Chapter Five

It was well after eight o'clock when Zidane arrived in Alexandria. As he walked through the iron wrought entrance, he deftly pulled his hood up, tucking his blond hair back. Zidane kept his head low as he wandered down the familiar cobblestone path. It was dark between the streetlights. Distantly, frogs croaked in the alleys. It was relatively deserted in town. Only a few young kids gathered on front door stoops and some staggering drunkard lovers darted amongst the shadows in fits of giggles. As Zidane came into the dark marketplace plaza, he gazed above the red thatched rooftops, spying the emanation of lights and faint sounds of drums and celebrations. Across the plaza he heard the chime of a bell and spied a crowd of loud people funneling out the door. They were laughing and chatting as they began towards the stairs for the castle. Zidane walked rapidly in their wake, buttoning his cloak shut. He stood on the fringe of the group who were too busy with a night of partying to pay mind to him. Zidane blended in just well enough to cross on the gondola unsuspected. He kept his eyes on his boots as they awaited the small boat.

"I heard Queen Garnet is wearing the same dress from her last birthday," One of the girls said as she rouged her cheeks. "I know she's had a lot going on in her life, but you'd think a Queen would make time to have a dress tailored for herself."

"Elsa told me that a bunch of Duke's and Duchesses from Lindblum and Treno are taking their sons to the party to 'further alliances with the kingdom'," Another snorted as she did air quotes.

"I'm not afraid to go on the dance floor elbows swingin' to get a chance to dance with babe-ilicious Garnet," A boy laughed, thrashing about in an intoxicating manner.

The girl paused from applying her make up, melodramatically rolling her eyes at the snickering boys. "Anyway, I'm really glad Queen Garnet grew her hair back out. She isn't very cute with short hair."

"Oh, did you see what she was wearing when she did that public appearance at the new Girl's Preparatory?" Her friend grinned excitedly. "My little sister was there and said Queen Garnet has the newest crimson red leather high boots by Bernie. They were adorable, of course."

"Ugh, of course," The other girl slipped her hand mirror back into her purse.

Finally, the gondola emerged from the night, bobbing on the moon itself. The girls climbed in while Zidane sneaked just onto the far end, opposite of the operating Knight of Pluto. With his black cloak, he felt confident he would evade any concern. Zidane peaked out from beneath his hood, peering around a girl's shoulder to see the Alexandrian Castle growing in sight. It seemed so festive with the banners and flags. A nice cool breeze came over Zidane and he had to grab his hood from falling back. It seemed as if the party had only began. It was so full of energy. A tall looming figure caught his attention in the background and his heart hammered in his chest. It looked just like the Prima Vista. Was Tantalus here? Zidane lowered his eyes, his breathing shallowing. The boat bumped the edge of the sloped marble steps and Zidane was quick to remain side by side with the departing passengers. He broke away from them quickly. They went for the bar, Zidane pushed himself between two tables of food, disappearing into the garden. He weaved through it despite not knowing where he was going. He only wanted a quiet spot to collect himself. It was much more overwhelming than he thought. The intricate footwork they did on the dance floor, the music, and plates of food- it was all so familiar, like the home he had missed. It had been gone for so long, though, he didn't know how to receive it anymore. Morrid was right. He didn't really understand who he was. And if he couldn't be himself, what would his friends think of him? Zidane ground his teeth together from the nonsensical roundabouts in his head. He was a basket case. Nobody in their right minds would be happy to see him this way.

Frustrated in his thoughts, Zidane came sharply around the corner of a hedge, but found himself back pedaling silently. Someone was having their own time-out in the back dark corner of the garden. Quietly, Zidane brought his head around the corner, keeping his hood pulled down. It was a thin girl with a white dress that nearly glowed in the milky moonlight. She was pressed against the marble ledges of the windy garden, leaves and roses dangling around her wiry body. Her full skirt crumpled around her, almost like a balloon. She let out a long sigh, pulling her hands down from covering her face. She tilted her head, looking to the sky. That's when the shadows fell across her face just right. Zidane felt himself go cold. It was Garnet. He felt his heart thundering in his chest and he knelt as a rush of blood came up to his head. He could hear in the distance the beats of drums, the hoots and hollers of those enjoying a pleasant spring evening, yet here was the birthday girl all by herself, tucked into the foliage, as if to hide from it all. That seemed so wrong to Zidane. She should have been in the spotlight being celebrated for the wonderful person she was. He pursed his lips as he watched her sigh again and slump her shoulders. His body urged him to move, to go towards her. Zidane only wanted to take all of her hurt away and scoop her familiar body into his arms. Yet, something still held him back.

