand gripped.

They were taken to a room in the inn to get more privacy. Seeing two children with the wife of the Crowned Prince will raise a lot of curiosity and rumours. Lymsleia was oblivious about that until Freyjadour whispered that to her ear once they were in a room.

"WHAT?" she yelled and Freyjadour recoiled since his ear was close to Lymsleia's mouth.

Princess Claudia dismissed the guards and sat with the two children in the small table. It was a fine room. The accommodations were excellent, but nobles would think this is an insult for them. However, Princess Claudia insisted on something simple and should be glad enough for their hospitality.

"You're a princess!" shouted Lymsleia accusingly.

"Lym!" warned Freyjadour again and Lymsleia listened this time, cupping her mouth.

"I see your brother told me, but there is no need to feel conscious. You can call me Claudia, but in public, I'm afraid you would have to call me the formal way."

Lymsleia nodded. "That's how we were told too! We can't call our mother "mother" in front of people since she's queen."

"Lym—" Freyjadour grabbed his weapon and looked at Princess Claudia—

She was smiling, nodding her head. "Please relax. I want to talk, not to ask questions. Please eat."

Freyjadour gave no reply and went to feed Lymsleia who happily opened her mouth. She seemed to be in an extra-good mood.

"I'm Lymsleia!" she said after swallowing her food. "Or Lym, and this is my brother, Frey."

"You two have very nice names. Lym, how old are you?"

"Four!"

Princess Claudia drank from her goblet. She had barely eaten and Freyjadour suspected she had just eaten. "Four, my, and you are already very articulate."

Lymsleia nodded. "I can already talk when I was one! Then I started learning when I was three!"

"And the year is about to end." Princess Claudia smiled gently. "Your parents must be so proud."

This surprised the two siblings, quieting them both. Lymsleia raised her hands to wipe the tears forming on her closed eyes.

"Lym…!" Freyjadour dropped her spoon, wanting to do something, but had nothing to wipe her tears. His surprise came again when Princess Claudia pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to him. He stared at the item and at Princess Claudia before accepting it. He cleaned her face gently with the cloth, putting down his sister's hands. "Shh…Lym, you're a very smart and tough girl. Don't cry in front of your meal…"

"Don't scold me!" sniffed Lymsleia, trying to push him away, but she stopped crying nonetheless. "I just don't like how she said it."

"Me too," he muttered quietly.

Even so, it was Princess Claudia that welcomed them to a place. This was the first time they were under a roof by someone's hospitality. Lymsleia smiled again despite her tears. She talked animatedly. Freyjadour did not even feel the need to eat.

As long as Lymsleia is happy.

"You will be in a new home in Gregminister, taken care by the assistant of our seer, Lady Leknaat," said Prince Barbarossa. Princess Claudia smiled beside him. "His name is Lazlo."

Freyjadour and Lymsleia were taken in for a short while by the couple. It wasn't the same as life like royalty despite living in a palace. In that temporary home, there was no pressure, no arguments, and no responsibilities. Formalities were reserved outside.

Freyjadour had especially taken a liking towards Prince Barbarossa. He was a great prince. He can fight with a sword, but had always fought against wars with peace. He was a great man who Freyjadour owned many things. He looked at Princess Claudia like a sister than a mother unlike Lymsleia.

He knew they weren't going to be taken in by the royal couple. He had nothing against the Scarlet Moon Empire, but he was still paranoid, fearing they would use them at a desperate situation as political tools. He didn't want to get involved in politics, in wars, and in any ambitions.

Prince Barbarossa was not like that of course, but how about his father? His uncle? His other brothers?

Freyjadour knew getting them in did not go too peacefully. It did not reach the ears of the public, but Prince Barbarossa's family of course knew. He heard them become quiet, then burst into thoughts, debating about taking in two orphans.

Not once though did anyone realize or question if they were from royalty. Princess Claudia may have told Prince Barbarossa, but both of them kept a tight lip about it.

Now that they were going to be under a new person, were they going to be safer?

Freyjadour looked at the man in his late twenties. His eyes were deep and filled with much wisdom. His brown, shoulder-length hair coated his oval head and his bangs partly covered the red band around his forehead. The man wore a black sleeveless under a cropped white vest with red turtleneck. When he bowed slightly and offered his hand to Freyjadour, he saw thick white gloves covering both his hands.

