Freud awakes slowly to birdsong and a comforting warmth around him. It's a new feeling. And strangely addictive. He burrows closer to Phantom, breathing in his scent and listening to the sound of the thief's gentle breaths. Phantom stirs slightly when Freud moves but he doesn't wake, only shifting to grasp the angel's feathers gently between his fingers.

Phantom is smiling slightly, as if dreaming some beautiful dream.

He takes a while to admire the thief's peaceful expression. He's been Phantom's guardian for a while now, but he has never seen Phantom at peace like this, his sleeping demeanor framed by spun gold that all but glistens in the amber rays of sunlight — Phantom looks handsome and even otherworldly, like a man right out of his dreams.

Perhaps, right out of the Dragon Master's dreams.

Gently, and slowly so he won't wake the sleeping man, Freud edges forward and drops a chaste kiss across the Master Thief's lips, content to just feel the softness of Phantom against his skin. He will have to be — it's all he can have, for now.

:

:

Phantom's pacing the front yard of the Dragon Master's house waving his arms exasperatedly. Freud is lying down on the grass, watching the blue clouds fly by with dazed, starstruck eyes. He really likes to watch the clouds go by, he hasn't gotten the chance to watch the clouds this way before. His wards are usually confined to work in the cities, or towns, and he's too busy making sure they don't bleed themselves to death by accident to actually relax. The clouds make him feel at peace, and if he stares hard enough he can convince himself he's flying without actually moving a feather.

'I'm telling you, Freud. We should really try to go someplace special.'

'Hm?'

'For once the entire world is ours to enjoy with no consequence at all —'

'We're not going to steal anything.'

'But Freud —'

'We are not going to steal anything,' repeats Freud, closing his eyes.

He hears Phantom huff in indignation. 'I was going to say But Freud, that isn't all I'm concerned about because I'm actually trying to be a better person but sure, we won't steal anything if you don't want to.'

Freud cracks open an eye. 'Look into my eyes and say that again.'

Phantom stalks over. Freud watches his face change from exasperation to contemplation to a smirk.

'You know me too well,' chuckles Phantom.

'Of course.' He slowly gets to his feet. 'It's not hard to see where your priorities lie, you know.'

'They lie beside you,' says Phantom immediately, beaming like there's no tomorrow.

'Of course,' deadpans Freud.

'Let's have breakfast someplace nice.'

'Oh? Sure… where shall we go?' Freud strides up to Phantom, eyes still glued on the thick clouds rolling across the azure sky.

'A cliff.'

Freud turns to Phantom. 'What?'

Phantom waves a hand dismissively. 'You used to have a thing for heights. You'd be on a cliff somewhere when you were frustrated… hell you ran away with Afrien to escape from me.'

'Oh. You must've been extremely annoying, then.'

'How dare you!' Phantom clutches at his heart dramatically, hurt's printed all over his face. 'I was just expressing my concern for you, you know.'

Freud rolls his eyes.

'And mind you those wounds are still open! You should try to fix them someday before you regret —'

Phantom is cut off by a yelp as light bursts out behind him.

Freud grins widely at him. 'You were saying?'

'Freud! What's going on!?' Phantom yells, 'Make it stop!'

'I will not.'

The light intensifies, like all the sun's rays are concentrated between Phantom's shoulder blades, and everything turns white for a split second before it's gone as fast as it comes.

Phantom is standing in some awkward position, hands raised to block the blows of an imaginary enemy, his eyes squeezed shut.

Two large, white wings billow out behind him.

'Phantom,' murmurs Freud.

Phantom slowly opens his eyes and relaxes, but he yelps again when he sees the two wings sprouting from his back. 'What the hell?'

Freud bursts out laughing as Phantom tries to grab one wing and bring it forward to inspect it, sifting through the feathers almost frantically. They shift awkwardly with his every movement and Freud has to duck to avoid the flailing wings.

'Stop, Phantom, gods please just relax!'

'I'm a bird!' he yells.

'No, you're an angel —'

Phantom whoops, cutting Freud off and he takes several running leaps into the air, strewing fine dust behind him. Freud laughs harder as Phantom crashes back into the ground several times, getting dirt on his uniform while he tries to wrestle with his new appendages and the air currents flowing about him.