In the next beat, he heard footsteps and Zidane withdrew further behind the hedge. Barely peaking out from beneath his hood, he spied a young man with floppy brown hair emerge. Zidane watched him with intense hard eyes, pushing the hedge back for a better view. He was dressed in an olive green velvet shirt with long sleeves embroidered in golds. His dark slacks complimented his height. "Garnet," He said gently. "Are you alright? Your friend, Blank, said you needed some thinking space." Garnet pursed her lips, looking to the man. She was doing everything in her power not to burst into tears. "It's your birthday, Your Majesty. You shouldn't have to deal with business tonight. Whatever your friend needed can wait until you've refreshed from the party. Come on, the chilled wine is being delivered. You deserve to have fun. Your Aunt Hilda is growing impatient, too."

"I'm sorry," Garnet replied in her soft melodious voice. It nearly tore Zidane's heart into two. He had dreamed about that voice for so long. And the lyrics of her song had played endlessly in his head, fervently, like a fever. Having her so close again shook him to his utter core. "Unfortunately it's not a job where you're ever off duty."

"This is just one evening," The man grinned, placing his gloved hand to Garnet's bare shoulder. "Everyone who has business with you is here, anyway, having a great time. We should, too."

"I suppose you're right," Garnet nodded, dipping her head. Her onyx locks fell around her slender face, making Zidane's heart race. "I can't fix everything, anyway."

"There is nothing to be fixed on your birthday, Your Majesty," He held his hand out towards her. She was very slow to accept it, coming to her feet. Her dress furled around her, a magnificent ball gown, and one Zidane realized he recognized. "I'll tell you what's to be fixed, however; the left engine of Regent Cid's new Blue Rose airship."

"Oh, now this is the gossip I'd like to hear, Liam," Garnet smiled. "Do tell how he envisions to out-do my castle's Red Rose."

Liam linked arms with Garnet in the next moment and they left. Her heels became quieter and quieter with each pace away. Zidane bit down on his lip, sliding onto the ground. Miserably, he stretched his legs out, uncomfortably cocking his head against the marble ledge. Above him, the stars glimmered. He knew Morrid was most likely at his perch, peering through his telescope, and making notes. And yet, here Zidane was, laying on the ground like a fool at the Alexandrian Castle. What had he expected? For all he knew, that was Garnet's husband. He was too late. Zidane squeezed his eyes shut, cursing beneath his breath. He felt like the biggest idiot ever. He had missed out on his once in a lifetime opportunity. And what had it all been for? Zidane clenched his teeth together, sitting forward. Kuja had only done the same thing he had done to his friends all those months ago: sent them away. Now, he had to pay the price.

After sitting there like a fool for a few more minutes, Zidane decided to keep looking around. Where was Steiner? Or Beatrix? Even their friends? Was Tantalus here? Was Blank? He was quiet in his step, moving forward with his cloak concealing him amongst the slanted shadows of the garden. The plaza on the waterfront was bursting with light and he paused just meters from the edge of it. He couldn't go in there. Someone would see his face or recognize him. He felt his tail tense against his back. Zidane went further into the shadows, pressing himself to the hedges that bordered the party. He saw through the intricate web of twigs the movement and music of the party. Everyone was dining like kings and dancing like the merriest men in the world. It wasn't too long ago the world had been clouded with self-doubt and anxiety. Now, there wasn't a care to be found as women were flung around the dance floor, their skirts sailing up around their thighs. Zidane paused, his breath hitching in his throat, as he scanned the crowd. There was Vivi and Steiner on the outskirts of the crowd, near the water. He must have walked right by them with his tunnel vision to disappear. He had entered this castle like a ghost, it seemed. Steiner and Vivi were caught in what looked to be an invigorating conversation. Zidane shifted through the twigs quietly, hoping not to disturb nearby diners. Freya was crouched down not too far away from the previous duo. She had chosen not to wear a hat that night and her ashen hair glowed in the torch light. She was wearing a light yellow coat with fluffy cuffs and was busy fixing a pearl clip snapped into Eiko's long hair. Eiko seemed so much older in her fine clothes. Cheering the dancers on were Lady Hilda, swishing a glass of red wine dangerously close to her gown. She dangled swimmingly off of Regent Cid's arm as they watched with smiles as Liam and Garnet took up the center of the floor. Zidane pursed his lips, feeling as if his heart was being crumpled like parchment in his chest.

