Entry Three
--I'm writing in this thing again even though I seem to stop abruptly
all the time. Well, you know what, I'm just going to write what I happen
to write and I'm not going to lie about anything, or cross it out, or take
it back. If I don't want it to be said, well, I just won't say it to begin
with. I guess that will work.
Maybe Zidane knew what he was talking about when he
gave this to me because the more I bother with it the more I seem to like
it. And maybe I want my memories to go on too. Maybe that's all the immortality
you can ask for, not like I want to live forever in reality. As long as this
paper lasts who I was will last too.
Ugh, that's too much philosophy. Screw it. So
what do I say now? 'Today I did nothing in particular, just like every other
day'. Yeah, right.
It's really raining hard out there tonight. I haven't
seen rain like this in Alexandria for a very long time. I'm supposed to leave
tomorrow, dunno where I'm going to, but if the roads are all washed out I'll
have to stay here some more
Well Lani just left to go back to her inn. She
was sitting around in the castle sitting place with me for a while but it's
getting kind of late, and I can't sleep anyhow, reason for me writing this
now. So she left. Now that I think about it, she really has changed a lot.
I've heard almost dying can do that to you and I guess it's true. But I
understood her a lot more back when she was all full of shit and fire and
all that. Nowadays she seems to have been taking lessons from Dagger or
something. I'm not even going to try to figure why. Just proves to me that
I was right to haven't have not ever care
about that bef ***
---
I suppose I should explain why that page up there is
smeared and there's ink all over it? Right. Guess I can write again now that
Freya's sleeping. Oh, I have to explain why she's here too, eh? And sleeping,
nonetheless. Well, I will, since it explains why I just made a mess of this
page.
So I was just sitting here writing away like a good
little scholar (sure) and suddenly the door closes, makes my hand jump, okay,
not a big deal. And then I hear this kind of scream, and when I turn to look
there's Freya standing in the room all dripping wet and looking like hell,
didn't expect me to be in here. So I had to slam the book closed so she wouldn't
see, and there's your explanation of that.
The thing is, Freya did go back to Burmecia, but when
she got there something bad happened between her and that guy, Fratley whoever.
She wouldn't really say what happened exactly but I figure they had some
argument or something and she wouldn't stay in Burmecia anymore and came
back here to see Dagger. Dagger's not up though so she came in here 'cause
the fire's still going.
If you ask me, she loves her memory of Fratley better
than the guy he's turned into after getting amnesia, but no one asked me.
And no, I wasn't callous enough to tell her that, though I wanted to. At
first I wanted her to just leave me alone I mean, when she got over
her surprise of seeing me she first looked like she wanted to leave again
anyway, but I guess I'm her friend and she would probably have spilled it
all to old Brahne at that point, she felt that bad.
She said she was cold and asked to sit down, and I told
her to get a blanket then, but she said something kind of odd, something
like her soul was cold and only someone else could warm it up. I still didn't
want to let her I mean, I haven't what is she coming
to me for anyway? The day I become someone's counselor is the day Quina goes
on a diet. But she had this hollow hurt look in her eyes
and so I let her sit next to me and just listened while she went on about
this guy and how much she loves him but that he doesn't really seem to love
her back. Like he's just with her because he was before and he has some kind
of obligation to love her again even though he doesn't remember her. I told
her to just forget him but she didn't say anything to that. Ah, hell. Dagger
can help her better in the morning.
Eventually when she got warmer she started dozing off,
on my shoulder of all places. So now she's making my arm fall asleep. I'm
too nice for my own good nowadays, really. I just noticed how soft her hair
is now that it's dry. I tried to start writing again before but she asked
what I was writing and I couldn't show her of course. Much too personal to
show her even though a complete stranger is probably reading it now. That's
just how it is.
This is too weird. I mean, I remember how I met her,
with that tough look in her eyes and how we nearly started fighting a moment
later, and if you'd told me then I'd be sitting here with her sleeping on
my damn shoulder I'd have laughed at your ass and then smacked you one. But
she's here anyway and I guess it didn't hurt me to help her out. Damn you,
Zidane, for making me think this way. Now I want to get to bed too but what,
do I just leave her here? Bring her to her room and have the guards on the
way whisper and cackle like fuckin' hens?
I never thought about this before.