KNIGHTS: Those Left Behind

Matt Taylor

Disclaimer: All of these characters belong to Squaresoft, I receive no payment for this.

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A lot of people didn't understand the rain.

The rain brought life to the ground, and trees and plants. There was nothing more refreshing to the body and soul than a splash of clear, clean water.

Normal people didn't understand this,

But the people of Burmecia did.

Freya Crescent stood atop the castle of Lindblum, her strong feet perched on the rather thin guard railing. Freya swept her gaze over the vast city, the rain slapped against the brim of her hat, but she barely felt them.

Freya sighed deeply, and stepped down from her perch. Her sensitive eyes could pick out each drop in the darkness of the night. She could see a small bit of moonlight peaking through the heavy clouds above her, and it caused several of the drops to shine like crystals, as they passed through.

It was a very familiar rainfall. Most people thought all rainfalls were essentially the same, but a Burmecian, who had spent their entire life in the rain could tell.

Freya found herself walking towards the large telescope, and leapt slightly, landing on the very end of the scope, only barely causing it to sway.

Freya both loved the feeling of the rain, and felt sadness at the memories it brought about.

As she had said, a Burmecian can tell the difference between one rainfall, and another, this one was just like one she had felt before.

********************

THE PAST.

"In Lindblum a maiden waited

Waited for her love to return

Hey-ho-do marry-do

Waited for the day to return to thee

Hey-ho-dee-oh!

Across the land her lover

With a sword in his hand

Hey-ho-do marry-oh

Waited for the day to return to thee

Hey-ho-dee-oh"

Freya smiled gently, as she lay her head on her lovers lap, listening to the gently harmony of the silver harp in his hands, mixed with the tap-tap- tap of the rain on the canopy over their heads.

She closed her eyes as Fratley's deft, and talented hands ran across the strings, listening until the ending chords of "the Maid of Lindblum" came.

"That was beautiful, Fratley."

Not as beautiful as you my love." He said, grinning. Freya rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's melodramatic/teasing tone.

"But enough music for now, I am sure the food is feeling ignored." Fratley said, motioning to the picnic basket. Freya moved over and opened the large box. Inside was a bucket of ice and a bottle of chilled Alexandrian wine and two glasses, along with a bowl of fruit, a small basket of cheese and bread as well. Freya took out the food, and placed it between them. Fratley played another few melodies on his silver harp, before setting it aside, and pouring a glass of the wine. Freya bit into a small hunk of cheese, and smiled at the taste.

"I love just sitting out here, listening to the tap of the rain." Freya said fondly. Fratley smiled at her before cutting himself some bread.

"I love sitting out here with you." He said.

"Fratley…" Freya said, exasperated.

"I merely speak the truth, my love." Fratley said with that same charming smile. Freya chuckled, and went about finishing her own meal.

********************

The food was all gone, and the wine bottle was empty. Freya lay down on the floor of the makeshift tent, her head laying in her boyfriends lap, as he continue to absentmindedly strum on his harp.

"The Hunter king sat on a throne

made of Birchwood and pine.

Tall and strong was he

A gaze like stone had he"

"Across his knees was a sword

silver and sharp,

bringing justice to all his lands."

"His son stood before the throne

his own blade sheathed at his side.

"You are both king and sire my lord"

He said, "So I come when you call with great haste,

Why my sire have you summoned me forth, from mine own

Home in the East?"

"The Hunter king spoke, his voice slow with authority and age

"Alas you are my son and my servant, but also

my heir, for the day soon comes when I will pass

from this land, and you shall sit my place."

Freya frowned as Fratley's voice trailed off.

"What's the matter?" She asked.

"I'm still working on it, that's only the first stanza."

"Is it new?" She had heard more than a few of Fratley's originals, some of whom where played as far away as Alexandria.

"Yes, I'm still stuck on a name. Either "The Crown of Cid" or "the Platinum Star." Fratley said, thoughtfully. "Hopefully I'll have time to work on it during my quest."

With that Freya felt her previous happiness dissipate, Fratley saw the look on her face, and lay down next to her.

"You know this is necessary, Freya." He whispered into her ear. She nodded once. "My own spear and arms aren't strong enough to protect Burmecia. There are many powerful warriors over the Mist continent, some greater than me."

"I know…but still…" Freya's voice trailed off, as Fratley turned her around and embraced her.

"I am the blood of Elaris, the Sacred Dragoon. I have a responsibility to protect Burmecia, as all of my family before me have." He said, his voice surprisingly sad.

"I know about the duties, placed on you." Freya said "You are not a normal soldier, and have duties that go beyond…me." Fratley noticed the pause.

"You are special as well, Freya." He said, running a hand through her hair. All Burmecian Women were born with blonde hair, which they kept tied behind them in a tail, the tail was the women's symbol of adulthood. But Freya, she had been born with hair of silver, so much like it that it shined when the light hit it. Maybe one in every five million Burmecian had been born with such hair.