Beyond the dance floor, though, Zidane spied through the throngs of moving bodies, a table occupied by Tantalus. Blank had his head in his hand, his eyes fixated on his empty plate like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He stewed in his mind, completely absent from the laughter of Ruby, Cinna, and Marcus. The trio drank their wine and passed around bread baskets of all kinds of marbling. But Blank was motionless. Zidane drew himself away from the hedge, crouching down in the darkness yet again. His cloak rumpled around his bent knees and he sighed, dipping his head. He didn't know what to do. He was confronted, in that moment, with so many memories with the people beyond the hedges. Life had continued without him and he felt hesitant to jump back in. The sound of fast paced boots caught his attention and he pressed himself deeper in the shadows, watching as General Beatrix whizzed by an aisle. He then heard awful retching. Zidane furrowed his brow as the uneasy sound of vomiting reached his ears. It wasn't long before the clattering of Steiner's armor was heard. Deftly, Zidane darted through the shadows, kneeling on the other side of the hedge from Beatrix. He pinched his face and turned his head away, hearing her throw up just through the branches.

"I brought you some water," Steiner said. Zidane pressed his sticky palms to the cobblestone as his familiar voice rang through his head, as haunting as a drill sergeant.

Beatrix cleared her throat and was quiet a moment. Zidane heard the shifting of her boots to the stone. "You should go back to the party and be with your friends. Your Majesty seems to be in good spirits, too."

"But you are not well," Steiner insisted. "Beatrix, you can't fool around anymore. Your journey to the Outer Continent was over a month ago and whatever you brought back with you, you can't shake on your own. You need medicine. Tomorrow, please, will you see the doctor in the infirmary? I'll even go with you."

"I can take care of myself," Beatrix seemed exasperated. "I'm fine, Steiner. You needn't worry yourself like you do."

"You know I'm going to worry," Steiner countered. "What's wrong with a second opinion?"

There was the sound of pacing again. Zidane remained tense, ready to zip out of sight in a moments notice. "It would be a waste of the doctor's time, Steiner. It's nothing serious, I promise."

"But how do you know?"

There was silence for a few beats. Zidane looked towards the hedges expectantly. "I have the second-shift of my soldiers in the east and west wings. Your men are in the towers. I believe that will be ample support for tonight's party. They know their orders, to only let the select boarding guests remain. They'll be sure to escort the rest from the premises. I'm going to retire for the night."

"Perhaps I should come with you."

"You should stay and mingle," Beatrix was quick to reply. "Master Vivi came all the way from the Black Mage Village to be with you tonight."

"Beatrix…" Steiner's voice seemed so full of hurt. Zidane heard the sound of Beatrix's boots walking away. He saw her shadow come across the aisle and be backpedaled silently, pulling his hood down.

"If it will make you happy, Steiner…" She was slow to say. "We'll see the doctor tomorrow afternoon, after I finish my duties with the birthday brunch for Her Majesty."

"You will?"

"For you, to ease those nerves? Yes," Beatrix replied. "Good night, Steiner." And with that, Zidane watched her shadow bob out of sight, slanting across the next hedge she passed. Zidane was unmoving, listening to Steiner walk a few paces. After a moment, Steiner continued back to the party. Zidane's heart beat rapidly in his chest as he attempted to piece together the lives of his friends. Vivi lived in Black Mage Village now? Beatrix had gone to the Outer Continent? What for?