Freud is glared into silence. Phantom scowls and jams his raven hat tighter on his head before simply jumping straight up into the air. His wings spread out behind him. Freud watches with satisfaction as his feathers strain, brace against the air and hold his weight, and then Phantom almost moves instinctively, flapping languidly and gliding in a circle. He's wearing this huge, childlike grin that will split his face in two if he smiles any wider, the navy blue scarves of his hat trailing in his wake like the tail feathers of a magnificent bird of paradise.

'This is amazing, Freud,' laughs Phantom, spreading his arms to feel the air rushing past them.

Freud chuckles, spreading his own wings and coming quickly alongside Phantom. 'I know.'

Phantom grins happily at him, and Freud tries to memorize Phantom wearing the expression of someone trying out something new for the first time. Phantom folds his wings and lets himself fall backwards, plummeting down towards the ground and opening them at the last possible moment to swoop back up into the air. He maneuvers himself with such ease and grace, spinning in loops and little twirls, that Freud has to remind himself that Phantom has never ever 'flown' before, that Phantom is still human.

Phantom comes up beside him, grabbing his hand. The contact sends a sweet little shiver up his skin. The human touch is truly something Freud can't quite get enough of, especially since it's from Phantom. The thief is breathing hard, sheer exhilaration in his eyes, drunk on his flight.

'I wish I had wings while you were alive,' grins Phantom. 'I'd be able to chase you and Afrien down and never leave your side.'

Freud laughs. 'I think the Dragon Master would have burned off your feathers.'

Phantom pulls a face. He turns forward again, smiling, his hand tightens around Freud's as he leads him onwards through the air. Freud admires Phantom's lithe frame, the way his wings shift to catch the thermals. It's ironic, both of them physically angels, one of them's already dead and the other's guarding the memories of a man long gone, guarding something that will never really die.

They abandon the idea of breakfast to soar high above towns and trees and people, invisible and insignificant in this sliver of time. Phantom brings him higher than he's ever needed to go, to play amongst the clouds that aren't really as solid as they look. They are cool to the touch and evaporate like mist on his skin, and they leave trails like white watercolor smudges in the turbulence behind their wings.

Phantom brings Freud around the world, their wings making short work of distance. They're in the Dragon Master's memory, so the forests are blurry, but the towns are more sharply defined. They look different, they're unfamiliar to Freud now but they must've been this way three hundred years ago, frozen in time. He can see the roofs from here, the thatched houses of Henesys, the thicker and more overgrown forest of Ellinia, a barren land where Kerning City was. Ludibrium non-existent, Orbis is smaller, with fewer clouds and less towering spires, though the docks are still teeming with airships of all sizes…

'Freud,' says Phantom with a sidelong glance at him, 'You want to know more about your past, right?'

He blinks, surprised by the sudden and abrupt change of topic. 'I… well, it isn't my past, but…'

Phantom whirls around, comes up face to face with him in midair. Freud slows and they hover in front of each other, their hands clasped between them. Phantom is smiling gently now, eyes shining with a strange resigned nostalgia that makes Freud shiver.

'I don't know why we're here, in this particular time,' he murmurs, voice still audible over the rushing of the wind, 'But I'm sure there's a purpose for it.'

Freud tilts his head. 'Phantom? What's wrong?'

'Just answer my question.'

Of course the answer is yes, but he has a bad feeling about it. It's all but a dream, and he's sure that the answer he wants to say is the answer that will wake them up and thrust them back into reality.

'Yes,' he whispers anyway.

What is a dream if it lies in the way of the truth?

Phantom takes a deep breath and swallows hard. He points to the airships, one of them pulls away from the docks with a hiss of steam. 'Look. Those ships are armed for war… You can see the cannons, and the soldiers…'

Freud's eyes widen as he finally registers that the crudely-clad fairies mulling about the docks are meant to be soldiers, he just didn't have a clue that their clothes were the best they had for armor, back in the day.

'This means…'

Phantom smiles as recognition dawns. They take to the skies again, quickly overtaking the bulky airships that are headed to Leafre. Freud's heart pounds, he doesn't know what he's supposed to be seeing. War? Was this what Freud remembered of a war? If Phantom never pointed it out, he wouldn't even have known that they were in the midst of a full-blown war, not with the way everything seemed to be... in order, for now.

