January 22nd

The Treetop Town of Cleyra

...

— ...It has been some time, Your Majesty – a long time, indeed. Five years without seeing familiar faces... – Long time no see. Grew up a beard?

— Ah, Freya, well met – ...such as the King's. He turned his sight away from the sandstorm outside to the Dragoon kneeling before him – the High Priest and I welcome you.

— My Lady – the High Priest of Cleyra spoke, in a soft and quiet way.

— A pleasure to be at your presence – Freya said, standing up on her feet. She offers looks to her Majesty, though the respect of before is long gone. He has grew a beard, and scars. Very old scars – but I'm afraid this ain't no time for presentations, Lord Oberon.

— Indeed – the King noticed something different in Freya – these are dark times for the land who never saw the sun shine.

— I was at Burmecia – the Dragoon can't avoid looking back at the past while comparing it to present and see how much has changed. And how a few things never did – where you should had been until the end.

— Are you insinuating that I'm a coward? – the King saw his pride be shattered in front of his.

— Isn't that obvious? – 'to run away with a tail between legs' never sounded so clear and ironic for Freya – where were you when your people needed you the most, Majesty?

— I ask you the same, Freya Crescent. Where was you when Burmecia needed?

— I promised I'd be back – despite sounding shaken by the truth and pain, Freya keeps her seriousness before her Majesty – well, here I am. At least, I can fulfill my promises.

— And yet, you have failed – The King's presence heavies the burmecian's steps and breath.

— I tried, which's a thing you never did – to reply to the old ones... that would be worth a punishment, Freya thought to herself.

— We are not here for disagreements, Lady – the High Priest intervened – instead... it would appear that this predicament no longer concerns Burmecia alone.

— I understand, Your Holiness – Freya replied, as she realized her cool attitude was taken away in exchange of disgust and hatred feeded over the years – I have a reason to be here. Right now, Alexandria is planning to violate this sanctuary, and I won't let them to, not again. Yet... I fear my strength alone may not suffice.

— Freya...I know what troubles you – Oberon looked closely at one of his best knights, as he felt for her longing – I must apologize for earlier. Can you ever forgive me? No! off course you cannot. But the fate of the people of Burmecia and Cleyra now hangs by but a thread.

— It ain't your fault that the man I love is gone – how Freya hated to look so frail and weak before others – that was Sir Fratley's decision, while mine was of staying. Not to protect you! Because you can surely take care of yourself. You are not a baby in need of being paid attention all time. I heard your cries already, and know that I'll do my best to protect Cleyra. I swear, off my chest.

— You are not alone, Freya – said Oberon, to which he turned to his own solitude – me, however... have you saw Puck?

— Prince Puck? I haven't saw him in months – he left Burmecia months after I did, Freya thought – we crossed ways, but he went on a different path than mine.

— I see. How's my son doing? – the King asked, showing concern.

— He's fine – while Freya had none. But her mind was never at peace, always open for worries – it's my fault, isn't it?

— What do you mean?

— Puck left home because of me. Not me, but... He too wanted to find Sir Fratley – the Dragoon feels, once again, the pain of continous thinking and a wounded heart to follow – 'things would have been much easier with Sir Fratley in here', he said.

— Sir Fratley? I heard about his whereabouts – the King of Burmecia has long accepted that Fratley Irontail, a knight on same level as Freya, is-

— He's not dead, my Majesty – Freya doesn't agree with the 'fact' she has been told about a million times – and I'm willing to prove it.

— Five years, and you haven't proved anything – Oberon looked with disbelief towards Freya. The same he holded years ago – as I recall, you said you wouldn't come home empty-handed.

— As a Dragoon Knight, it's my duty to attend and solve any urgence – despite having grew a bad blood between her Majesty, Freya still holds true to her ideals – back then, we were not expecting a massacre of this... plentitude.

— None of us were – both burmecians were out of words for a moment.

— Perhaps... these are the sins of the father – the Priest of Cleyra, Erasmus, was fond of silence. However, he could not ignore the tension, even when watering the flowers – Burmecia has fought against Alexandria for so long. No matter the amount of innocent blood poured, the families ruined, both sides insisted for the conflict to never cease. Our ancestors. those who believed and dreamed with wars ending with pacific resolutions, they have found a refuge here, at Cleyra, within the everlasting sandstorm. They would not be pursued by their burmecian brothers in here, they would be safer from the world outside. Though, as the nations grew of power and hunger, I'm afraid, really afraid that the sandstorm won't resist such onslaught.

— Nobody wins forever – King Oberon said, distracted by the Priest's words.

— Have we ever won anything, my Lord? – Freya asked, holding of so many unanswered questions, and cynical answers for each – We have lost so many men for nothing...