Behind him, the drummer beat ferociously against his instrument and the crowd resounded in applause. "Thank you, thank you!" The bag pipe player wailed. "We don't deserve this kindness! The presentation of a wonderful rendition of I Want to Be Your Canary is a hard act to follow, folks! A very happy birthday to Her Majesty, Queen Garnet. Let's dance some more!" The crowd cheered in response and after a moment, the band kicked off yet again. Zidane returned to the hedge and was nearly startled to see Garnet and Liam at the table directly in front of him, choosing from a variety of wines and champagnes. Liam smiled at the side of the Queen as she chose a delicate flute glass, holding it close to her chest. Zidane felt a weight coming over him. It seemed so wrong of a scenario. Here he was, peering through some brush to look at Garnet, when just months ago, he had been holding her in his arms, doing everything in his power to protect her from the world. But again, he found himself conflicted and Morrid's advice raced through his mind. Who you are and who you want to be are two different people.

…

It was nearing midnight and the party was beginning to wane. A few people straggled to finish the rest of their drinks or chow down on one more plate from the fine cooks of Alexandria. Quina helped the cooks clear platters one by one, excited to see leftovers. Guards helped shoo people towards the gondola. After watching Garnet bow to Liam and descend to the castle, stealthily, Zidane merged back into a rowdy drunk crowd and got on the gondola. Luckily, the soldier was too busy asking the patrons to be still to notice the odd man with the tilted head in the cloak. From beneath his hood, Zidane watched the lighted Alexandria Castle grow small as he crossed the wide river. Some maids were already busy swiping linens from tables and sweeping the cobblestone path. Steiner came by to give orders every now and then. Zidane's heart panged in hurt. He was happy to see everyone was relatively okay. He couldn't help but think he'd missed out on so much, though. The boat bobbed against the water as his own mind did against his heart.

Being back in Alexandria was harder than he thought. Zidane watched the ripples dissipate from the boat. From behind, a girl accidentally elbowed him in the back, but he didn't even notice. Zidane was too wrapped up in his mind to notice anything. The days he spent at Morrid's, all he seemed to desire was to be with the people he had given his heart and life. But now, it all seemed much too difficult. So much time had passed. Everyone seemed to be well on the road to recovery. Zidane didn't think he could make an appearance again with his own wounded heart and undo everyone's undoubtedly hard spent months in recovery from everything that happened. Zidane's entire mind was going for a whirl.

Like a deflated balloon, he bobbed at everyone's heels as he clambered off the gondola. The boisterous crowd of friends began to break apart, wishing each other a good night. Zidane, however, found himself all alone now in the silent marketplace plaza. He let out a long sigh, pushing his hood back on his shoulders. What now? He thought sourly to himself. He turned to spy the top of the Alexandrian Castle, standing tall and proud in all its glory. Zidane ground his teeth together and turned, heading blindly down an alleyway. He steered himself in no general direction, lost in his mind. He glanced about at the quiet and shiny storefront windows. A creaky wooden sign dangling above caught his attention and he stopped in the dark alleyway, catching the slivers of moonlight fall over a sign for a basement theater playhouse. Zidane glanced towards the stairs leading down, seeing it was also closed. He let out a huff, seating himself on the stairs and pressing his elbows to his knees. He wondered if Ruby still ran the playhouse, arranged the productions, and brainstormed unique cocktails. He also wondered if the band still got together to drink themselves silly. He hoped so.