As Freyjadour raised his hand to shake it, the man retracted it and patted his head instead. He blinked, hearing the man laugh.

"It's good to see you, Frey."

It was as if they had known each other a long time ago, and much deeper.

"It's good to see you again, Freyjadour."

Freyjadour stared at the face one can easily mistake as Princess Claudia's, but the glint in her eyes and the smile on her lips were not Princess Claudia's.

He had heard knocking on the door and the instant he answered it, he was greeted with Lady Windy and armed soldiers. He managed not to slam the door close on impulse (but his wrist itched to flick).

"Is something the matter, Lady Windy?" he asked cautiously and slowly, eying at the armed soldiers behind her.

"We are looking for the head of the house, your guardian, Lazlo," she answered smoothly, biting the words very well. "This is by the order of His Majesty."

"His Majesty?" thought Freyjadour with shock. "What is the reason for this?"

Freyjadour honestly knew many reasons, but did not realize it was this serious.

Ever since Princess Claudia was killed in the Succession War.

"Lazlo…"

The eleven-year-old Freyjadour didn't know how to approach him, but it's been almost a year since they last saw each other. They've spent times together like a real family, everything about Falena forgotten. But war separated them…

"Master!" cried the young man's student. Her gray-blue eyes were tainted with sad tears. Her emotions were violent, but forcibly restrained, notably by the way she was holding Freyjadour's little hand. Freyjadour was also on the same emotional grip, but gritted his teeth to fight it off.

"Odessa, there's no need to cry," hushed Lazlo like a father. "Just…remain strong, become stronger. Protect Frey and Lym for me."

Odessa lowered her head and cast her eyes away. Half of her wanted to be strong and make him proud, but half of her wanted to be a normal girl and just cry in front of him, because the whole part of her didn't want him to go. She was scared inside, but lied with her words because she knew her fear will grow weakness.

"I will…" her whisper shook.

Lazlo put a hand on his head. Freyjadour looked at him innocently. He knew where he was about to head, but still, he did not understand the causalities and meaning of war. He knew Lazlo might die, but somehow, he thought, it was impossible…

"Goodbye," bid Freyjadour.

"Bye."

…because Lazlo said…

"…I'll come back."

So, even as he watched that back shrink farther, Freyjadour knew.

"I will come back."

He will come back.

Even if he knew war, even if he knew his promise, he never understood the meaning behind it all.

He and his sister spent mundane days without Lazlo, days that were empty. Under the temporary care of Odessa's family, the Silverberg, they were once again blessed with luxury. They fled to the City-States of Jowston with Odessa's brother, Mathiu, who was insisted to stay to observe the war by his father, but refused. He was called a coward, but Mathiu ignored the callings and left Scarlet Moon Empire and its war.

Everyday, Odessa would swing her dual swords, the similar swords Lazlo have. Freyjadour watched in awe and often sparred with her. Odessa had always been bitter the several times Freyjadour wins or loses only by a draw. She wasn't particularly too proud by defeating an eleven-year-old, but Freyjadour made sure that Odessa would win or else, he feared, that she would cry again.

"Eh? You lost again?" was Lymsleia's line all the time. Freyjadour played dumb, smiling weakly even if she couldn't see it. Lymsleia placed her hands on her hips, curling her lips. Freyjadour was confused why she was a bit pinkish. "You stupid brother! Odessa is not crying because she loses to you!"

Freyjadour wondered just how smart his sister was because he didn't understand what she meant. Often, she say things he didn't understand, like the reason Freyjadour shouldn't cry, the reason Freyjadour should comfort crying girls rather than standing (he was always there for Lymsleia, but felt he shouldn't do anything when Odessa cries), the reason he should dye his hair black, the reason he should learn how to sing, the reason…well, they get crazier each time and Freyjadour is starting to think he shouldn't trust his sister about things he wouldn't understand.

He thought of what Lymsleia said about Odessa and her tears. He planned to spar with her again, attempting to win this time. However, he and Lymsleia suddenly talked about Lazlo and Freyjadour had placed his hand on her head just like how Lazlo did to him.

"He'll come back," he said.