They land gently in a clearing. There are people everywhere. Warriors with heavy swords, archers with their bow and quiver, mages huddling together and chanting, thieves comparing poisoned knives, pirates slipping on their knuckles and loading their guns. Freud notices that most of the factions are dressed in the same way.

'The Knights of Ereve. You'd know them now as the Knights of Cygnus,' murmurs Phantom by way of explanation, as they thread through the mass of people and the uncomfortable silence that settles across the group.

'Where…'

Phantom pulls him along until they reach the end of the mass of people, and then further on some more.

Freud strode by, his expression one of utmost concentration and gravity, a calm understanding that spoke of the full knowledge of what this war entailed and more. He passed by the heroes, meeting their gaze with a gentle nod to encourage in the wordless way only he knew how to. He looked almost regal in the heavy red robes he wore, the familiar coiling calligraphy-styled dragon insignia printed on the front, his staff in his hand and complementing perfectly the headband in his hair.

Mercedes was polishing her bowguns, her relaxed demeanor hiding perfectly what everyone knew to be an elven queen who could milk the blood from her enemies' throats if need be. Aran was seated, cross-legged and meditating with Maha across her lap, quiet bloodlust radiating off her in waves. Luminous was seated opposite her, ice blue eyes cold and distant as he recited his old Harmony spells and incantations under his breath.

A distance away, Afrien raised his mighty horned head and pressed his muzzle to Freud's hand. Freud seemed to melt into the contact, the slight sagging of his shoulders the only thing to betray how great the tolls of war was on him. He closed his eyes, as if recollecting his thoughts, to the sound of Afrien's throaty rumble rolling softly around the glade.

'Freud.'

The sharp and crisp word broke the Dragon Master from his thoughts. Freud looked up to meet the gaze of a fiercely determined Master Thief stalking towards him. Phantom had a slightly harried look in his eyes, as if he had something he wanted to do but had yet to have done it. Despite his straight posture and his chin held high and without fear, Freud knew that something was wrong.

'You're here, Phantom,' said Freud quietly in greeting, choosing to wait until Phantom was ready to say what he wanted to say. 'How are you faring?'

Phantom opened his mouth, fighting to get words out.

Freud feels Phantom's hand tighten further, so painfully tight that Freud gasps softly. He looks up, willing himself not to make any sound.

Phantom's eyes are locked on the Dragon Master and the Master Thief in front of them, but even from the side, Freud can see an unspeakable sorrow and regret dulling his usually bright eyes.

As if in a trance, the thief's lips move. Reciting the lines to a play he has watched too many times.

'Aren't you afraid, Freud?' Phantom gritted out, bitterly and hesitantly, just loudly enough for the Dragon Master to hear.

'I am not,' replies Freud. 'Are you?'

Like the last living memory of his friend, played over in his mind too many times, come back to torment him once again.

'How can you be so calm?' Phantom's hands were fisted by his sides, his knuckles whitened and strained.

'I am not afraid, Phantom. Because I know we would have done our best. In preparation, and during the actual war, later.' Freud pulled away from Afrien but left one hand on his scaly hide as if to continue drawing strength the dragon while he talked.

Phantom finally managed to sum up enough courage to meet Freud's eyes. Freud saw nothing but a deep abyss there, a crevasse where fear and haunted thoughts lurked. 'But there are so many things to be done! I haven't stolen enough for my name to be world renowned yet, I haven't seen the world —'

'Phantom,' murmured Freud gently.

'I haven't awed the world enough with my greatness yet —'

'Phantom.'

'Hell I haven't told you that I —' Phantom blinked, his voice trailing off into nothing, as if shocked by the very words that he was about to say. Freud watched as Phantom closed his mouth, swallowing the words and the lump in his throat with great difficulty.

Phantom finds his heart pounding all over again. His breath hitches in his lungs. It's the same moment of weakness taking over him as it did those hundreds of years ago, those words, stuck in his throat. He knows the words. He knew the words, gods damn it he knew all along what he had planned to say. He had practiced so many times before, so why, why was it so hard, why couldn't he say those words —

I haven't told you that I loved you.