Distantly, a bell chimed, signaling the top of the hour. Night time was sailing past Zidane. He didn't know where to go, though. The no vacancy signs were plastered in every window because of Queen Garnet's birthday gala. He was not tired, however, and after lingering long enough on the stairs of wading memories, he began walking again. Alexandria had not changed much. The reconstruction had brought life and vibrancy back to the modest kingdom. There were all sorts of fancy tailors and seamstresses. Florist shops sported decadent and intricate bouquets. Artisans displayed their finest works and delis dangled large hunks of meats by the windows to show their premium selection. There wasn't another soul on the streets now as Zidane bobbed about the town like a lost kitten. He felt like he had always had a clue or a sense of direction just a year ago, but now, he was uncertain of what'd he do or where he'd go. Zidane felt completely out of sorts with no wayward direction. He longed to return to his friends, yet something still held him back. Their lives had all seemed to take of meaningful paths. He felt invisible to them, not even worth their time. But what would he do with himself?

A gust of wind barreled through the alley, blowing Zidane's hood back over his head. He clutched his cloak as it whipped about. As Zidane managed to pull the hood off again, something flapping against a wood post caught his attention. Upon further inspection, he realized it was a flyer that was beginning to lose its tacks. He stared intently at it, his blond bangs falling across his forehead. Pursing his lips, he tore it from the wood post, clutching it between his hands tightly.

Alexandria Thrives on Heroes
And Sleeps Soundly with Bravery

Enlist Today in the

Knights of Pluto!

Zidane's eyes hovered on the charcoal drawing of the familiar uniform on a thin young man. Zidane furrowed his blow and glanced towards the night sky. The clustered sanguine sky glittered at him. He had come to realize through Morrid the stars said so much if one would only stop and listen. The night was still again, not another breeze. Zidane looked to the poster once more, wondering if just maybe it was a sign. A purpose. He wouldn't have to be away from his friends, but he would never truly be interfering. Zidane could make sure Garnet was alright. And repay Steiner in some indirect way. Having the work would be good to take his mind off things. And maybe with time… Zidane could learn to feel better again.

Submit interest at the Gondola Station
8am - 4pm

…

The warm spring sun fell over Zidane's face as the dewy morning cloud cover began to break. Again the bells rang, signifying it was seven in the morning. Zidane rubbed sorely at his neck as he raised his head from his backpack. Not far from him, the canal water lapped against the mossy concrete and the docks just a few feet away were already bustling with men pushing their boats out. In Zidane's hand, the crumpled flyer from the night before was gripped tightly, as if it was the only tangible part of his destiny. He took in the fishy scent of the docks as he unscrewed the lid of the coffee thermos. He placed the flyer beneath a rock, making a face at the taste of cold coffee. It was better than anything, though. Zidane would need all the energy he could get to grapple with his task that day.

His heart beat rapidly at the idea of enlisting as a Knight of Pluto. His biggest obstacle was how? Zidane couldn't go marching in there as the new recruit. What if it required an interview with the Captain? He slowly licked his lips, watching a few cats stroll the ledge, glancing tentatively at the fishermen. Zidane would just have to go and ask. After drinking a quarter of the thermos, he decided to get moving. Zidane was somewhat stiff as he rose and he gave his clothes a good pat. After a moment, he paused, tugging at his vest. Zidane shrugged out of it to reveal his white undershirt, stuffing the vest into his backpack. He whisked his cloak over his shoulders, pressing his tail to his back.

The streets were alive with energy when just hours before, they were empty and quiet. Men and women alike shouted for their wares. Booth vendors were already busy serving cups of coffee, warm pastries, and sack lunches for workers in a hurry. The shop windows showed owners and employees sweeping and straightening shelves in preparation for another busy day. Zidane found himself in a crowd of people as he entered the large marketplace. He paused to look at the castle that glowed in the early morning light. Zidane found himself looking between all the vendors. He needed new clothes, anything to make him not seem like himself. Zidane took his time looking over a vendor of long coats, but he ultimately decided it against it. Another vendor sported woolly hats which seemed voluminous and hot for the time of year. Zidane let out a huff, turning on the balls of his feet. He turned to look at a table of hand painted Tetra Cards when a sign just beyond the artists shoulder caught his attention.

A hairdresser shop promising a hair washing, a cut, and anything of one's desire for not many gil. Zidane ran his hands through his hair as he approached the store front. Just inside the window, a woman with curly blond hair piled a top her head was busy polishing a pair of scissors. A haircut, Zidane considered. It would certainly help him cut the uniform better. It would be less suspicious from behind, granted he kept his tail from sight. Before Zidane had completely thought it through, the bell was ringing as he pushed the door open.