— You will never forgive me. To this day, you won't accept my apologies – the monarch didn't liked to show any sign of weakness, but he couldn't disguise it to the lady in red – no matter how much I feel sorry, it won't be enough. I too lost my father for war.

— But he was MY father – Freya stared deep at Oberon's soul – Friedrich Crescent was at your command, at your mercy. He liked you, and as a favour for his loyalty, you send him to his doom, together of a hundred. If that's not what he wanted, to die for his kingdom...

— We don't live in the past, Crescent – it was the King's turn to dwelve into the depths within Freya's looks – instead, we learn from it. A good man once told me.

— I know. I loved this very good man – Sir Fratley... that name pursues the Dragoon and mixes with her feelings like no one else.

— And did he loved you back? – it's a question that haunts Freya as well, perhaps more than Fratley himself – I know how it feels to be loved by someone and not know how the other partner in the relationships feels about it.

— You don't know a thing about what happened between me and Sir Fratley, as well as being off your concern!

— I am worried about you, Crescent – the King of Burmecia saw many people come and go. He too knew love, how it made him say and do things he was not willing to – in your actual state of mind, it's impressive that you found a way to reach this far.

— I had to. I couldn't just let Alexandria win. I won't let them humiliate me and my people this time. As for you, my Majesty... consider your 'strategic evasion' with other eyes – like father, like son... except Puck was no coward, thought Freya. Neither I am.


January 24th

Alexandria's Castle

...

Her name is Freya Crescent, and she is a burmecian Dragoon Knight.

Her pride is that she will be the salvation of others. Pride comes before the fall...

The Dragoon remembers the day she left home to search for Sir Fratley's whereabouts, and on that journey, she learned more about herself than she did in a lifetime. Five years seemed like an eternity. Away from friends, family, a shelter... she knew lots of new places, befriended new people, yet that was not enough. Nothing was enough to fill in the void left after Sir Fratley left.

His training lessons, at least, served for a purpose. To climb the highest mountains only to hear rumours of his victories, to walk at deepest valleys only to find his footsteps, to run througt the fields only to be with his... Freya never found Fratley, this until Fratley found her, only to say something unbearable!

'Freya, you say?... I believe this is the first time we have met...'

'I'm sorry, but I cannot remember you for the life of me...'

A few words were enough for Freya to be devastated. Sir Fratley was really good at taking me down on training, the burmecian recalls, but I learned a lesson after every fight. What have I learned from Cleyra? That life is unfair and coincidences might happen?

After every defeat on training, and Sir Fratley always had something new to say to his students and closed ones... 'The sly eagle doesn't kill at whim'; 'If a wall is too high to jump over, then learn to jump higher'; ''The road remains wide open while your dreams are alive. Only fear can block the way'; 'Let fear propel you forward. Do not look back. Do not let failure stifle you'; 'Honesty is a virtue. That's if you can manage to stay alive...'

And so they did. For the first time in years, Freya found a time to express her deepest feelings to the man she loved, unaware of his reaction, unafraid of being let down. By the moment Sir Fratley said he didn't remembered anything, it was as if he denied everything. Everything... from childhood experiences, the first contact with books and any other strange object, the experience of growing up and perceive how things change, how one's voice either soften or thickens, but who is Freya Crescent to know? All she cares and knows about are the fond moments she had together of Sir Fratley's company.

Confidences shared to one another, secrets unraveiled to no one else, someone to poke fun at, someone to listen to her worries and fears, to cry on his shoulder and laugh at his face, those damned five years of pain and suffering! They meant nothing! NOTHING! Now, Freya would be happy simply knowing the man she loved lives...

But Sir Fratley is dead. So does Cleyra. And, to think all happened a while ago...

— You okay, Crescent? – Beatrix asked to Freya, who has not blinked for a long while.

— I am – with her claws, the burmecian feels a piece of kashmir tissue for the first time. Only a few of the greatest knights of Burmecia ever wore kashmir, and for a single Princess to have so many of them and not have used them at all... – It's just that... had Garnet been here, would she mind if we borrowed her dresses?

— Of course not! – Steiner said by immediate – I refuse to follow this silly plan any longer!

— The alexandrian troops surrounded this whole kingdom with a barricade, so I heard from an informant – Beatrix explained the situation – we dress ourselves as nobles fleeding to Treno who are being scouted by Pluto Knights.

— I can see some bit of logic in here, but I'm sorry, this plan is still silly, if not made in a very bad taste – all Steiner did was complain, not only because the dress didn't fit.

— It's only a temporary disguise, pretty! – said Blank, wearing a pink azalea dress.

