Ritz stood at the corner until Marche was out of sight. She worried for him. She hadn't known Marche more than a day before their Ivalice, but the time spent with him inside was years of nothing but growth. Growth not only between her and Marche, but her, Mewt and Doned. Their time there, disputes and pleasantries, created unbreakable bonds.

"I'm sorry." She mocked, turning on her heel and starting down the way, "Yeah, and I'm sorry for not letting you get flattened, might've saved me some ti—"

She bit her tongue and shook her head. She knew that she shouldn't think such things, even in a frustrated jest. Marche was a genuinely nice person, and now one of her better friends, something she would've never predicted when their swords and ideals met in combat. She remembered her anger there, in those woods. Her desire to keep the world they'd created. That anger seemed so silly now. She was in her town, with good friends, family. A place that she couldn't wake from and was happy in.

"Ritz."

Mewt had stepped outside just as Ritz passed. He smiled at her before turning to lock the door behind him.

"Hello, Mewt." said Ritz

"What're you up to today?" Mewt asked, descending the stoop.

Ritz pointed to the yellow house at the end of the block, "Doned called and said he wanted to talk."

"Perfect." Mewt said, "That's where I'm headed too."

"Oh?" Ritz frowned, "Is it about Marche?"

"Yeah. He just left a few minutes ago. He was acting…strange, so I gave Doned a call, hoping for a clue."

"Strange, how?" asked Ritz.

"He asked me if I hated him and seemed to be in a hurry for an answer. The way he was acting, I would have thought he'd just gotten back from our Ivalice."

Ritz bit her lip. She remembered what it was like that morning, returning to St. Ivalice. Waking in a bed, in pajamas to the normality of childhood after years of monsters, Judges, magic and adventure. The loss of it was a hollow in her gut, the loss of the world vanished, it hurt. The first thing she did was cry. Hard, bitter tears. The kind of sobs that racked the body. She cried for an entire world and for that hole to somehow be filled.

"Hopefully, Doned can help." She said, "Walk with me?"

"Pleasure." Mewt said, smiling.

# # #

Doned sat at the living room window, looking out across the yards and houses, all dressed with snow. His arms crossed over his lap and a red blanket was over his legs. The weather had been getting progressively worse throughout the day. Doned had watched it go from gray skies to breezy rain to snow. The world amazed him, it was always changing, always growing.

Looking out at the world was a double-edged sword. It brought ease, but also a kind of sadness—a sadness that constantly reminded him of his condition and the way he had to live. He slapped at his legs, reminding himself that he wasn't paralyzed, just sick. There was a chance that he'd get to walk someday and he held onto that hope, using it like an antidote to sadness. Besides, he had good friends and a good life anyway, the number of complaints paled to that of positives.

There was a knock at the front door.

"It's open!" He yelled. He heard the door open and close and rolled his way to the entry hall to see Mewt and Ritz both kicking off their shoes and removing coats and hats.

"Hi, Doned." Mewt said, rubbing his hair free of snow.

"Come in, come in." Doned said, waving a hand, "Let's sit in the living room."

Mewt and Ritz sat on the sofa, Doned across the coffee table in his chair. On the table was a tin tray full with multi-colored frosted cookies and slices of watermelon.

"So…" Mewt said, taking one of the orange-frosted cookies, "Marche?"

"Acting strange." Ritz said, carefully taking a slice of melon.

"Did you both run into him?" Doned asked. Mewt and Ritz nodded.

"Asked me if I hated him." Mewt said.

"Me too." Ritz said.

"He told me about a dream he had last night." Mewt said, "Maybe that's the cause? Did he mention that to you?"

Ritz shook her head, "Nope." They both turned to Doned.

"Well, uh…" Doned hesitated, "He did but I don't want to say anything that he wouldn't want said. Besides, he didn't say much. He never does."

"Well, that's Marche for you." Ritz cut in, wiping her mouth before speaking, "I mean, I've known him only a few years, but I still know that his issues are his issues to him. Like a chest, locked with a key."

Mewt shook his head, "Realistically, you've only known him for less than a year."

"You know what I meant."

Doned smiled, "Yeah, Ritz and Marche saw a lot of each other in our Ivalice, or so I hear."

"We did. We became good friends, despite it all."

"Despite all of what ?" Mewt asked.

"Our ideals. I wanted to stay and he wanted to go home. I guess I'll always find it strange that we're friends now."