— and damn it all, now all he can do is watch, watch as Freud watched him try to right the wrongs he committed with Aria. Didn't he swear he would let Freud know, Freud of all people, know that he was loved?

'Phantom,' Freud pulled away from Afrien and strode forward. He stopped a few paces away from the silent thief, his hands gently clasping his staff. 'There will be time, later on.'

'Will you take time off your busy schedule for me?' said Phantom, after a moment's hesitation. His voice was strained, but Freud could tell he was trying to sound as cheery as he usually did.

'As much time as you want.'

'I'll fight the Black Mage for your life,' insisted Phantom weakly. 'No more stupid conferences or meetings or readings.'

Freud smiled, and nodded.

'Because it'd make you a very lame friend if I fought the world's greatest terror for you, only to have you unappreciative.'

'I know.'

'Think of all the things I've yet to do. I'm risking it all for you.'

'I know.'

Over in the distance, the low bellow of a horn rang out. The Knights got to their feet with a muted chatter, exchanging last words of encouragement. The Heroes too followed suit. Still Phantom and Freud stayed where they were. Between them hung the words they would perhaps never say to each other again, stifled in the silence that said too little and too much at once.

'We will meet again,' smiled Freud gently, extending his hand.

Phantom looked down, his deep purple eyes hidden under the shadow of his raven hat.

He took Freud's hand and gripped it firmly.

'Of course. Losing you would hurt more than losing a dear friend.'

Freud felt his eyes soften.

'I know.'

Phantom's hand tightened around Freud's. He looked down, sighing softly. Freud wanted to stay too, but fate was calling… and how could he refuse? It was the greatest battle of their lives, and the lives of everyone for generations.

Gently, Freud let go of Phantom's hand. The Thief kept his iron grip for a split second too long before pulling away, giving Freud a curt nod. Freud smiled and inclined his head in thanks, and then Phantom turned away, striding towards the other heroes.

Freud watches the Dragon Master turn back to Afrien and help Mercedes onto the dragon's back. Phantom has torn his eyes away from the scene before them and is checking his cane impulsively, almost as if he's going to war.

He takes Phantom's wrist gently, squeezing it in encouragement. 'Come on, Phantom.'

Phantom nods stiffly, a mindless puppet's movement. Together they spread their wings, lifting into the air just as Afrien takes off, carrying the Dragon Master and the Elven Queen on his back. Freud glances occasionally back at Phantom, but the thief's eyes are blank, stony and cold.

'I don't remember what happens beyond this,' Phantom confesses, his voice strangled.

'Didn't you join them in battle?' Freud looks curiously at him.

'I…' Phantom averts his eyes. 'I don't know. I don't remember.'

'They always spoke of the five heroes facing the Black Mage…'

'I know. I just… I still don't know what happened in the final battle, and they expect me to have gone, but I… I don't know…'

Freud grips Phantom's wrist tighter. 'You're afraid of seeing how Freud died, for the second time.'

'Technically, it's my first,' Phantom smiles shakily, 'Because I don't even remember stepping foot into the Temple of Time.'

They break through the clouds, riding in Afrien's slipstream for easier flying. The two heroes on Afrien's back are silent, in anticipation for what's to come. The last of the clouds fall away to nothing but in the distance, seemingly resting on nothing but clouds, the Temple of Time looms up before them, grander and far more vast than the entirety of Orbis. It towers into the heavens, the spires blurring as if testing the boundaries of space itself. The stones shine holy white in the sun, the fine golden carvings on the pillars and the roofs glittering where the light caught them.

In a second, the skies turn from summer blue to dusk shades, a muted mixture of sickly orange and blood red that seems to appear out of nowhere. Moons hang like shattered silver platters, cracked and pulsing with strange ephemeral energy. The clouds that surround the temple and its spires are but warped, clotted blood clinging to the walls.

Space itself seems to bend as they approach, the towers crumbling in rapid succession, sprouting strange tumorous growths of blackened magma like dried blood, and chains snake around the pillars and slowly turn the pristine marble charcoal black, as if polluting the very stones there. The sky grows darker with still and the moons fade away, obscured by some unholy haze, leaving one wicked sickle gleaming dully in a bruised sky of mottled purples and blues.