It was a mark

A symbol

A symbol that she, of all the young children that were born in that year, was destined for great things.

"Freya, you know that if it was my choice, I would never leave your side." He said, looking into her eyes. "I want nothing more than that."

"I want that to." She said, tears clouding her voice. The two of them lay in each other's arms, oblivious to everything except the feel of the other's arms. Fratley finally pulled away, and stared into her eyes, and kissed her.

Outside, there was only the tap-tap-tap of the rain.

******************

Freya's gaze settled on the stars, as the rainclouds finally broke, revealing the dark night sky. She suddenly felt moisture on her face, probably from the rain. She reached up and found that most of it was gathered around her eyes. She wiped the tears away and flung them at the ground hard.

"Stupid childish tears." She said.

Her thoughts centered again on the song that Fratley had been writing that day, and wondered if she would ever hear it in it's entirety, if he had chosen a name for it. Fratley's love of his harp and music had surpassed his passion for his spear. He had been singing since he was old enough to read music and the ancient scrolls which contained old and famous songs of their people's past. He had gone on his first quest when he was eight, traveling to Lindblum and Alexandria and learning the music of those countries.

In that time, Fratley had become a troubadour of no uncertain fame and skill, singing for kings and queens and dukes. He had also returned a formidable warrior, his skill with his curved bladed spear almost as well known as his music. He had taken part in a tourney of singers during the tournament King Til held to celebrate the Princess tenth birthday, and had walked away with first prize, winning the spear throwing contest as well.

Freya had been in awe of him. She had always wondered what Fratley's own first impression of her had been, but she had never asked and he had never told her.

Freya yawned and noticed just how late it was.

"Fratley, I wonder where you are right now?" She asked, as she turned around and headed for the door. Below her, standing on a small windowsill, a tall figure listened to her go.

*******************

Beatrix Dubois lay upon her bed, staring mournfully at the ceiling. Everyone else in the castle was asleep by now, but she hadn't slept a bit, not since fleeing from the library, where Regetn Cid had been showing her a large book, containing the adventures of her own King Til in his youth. She had been reading it, when it started.

"Murderer." The voice echoed in her head, it had been doing it off and on ever since she left. She had tried to sleep, but every time she closed her eyes she would see them. Burmecian children, men and women, warriors, and knights, all of them charging at her and her forces, a large contingent of Black mages. The queen hadn't even bothered sending in the normal troops. All of them screamed in terror, and tried to get away. She saw herself swinging her sword and cutting through them all, without mercy or care. The soldiers and knights attempted to fight back, but the Black Mages merely burned them to pieces where they stood.

In less than an hour the city lay in ruins, the cities defenders lay dead in piles, those that had refused to flee. But along with them was a large contingent of woman and children. Burmecian women weren't like Alexandrians, they weren't trained to be warriors, they were trained to be homemakers, and wives. But she and the mages had killed them anyway.

"Spare no one, any rat that you see, kill immediately." She heard the queens orders again in her mind, and in her absentminded devotion, she had followed her orders to the letter. She hadn't bothered to look at the women ands children who had been killed, but now she could see all their faces clearly, yelling at her, and screaming to her "Why?"

"Murderer."

"Stop it!!" Beatrix shot up in her bed, her hands over her ears. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!!!"

But it didn't. Even now the voice continued, and she felt a tingle over her eyes. The tingle grew in intensity, until her had shot up under her eye patch, pressing into the scarred socket that once held her eye. She fell back to the bed, wincing in pain. The pain was familiar, but she hadn't felt it in years, not since the priests took her eye in exchange for her powers. The powers of Odin's holy knight, the Valkryie.

******************

THE PAST

Beatrix sat on the floor, inside a large circle, painted on the ground. Around her, candles wringed the walls, the only illumination in the room. She had been sitting here for hours, but something told her to be patient. The quiet was finally broken, as the door on the far wall opened, and a small group of men stepped inside the room. Nine total, eight of them wore green robes, that covered their entire bodies, and hid their faces. The head though was different.

He was an old man, ancient by some standards, but he stood straight with the strength of a much younger man. Around his head was a ring of cold iron, decorated only by what looked like a pair of elks antlers coming out of the brow. He wore a white robe, that seemed to glow in the darkness.

"You come before us, to claim the title of Valkryie?" He said, his voice a strange mixture of old and cracked, and young and sure.

"I do, oh great one."

"You seek to be granted the power of Odin's chosen warrior? You seek to be a defender of the innocent, and a bringer of justice?"

"I do, oh great one."

"Before any such gift can be granted to you, you must know the tale of our lord, and how he became attached to this planet." The high priest began to speak, and his voice took on a strange sound, and Beatrix could swear the room faded away, and she saw images float through the space that had taken it's place.

"In ancient times, long before the dawn of mankind, there where creatures on this planet called Eidolons. They ruled the planet of Gaia for untold years, before the Gods took a hand in this planet's development. The supreme looked down at Gaia, and deemed that this planet shall be one of those that would be granted the gift of true life, the gift of human life."