"Good mornin'!" The woman called, flashing a sweet smile. "Welcome to the Honey Salon! You can have yourself a seat here in front of the mirror."

Zidane felt stiff as he came across the parlor, setting his backpack on the ground. He eased himself into the seat, staring dully at his reflection. It was as if he didn't even recognize himself. Someone else entirely was staring back at him. The woman brought a white silk blanket around Zidane's rather rugged travel clothes. She grinned at their reflection, placing her slender hands on his shoulders. "Now you're a new face! Traveling merchant?" Zidane managed a robotic nod. " Well, more than happy to serve you, mister. What can I do for you? A shampoo to get the dust out? A trim to take the years off?"

Zidane cleared his throat. "Yes, both. And… do you color hair?"

"Color?" She arched her eyebrows, reaching to test the texture of his hair. "What'd you want?"

"Something darker," Zidane told her. "Something brown."

"Are you sure?" The hairdresser placed her hands on her hips. "Going dark isn't really in season right now. Most people come in askin' for something like yours."

"I'm not one to really keep with the trends," Zidane said, pressing himself to the cold leather chair.

"Well, alright," The woman nodded. "Let me mix a treatment up. You can tell me if you like it. And do you just want your dead ends trimmed?"

"No, I want it short," Zidane felt rather numb. "Take the ponytail off… layer the rest of it."

"I can do that," She grinned, running her hands through his hair again. "Now, let's get you washed up."

…

"… the last four months of my trip to Lindblum were useful when I finally was able to contact a book dealer in town with quite the collection," Vivi explained to Steiner as the two slowly made their rounds through the garden. The maids still worked furiously to get rid of the evidence of such a raging party. Streamers, confetti, even bottles of beer, hung in the hedges and the floor was littered with crumpled fabrics and linens. Vivi and Steiner found themselves amongst the hedges with blossoming roses bordering them. "I found some books I thought were only part of ancient lore and they had pages intact to read about the type of dark arts behind black magic."

"Anything useful?" Steiner arched his eyebrows, his hands poised politely behind his back. Steiner and Vivi held a very close relationship following the aftermath of Kuja's downfall. They felt they truly understood each other. Vivi had been working tirelessly in the past few months to live amongst the Black Mages in the Village and learn more about their creation. His ultimate goal was to figure out a way to extend their lifespans and create a better quality of life. Though Steiner was always very supportive of this goal, at the moment, he seemed to be slightly unavailable, his mind wandering from him.

"More ingredients and resources to get closer to understanding and achieving these powers," Vivi nodded. When Steiner didn't reply, the Mage glanced towards his companion. "I'm sorry, Steiner. I haven't stopped talking about these books all morning. Is everything alright?"

Steiner perked up. "No, it is I who must apologize, Master Vivi. Everything you're telling me is wonderful news and very fascinating."

"Something is wrong, though," Vivi stopped walking. His long coat with embroideries of ivy's waved in the gentle spring breeze.

Steiner was still for a moment before heaving a sigh. "My mind is on Beatrix, I'm sorry."

"Is she okay?" Vivi tilted his head.

"Yes… I mean, well, for the most part," Steiner pursed his lips, reaching for a velvety rose. "She's simply a stubborn beast, Master Vivi. She refuses to stay down when she should."

Vivi adjusted his hat and paced a few steps. "I'd say we're all a little guilty of that."

"I've finally convinced her to see a doctor," Steiner said, looking over his shoulder. "We go in just an hour and I'm nervous, Master Vivi. What if she's gravely ill?"

"I doubt it's grave," Vivi shook his head. "I saw her this morning."

"And?"

"Well, she definitely looked pale," Vivi told him. "A little on the warm side. Maybe it's just the common cold."

"I think it's desert fever," Steiner and his friend continued walking, stepping over a pile of confetti a maid was desperately trying to contain.

"I… don't think that's a thing, Steiner," Vivi's golden eyes fell across the sheepish captain.