— Oh, shut up! – Steiner felt his dignity slowly vanishing.

— We don't have much time to elaborate a better plan – how Freya wished they had time, and another plan at hand – what we have at reach is nothing but a matter of improvisation.

— Lady Freya... there is improvisation, and there is offense, which I don't agree with – Steiner didn't knew what was more offensive in his view of world, if agreeing to wear one of Princess Garnet's dresses, or just wearing a woman's dress, independent of her status – by all means, please take care of them.

— You speak as if we were not wearing Garnet's dresses, but Garnet herself – Blank said, as he choose whose hat to cover his face and scars – yeah, that's right! You almost sound like her dad!

— Do I? – Steiner asked, looking to a mirror and wondering when did it all went wrong with his life choices, and what's wrong with the world he lives at – even after I let go of Garnet, I'm still worried about her safety.

— Me too – Beatrix shared of same feelings as Steiner. The Princess was like a member of family for both – but don't worry about Garnet, she's safe.

— Yes. With Master Vivi, and... Zidane – the knight recalled the steadfast relationship he had with the happy-go-lucky thief – so many things happened on this journey. The Princess saw the world outside these walls, she fell in love with a doofus, I met a nice little guy who happens to be a skilled magician, I learned to think for myself instead of blindly following orders... those were simpler times.

— Those were not simple times at all. You all were trying too hard to be innocent and hide your pain from one another – said Freya, interrupting Steiner's heartful moment.

— Yes, not everything was good as it sounds. Vivi discovered he was a tool made for war, Garnet's mother already showed signs of being a dysfunctional wreck, and I... I had to go throught a lot to realize my Queen was not doing fine of the head. But yeah, Vivi and Zidane will take care of the Princess, as much as she will take care of herself. As for us... all that remains is to go to Lindblum before it's late.

— It's quiet outside, in a sinister way – Freya raised her ears — Wonder if Marcus and Cinna are alright?

— They are the best! Don't you worry! – Blank too was disturbed by the serenity, but he believed his comrades were fine.

— ...Love is found in the east and west, but when love is at home, it's the best! Love, love... the cure for every evil, the air that supports the eagle! – the burmecian sang to herself, while brushing her long milk white hair.

— Nice song – Blank liked it.

— It is a poem from a dear friend. He sang it to me on typical Thursday's afternoon after training.

— Hmm... Sir Fratley, I suppose? – Beatrix asked. It didn't take that long for her to fit inside a soft silk dress that shimmers.

— Yes – that name brings Freya back to the past. So does wrapping ribbons on her hair – it was one of his hidden qualities. He was a shy person, but as a Dragoon, he felt assured of his actions and saying. It was as if Fratley became a new and improved version of himself whenever he was on duty. I too felt that way.

— I wish I'd knew this Sir Fratley. He seems like a good guy – Steiner said, ignoring the humiliation he felt for himself.

— Sir Fratley was more a guru than a Dragoon – Freya opened the curtains and stared at the orange skies of Alexandria, where narrows and terns flew alongside white doves. Such a majestic view, to leave anyone out of breath – he helped me throught some bad times. His advices were usually very good. You'd probably enjoy talking to Fratley for hours.

— Was he at Cleyra? – Beatrix felt guilty for a brief moment.

— Yes, but we barely talked to each other. If we had the chance to... – Freya went back to her previous meditative self, althought she could not stop laughing at herself.

— Why are you laughing? – there was no joke to laugh at for Beatrix.

— Funny, isn't it? – no joke, except Freya's – you spend five years of your life searching for the man you once thought you loved so deeply and then he returns one day, with no past memories at all.

— You loved him?

— No more. He's dead. His philosophies and ideals died together of Cleyra – Freya can still see a burning tree at the horizon. There'll be no sleep tonight – with Lindblum safe, though, I can fulfill Sir Fratley's dream. This time, I won't fail.

— Alright, I think we're done with our little disguises – Blank said, striking a pose and feeling weird. It's temporary, he told to himself – so you know, I was quiet all along because my female impression really sucks and all

— Thanks, but I don't want to hear that ever again – Beatrix isn't a lady used to wearing dresses, but she finds it rather cushy and elegant.

— And I don't want to do this ever again – Steiner flushed.

— Ladies and gentlemen, I present you... Lady Steinerina! – Blank yelled, so the entire world could hear it.

— I prefer Steinerella – Freya giggled. Beatrix as well, briefly.

— This is so ridiculous... – Adelberta Steiner felt ashamed of himself – let's move on, shall we?

— Right. Let's move on – Freya could not resist bringing up a smirk everytime she saw Steiner, and how uncanny he looked with makeup. Oh, that's not makeup, he's still flushed, thought the burmecian.