"One of the Supremes servants was a dark and evil creature, I dare not speak his true name, but for the time we shall call him by the name Necron. He looked upon the Supreme with envy, and greed for his power. Necron went to the planet called Gaia, and convinced the already haughty and arrogant Eidolons that the Gods sought to destroy them, and give their planet to the upstart human race. Ghidoran the Golden Lion, then king of all Eidolons was convinced that Necron spoke the truth, and he led his people to the heavens, where they fought the Gods in a horrible war."

Beatrix could see it all on her minds eyes, the images, like still paintings caught in time played through her eyes.

"For over five thousand years the battle waged, but in the end, the Eidolons did not stand a chance. By then, Ghidoran was killed and his essence was separated and spread through out the universe. The Supreme defeated his rogue servant, Necron, and separated him into many smaller parts, and sealed each away in different dimensions. To the Eidolons he looked down to in rage, and spoke.

"You have sought to destroy the gift of life! For this unspeakable crime I shall bind you to the planet, and give to the people spells, so that they may call upon you in times if need. Yes, may you serve those who you sought to destroy, for now, until the end of time!"

Beatrix was practically shaking, now.

"To keep order, the Supreme sent three of his servants to join them. Bahamut the Dragon King, Phoenix the fire of life, and Odin, the warrior born. In time, three Eidolons came to the Supreme and begged forgiveness for their actions. Many millennia had passed since then, and he forgave them. These three then became his servants, taking the place of the elemental triad lost in the war, they were Shiva, the Ice Queen, Ifrit the fire lord, and Ramuh the Thunderer."

"When humanity finally arose on the planet, the Supreme as glad, and his servant Odin One-eye came before him, and spoke.

"My lord, Life has bloomed upon this planet, yet the taint of Necron still stands." He spoke, and the Supreme agreed, for he too had sensed this. "Evil has also awakened on this world, and their must be a warrior to fight it. Someone who embodies the greatest features of nobility and honor, a warrior to defend the innocent from the darkness."

"The Supreme agreed, and ordered his servant to choose such a chosen warrior. Odin chose two humans, a male Paladin, and a female Valkyrie. These warriors lead armies of Holy knights across the face of Gaia for untold years, defending the precepts of truth and justice."

Beatrix felt her arms shaking, these looked like images, but they felt like weights on her back, drawing her down to the floor, but her arms remained strong. It was a few moments before she realized that the high priest had stopped talking, and that the floor looked the normal again. Beatrix was panting heavily, but she finally looked up.

The High priests eyes looked over her, like they where piercing through her soul.

"You have sworn a vow already, to defend the innocent and uphold the laws of justice. This lays at the heart of the Valkyrie, but other sacrifices are necessary for you to take this position."

"Other Sacrifices?"

"Yes." The High priests gaze grew hard as steel. "Odin One-eye sacrificed an eye in return for infinite wisdom. In exchange for the power, can you do no less?"

********************

Beatrix had rolled up into a fetal position on top of her bed, clutching the closed eye-lid in pain. She had vowed that she wouldn't scream when they cut the eye out, but she couldn't follow that vow. The pain had been intense, and it had taken all her strength not to scream every second she was there, She remembered them taking the eye to an inner chamber, and burning it on an altar standing in front of a statue of Odin.

As it burned, she had begun to feel strange, the pain began to vanish, and in it's place she felt strength, fire, and light ramming through her veins. She had fallen to her knees, the pain replaced by ecstasy. After what felt like forever, the rush stopped, and she actually felt lessened by it's absence. The high priests stepped forward, and spoke to her.

"You have survived the transference, this alone proves that you are worthy of the station of Valkyrie. Rise Holy Knight."

Beatrix did so, and she felt reborn just from that action alone. Another priest came forward, holding a silver plate, on it was a circle of silver. Beatrix took it off the plate, and saw it was a strange sort of eye-patch.

"Take this, and go into the world." With this, the High priests and his acolytes turned and left her. She had retrieved her armor and sword, and left the temple. When she turned around for one last look at the place. She found that it had disappeared into thin air. Beatrix had stood gaping at the spot for several minutes, before collecting her wits, and making the long trip back to Alexandria.

The pain had returned, it had returned with a vengeance.

Even now it took all of her strength to resist the urge to scream.

Beatrix rolled up tighter, and tried to find some semblance of sleep through the haze of pain.

TO BE CONTINUED

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I did it! I have finally conquered the wicked writer's block! I promised that I would finish this story, and I still promise that. I have to admit that I am enjoying writing it. I've always liked the "Knight" characters (and Beatrix/Steiner and Freya/Fratley are my favorite couples).

I especially liked writing the flashback scenes, as I wanted to add some characterization to these three characters, and also show a bit of the history and culture of Gaia in the process. I do hope you all enjoyed.

I'll try hard to not let the beast of Writer's Block away in the future.