"So, we can transport ourselves to a new planet, but you can't inhale too much sand and get sick?" Steiner furrowed his brows.

"Well, you have a point…" Vivi said.

"I'm just worried, Master Vivi," Steiner again found himself drawing his hands behind his back. "Beatrix will work herself to death if she had the choice."

"It's a good thing she has someone like you."

"Thank you, Master Vivi. Truly."

…

That early afternoon, Garnet found herself in the personal study room for the monarchs of Alexandria. Portraits of all the past leaders hung on the wall, completely surrounding her. As she did her best to focus on the literature sent to her by concerned citizens, she couldn't help but feel like all the past rulers were staring at her. Garnet pressed her hand to her forehead, tilting her head down to follow the loopy writing of a seamstress who was complaining of large import taxes on fabrics. Still, it felt like the eyes of the portraits were boring into her shoulders, her head, all over her. Garnet closed her eyes for a moment, hoping her headache would wane. Her first day as a seventeen year old was not quite how she envisioned it. But she took a deep breath, focusing again at the beginning of the complaint. Beside her, a tall stack of letters written to the Queen awaited her review so she could construct her quarterly response to the people. But Garnet felt so overwhelmed. She knew she couldn't take a break or rest her eyes; the people of Alexandria relied on her to read their complaints, their inquiries, and their wishes. Her head throbbed, however, at the task. She was very tired. Garnet hadn't slept well the night before. After she had retired from her party, she ended up laying bed and staring at the ceiling for hours. Mainly, she thought about Zidane. She recounted the many memories she had made with the tailed boy. How could it be that just one year later, he would be gone without a trace. Garnet sighed, combing her hand along the fluffy quill laid beside her. The historic ink well that was said to have been made for the first King of Alexandria gleamed in the afternoon light. She thought to Blank's request, feeling her insides constrict. Her eyes hovered over the request in front of her for a moment more before she decided to push it aside. She simply couldn't be bothered to worry about the cost of textiles to Alexandria. Garnet heaved a sigh, reaching for the next parchment which made an inquiry about longer fishing docks in the west of Alexandria. Suddenly, however, the doors to her study flung open and Hilda appeared, wrapped in a comfortable powder pink gown.

"Good afternoon, darling!" Hilda called as Garnet hunched her shoulders from being startled. Garnet sighed, laying her quill across her spacious desk and looked over her shoulder at her aunt. Lady Hilda's sweet blond hair had been braided to resemble a fish tail. In her hand, a bubbly cup of water fizzled. "I certainly hope you're not too hungover from your party. It looked as if you were having an absolute ball." The Lady grinned, seating herself on a purple velvet love seat beneath the solemn portrait of the first Queen of Alexandria. "No need to thank me, of course, darling. Just give me the juicy details."

Garnet sagged her shoulders, her white button up crinkling. "There isn't much to say… I'm in the middle of something, Aunt Hilda. Who let you in here? These are supposed to be my private quarters."

Lady Hilda laughed, her shoulders bobbing up and down. "Oh, darling, I'm the Regent's wife. They listen quite well to me around these parts. Come on over here, sweetheart. I've asked a maid to bring us some afternoon tea and carrot cake."

"I really must keep working on these," Garnet gestured towards the tall stack of parchment.

"Oh, the people will never stop complaining," She waved her hand dismissively. "Worry about that another time. I am asking to speak to you, darling."

Garnet tapped her nails against the edge of the desk. "If this is about Liam, there is nothing to discuss."

"Garnet, sweetheart!" Lady Hilda jumped straight to her feet, her skirt ballooning with her energy. "You know that's exactly what I wish to discuss. I watched you two all night! I saw you two emerge from the dark garden."

"It isn't what you think," Garnet looked over her shoulder. Nervously, she smoothed her orange skirt, picking imaginary lint from it. "He's a nice boy… knows a fascinating amount about airships."

"Are you telling me, darling, that Liam didn't get a goodnight smooch from you?" Lady Hilda furrowed her brow.

"Of course not," Garnet looked equally as perplexed. She pressed her back stiffly to her chair. "I only just met him, Aunt Hilda. I couldn't possibly consider kissing him."