Freyjadour was completely innocent and guiltless of anything, but Odessa came up all of a sudden and challenged him to a spar. She was oddly serious and aggressive. Freyjadour became desperate in their spar that turned to a duel and ended it with a draw. Odessa lost one of her swords and Freyjadour was completely empty-handed. Afterwards, she cried even though she was smiling.

Freyjadour just stood there, asking why she was crying quite, flustered, and Lymsleia threw her shoe in the air, luckily hitting Freyjadour in the head. Odessa laughed and Freyjadour just smiled.

Odessa was a Silverberg, where many prominent military strategists came from. Freyjadour heard of them, but they weren't very popular in the Queendom of Falena. Odessa was less of a strategist but a warrior and a leader. He met her a day they stayed under Lazlo, discovering that she has been an apprentice under Lazlo two years ago. None of them shared their story how it began though.

Odessa was like a sister for Freyjadour and he was her little brother. Mathiu was quite a stranger for him. Even Odessa disliked her brother who shook his head of disapproval upon learning she took up learning to wield a weapon. Every time Odessa felt like ranting, Freyjadour was there to listen. Odessa was among the few people Lymsleia listened. They argued when they first met, especially at Odessa's dislike for the way she treats her brother.

"You should be embarrassed," berated Odessa. "I have more respect from your sister than you have from her."

And Freyjadour replies, replies more and more, smiling less often in reply. This was how they survived during the Succession War, how his life never seemed to stop.

After the war ended, they went home, hearing too the news of Princess Claudia's death. As he stared at Lazlo, he recalled the plan they devised.

"When we come back, Lym, let's smile and…" Freyjadour blushed slightly. He was excited to meet Lazlo again. He was happy he was fine, but he wanted to make Lazlo happier. "And Lym, do you want to call him…dad?" He hesitated and added hastily, "it's less formal than 'father'! But if you don't feel right…"

"Of course I don't!" she said. Freyjadour looked at her face and saw her blush. "But…but if you really want to!"

"We'll do it together then!" he said, relieved that her sister agreed with him for once.

"Hm! How timid of you!"

But now, they couldn't smile. Lymsleia was crying over Princess Claudia's death. Freyjadour have consoled her, but even he was breaking inside. His concern of Lymsleia has no bounds, but Odessa was with her to support Lymsleia's emotional needs. He looked through the doorway, starring at Lazlo whose eyes were peering outside the evening sky.

He didn't know how to approach him, because he wasn't the same man who promised to come back. He felt like Lazlo hadn't, like his heart was left behind in the war. It was as if his heart died in the war.

He couldn't call him 'dad' because it didn't feel right. He stood up and approached him. As he called his name, he slowly stirred around. He tried to think what to say as he turned, but nothing came to his mind. His mind was blank, but his heart wanted to pour out many things.

Lazlo looked at him with unfamiliar eyes. Freyjadour's voice disappeared and his breaths went shorter. He opened his mouth, loosely hanged.

He used his little breaths to speak and managed to choke out two words. "Welcome back."

Freyjadour cried.

Lazlo approached him and placed a hand on his head. Somehow, the hand felt heavier, as if there lays a heavy burden with it.

"Frey, times will be harder now. Claudia is gone and Barbarossa is already…a different man."

His crying stopped and he looked at his guardian because of his statement. He gasped to see tears in his eyes.

"I…I'm tired, Frey. I'm…" Lazlo gritted his teeth. The young boy can feel his hand on his head tighten. Lazlo tilted his head away and squeezed his eyes shut. Beads of tears rolled his eyes uncontrollably to a sudden flowing stream. "I'm tired…I want to be judged, punished…I'm tired, Frey…I'm so tired." He muttered as if talking to a priest, confessing sins he could not utter, but only regret.

He embraced him in a tight hug. Freyjadour was disoriented, but it was a hug he never received before.

Freyjadour felt anger rising in him as he stood face to face in front of Lady Windy. "If it was about last night—"

"We have received information that he is part of a rebellion, and evidence-" Lady Windy interrupted, making a crooked smile. "-of his murder of the late wife of His Majesty, Princess Claudia."

Freyjadour's anger diminished and he stared at her eyes—lying eyes! "Rebellion? Murder? What are you talking about?" Lazlo?

"It appears he has a habit of killing queens."

"Frey, I want to die already."