"It is a odd kind of clash." Mewt said, "Marche and I were so adamant against each other there, two swords always drawn. I can still remember the flight of power-that rush of being royalty. Then you wake up and it's gone. Despite it, I still put stock into my friendship with Marche."

Doned spoke up, "I've thought about this for a long time and I've come to the conclusion that our Ivalice and St. Ivalice are two different places-"

"Well, yeah." Ritz said, rolling her eyes. Mewt laughed.

"No, I mean, different not only in appearance and location, but different in that we're different there. Like…like we're us…but…"

"Truer." Mewt said flatly, "Kind of like I was just backseat to a different me."

Doned looked at Ritz, "That feeling of knowing Marche for years, when you only knew him for a day or so in St. Ivalice, is your Ivalice self being with him."

"Wait." She said, "Let me try and clarify this psycho-blah-blah. What you two are saying is that in our Ivalice, I wasn't me? That I was a different me?"

"You were you." Mewt said, "Just with all of what you thought your flaws were fixed, at least, in your eyes. Your hair was red, you could fight and…"

"Shara was with me." Ritz shut her eyes, "I get it. So all the time I was our Ivalice, me and Marche, all of us, we were growing closer on a more…" She rolled her wrist, fishing for a word, "subliminal level?"

Doned shrugged, "Something like that. "

"It was that book that started it all." Mewt said, leaning for a another cookie and watermelon slice.

Ritz smirked, "Yeah. I'm glad we got rid of that thing."

"I'll say." Mewt handed Ritz the watermelon, which she took with thanks, "I couldn't wait to hide it away. It was all I could think about during school."

Ritz choked in surprise. She pointed at Mewt.

"You went to school that day?"

"Yeah. I mean, It wasn't easy, but I did."

"Better than me." Doned said, "It was all I could do to not cry myself to death. Pretty easy to trick my parents, too. They must have thought I had lost my mind. Marche, too."

"It was horrible, that feeling of such loss." Ritz said, "There was such a hole, you know? Terrible."

"I wonder if Marche felt the same way?" Mewt asked.

"He stayed home with me." Doned took a cookie, "He was pretty blue."

"I wonder how much he really lost." Ritz said, "He got what he wanted."

It was quiet for a few minutes and her words hung still in the air.

"Ritz killed Marche." Doned said, "In his dream."

Ritz gasped, "What?"

"That's what he said. He said you were in Judge's armor and you killed him."

Ritz looked down, knocking her heels together. She knew dreams of their Ivalice were important and she'd had her fair share, but…

"Have you ever dreamt of our Ivalice like that?" She asked the room.

Both boys shook their heads. Ritz took in a long breath and held it. She thought about the implications, about Marche and her friends. She let it out in a huff and stood.

"Where are you going?" Mewt asked.

"I have to talk to Marche. I have to ask him if he was hurt, coming back."

"Of course he was."

Doned wheeled himself in front of Ritz.

"Take me with you." He said, " Take me with you to find him. I need to see him as well."

Ritz smiled, "Of course! I wasn't going to leave you." She looked to Mewt, "Coming?"

"What do you plan on asking, exactly?"

"Well…" She frowned, "I'm going to ask him what his deal is."

Mewt stood up, "You'd better let me ask him why he gave me the third degree on hating him, too."

Ritz nodded and without another word, the three started to get ready.

# # #

The woods that edged the town were nothing now but skeletons, pointed bare fingers stuck up from the snow. The path through, usually clear and worn by decades of travel, was now vanished by the weather. Marche knew the way well enough and trudged through, pushing aside barren thorn bushes and felled branches. The spot was deep into the wood, well out of sight of anything civilization. Past the tiny river, now frozen smooth, and the large oak trees with hollows around their roots.

It took him nearly an hour to arrive. There was no landmark or anything special about it. They had chosen such a place as to avoid either anybody finding it or to help dissuade temptation to retrieve it. Using his hands, Marche rooted through six different spots, each a dud, until coming across the sweetest one, right at the base of a tall birch. It was buried deep, two feet at least and his hands were bitterly cold, even through gloves, as he pulled the book free. It's cover shook free of dirt, it's pages creaked with. He opened it to where the spine remembered. He stared for a while, rubbing his hands together.

"lta oron Sondus kameela." He said. He said it fast, like pulling a trigger. He focused on nothing but the book and the words. His eyes began to droop and he fell forward. He felt tears start to form and they were warm as he drifted to sleep.