"Oh, and why not?" Hilda came to stand beside Garnet's desk, pressing her manicured nails to the dark wood. "He's a strapping young man and you're an exquisite young lady!" Hilda grinned. "Besides, I think you two would make cute babies."

"Aunt Hilda!" Garnet's cheeks heated up and she found herself moving across the private study, her arms crossed over her chest. "I wish you would simply drop it."

"Darling…" Hilda sighed, her heels echoing across the room. She approached Garnet, wrapping her arms around her wiry shoulders and pulling her in close. "I don't mean to cause you grief or hound you… I'm only thinking of your best interest, you know that, right? What you're doing to yourself is so unfair. You're a Queen. You should be allowed to let your hair down sometimes. You should be free to feel however you want. You cannot punish yourself because of one boy."

Garnet pursed her lips together, keeping her pinched face turned away from Hilda. "It's unfair, Aunt Hilda… that he died and I lived. It all still feels too fresh. I'm… I'm not ready yet. Can't you respect that?"

"Darling, I'm sorry, I just worry if I don't give you a push, you're going to sink into this goo of emotions. You're my niece, you're a beautiful young girl… I only want what's best for you. I think you should see Liam again. Perhaps at your Uncle Cid's airship gala next month? Of course Liam will be there. He's built dozens of ships," Hilda smiled, giving Garnet a squeeze. "Think of it as your second date. And a polite woman will give a peck on the second date."

"That will only give the tabloids more yarn to spin," Garnet shook her head. "I barely know him. It would be inappropriate to have him escort me at the gala."

"You know," Lady Hilda shot Garnet a deadpanned look. "For such a beautiful young woman who has just about any male under your dark and smoldering enchantment, you play far too nicely." She clucked her tongue. "Please, darling, won't you consider him again?"

Garnet's eyes fell above the fireplace mantle where the portrait of her mother hung. She chewed on her lip for a moment before she sighed. "I will consider it."

…

Zidane raked his soft dark hair from his face as he emerged from the salon. His boyishly layered and shaggy brown hair fell across his forehead, clawing over his bold brows. He couldn't remember the last time he had cut his hair. It felt almost like he lost fifty pounds. The marketplace was even more busy as the early afternoon began to wane on. Zidane clipped the gold button of his cloak together and began down the stairs, tilting through the crowds of people. His heart was thundering in his chest as he watched the castle tower higher and higher over him. He almost felt like he was going to throw up. Maybe even faint. He approached a rather bored looking Knight of Pluto who flipped through a hunting magazine beneath the tall stone archway of the gondola station.

"Excuse me," Zidane said.

"Let me guess…" The knight muttered. "Lookin' for the best inn? Maybe a pub?" The knight looked up and down at Zidane's tired travel clothes.

"No, actually," Zidane shook his head. "I was going to ask what I needed to do to enlist." He withdrew the crumpled flyer from his pocket.

"Enlist?" The knight echoed. "You want to be a Knight of Pluto?"

"Ever since I was a kid," Zidane lied, nodding his head.

"You don't look much older than one."

"Hey, the flyer doesn't say squat about age," Zidane countered. "Just tell me what I have to do."

"Alright, alright," The soldier stood straight now, closing the magazine. "I'll take you across the river and to the barracks. The assistant to the Captain, Breireicht, will interview you. You'll have to pass a physical, answer some questions, and then you'll practically be a soldier." Together, the men stepped into the buckling gondola. Zidane's cloak flared around him as he gazed across the river at the Alexandrian Castle. His heart hammered loudly, nearly making his entire body shake. The soldier dug the long stick into the murky bottom of the river. "So… where're you from?"

"Lindblum…" Zidane said quietly, his eyes never leaving the castle.

"Lindblum, huh? Well, you'll fit in just fine, I think," The soldier said, pushing with great effort to keep the gondola moving. "What's your name?"

Zidane blinked his blue eyes slowly, tilting his head as the castle grew larger and larger in his vision. "Zeke," He finally said. "Zeke Tisdoll."