Phantom pulls Freud to a stop. 'I can't,' he says suddenly.

As if triggered by his voice, an entire awning and section of heavy stone groaned before buckling upon itself in a thick cloud of smoke and ash. The sound ripples through the air and Freud can almost feel it on his skin, like the ghostly touch of a summer breeze.

Freud glances at Phantom. 'You know your friends won the war.'

'I know, but…' Phantom slowly pulls his hand away from Freud. 'I've lived my entire life telling myself… I tell myself, at least I didn't see Freud die.'

Phantom grits his teeth and turns away from the onyx dragon and its master.

'I don't think I can watch him go.'

A distance away, Afrien landed in the middle of the bloodied clouds. Freud and Mercedes leaped off and the Dragon Master was quick to draw a simple glyph with his staff. Aran appeared in the midst of it, her cloak whipping about as if strewn by a winter gale.

She straightened and they exchanged glances, perhaps for the last time, before splitting ways. Freud led Mercedes into the temple, red robe billowing about him on a wind that wasn't really there, Afrien following carefully behind them both.

'Why are you here then?'

Phantom casts a sidelong glance at him. 'What?'

'If you can't bear to watch Freud die, then what are you doing here?' Freud asks gently, studying the thief.

'I…' Phantom drops his gaze. His voice is strained and small in the whirling winds of time when he finally finds his tongue. 'I said I'd help you find your memories…'

Freud smiles and takes Phantom's hand again. Phantom's fingers stay limp inside his grip, but he squeezes it anyway, as tightly as he can.

'You have helped me more than I can ever thank you for,' murmurs Freud.

Phantom doesn't respond.

'Phantom.' Freud gently cups his hand around Phantom's chin and tilts his head upwards. He holds Phantom's harried gaze calmly, knowing the reason for the guilt and regret he saw in those deep irises. 'I know it's hard… but if there's anyone who needs to see the end of this war more than I do… it's you.'

Phantom closes his eyes, as if the words themselves pain him. Freud notices the blonde tilt his head just slightly, leaning into his hand for comfort as he continues talking.

'It's hard. It really is. And I will never be able to imagine what you're feeling now…' Freud gently rubs his thumb over Phantom's cheek, 'But the question of "What If" will always haunt you more.'

Phantom inhales quietly before whispering, 'What if I can't understand his last words? What if he dies with a scream? What if he dies all bloody and broken, what do I do then?'

Freud smiles.

'I'll explain his last words. I'll listen to my last scream, with you.'

'But —'

'And if you know how he dies, and if you feel his pain,' Freud murmurs, 'You'd know how it feels like to be a guardian angel, then.'

Phantom opens his eyes.

Freud has never seen anyone haunted by these many demons.

'Only because you're here with me,' mutters Phantom.

Afrien rumbled as Freud and Mercedes leap onto his back again, the passageway was too cluttered with the armour of temple guards and monks, some of the stretches of marble were too treacherous to cross.

The King of the Onyx Dragons spreaded his wings and took to the air, soaring down the winding corridors of the Temple of Time with ease. The Elven Queen readied her bowguns, checking that they were notched and infused with the right spells for what was surely a long and gruelling battle ahead.

By the light of the sickly, waning moon, they flew onwards.

And the Dragon Master closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to calm the voices in his head and the stirring in his heart.

'This is it,' he murmured under his breath to nobody in particular, or to the gaping silence all around, 'We meet our fate here.'

And they might all have been going for a leisurely stroll, or to the ocean to watch the tides cresting on the shore, for Freud smiled then. It was calm, satisfied, and knowing. Even as Afrien blasted the heavy doors open with his magic and the Black Mage rose into view, Freud kept smiling.

Then he laughed, a short bitter laugh that spoke of regrets and dreams he never got the chance to fulfill before this very moment.

And amidst fires and flashes of magic, the war began.

AN:

School is catching up... updates, as you have already noticed, are slowing.

Once the crunchtime passes (oh and exams too damn it) I will continue. I intend to finish this even if it takes me a tooth and an arm.

In the meanwhile, I hope life is treating you all fine! Thanks for still sticking around :)