This story belongs to me and my creative mind. However, most of the characters, names, and places all belong to their respective companies, so don't yell at me for copyright infringements! Remember, Italics represent a person's thoughts or the telling of past events.

Enjoy...

:Faraway Dreams:

Chapter Fourteen:

"Morning." A quiet voice spoke into his ear.

Fedrich stirred, eyes opening slowly to see Ruthy at the side of his bed. He grinned, then leaned upright and rubbed his eyes clear of sleep. She stepped back and sat on her own bed, still in her off-white nightgown.

"Morning to you, too." He replied groggily. "Sleep well?"

"Yes. You still look exhausted, though."

"I didn't get much sleep." He admitted, glancing out the window to the perpetual nightfall.

"Bad dreams?" She prodded, concerned.

"...Yeah." He nodded, memory of the terrible vision floating in his mind's eye. "What time is it?"

"A little after seven."

Fedrich yawned, then stood up and stretched his arms and legs out. "Leena up?"

"I don't know."

"Well, we don't need to wait up for her to start." He figured. "She'll probably want some alone time to think."

Ruthy nodded absently. "Yeah."

"You ready to go soon?"

"Not unless you want me to parade around in my nighties." The redhead smirked.

Fedrich snorted in humor. "Funny as it would be, I'm sure you'd object."

"Thought so. We might as well have breakfast before going, I'm sure we'll be too busy looking for clues to stop much for afternoon meals."

The thought of food made Fedrich's stomach rumble. "No arguments there."

The Burman sat down at the table and pulled his heavy pack onto its surface. Rummaging through it, he pulled out his water skin as well as fruits for a simple meal. Ruthy was already halfway through an apple, cutting slices free with her small knife.

"So, do you have any idea where she might be?" The redhead asked.

"Not really..." Fedrich replied, using his nails to peel the skin off of his orange. "We can start in the weapons shops to find out where warriors hang around. It shouldn't be much tougher to find out where the unsavory types linger from there. Word about Setzer's death will be big news, whoever paid her to kill him will hopefully be common knowledge to the thugs and thieves."

"What about the guards? Can't we ask them?"

"We can, but I don't think they'll be very helpful."

"I'm...just concerned about our safety. You got mugged in the open last time we were here, I don't want to know what they do to people in their territory asking questions."

"Predators who defend their turf with lethal force..." Fedrich mused, thinking to his beastiary training. Munching on a slice of fruit, he looked over to his companion to see her brushing the snarls out of her unbraided hair. Her reddish locks looked radiant even in the weak, artificial light of the lamp, something he'd never taken notice of before. "...you think they'd attack us just for being around?"

"I wouldn't put it past them." She warned.

"Well, if it comes to that, we'll make them regret it." He boasted.

"Mm-hmm." She hummed.

The two remained quiet for a few minutes, busying themselves with morning routines. Once finished eating, Fedrich tossed the food scraps into a wastebasket near the window and picked up his sword. Setting it on the table, he unsheathed it and began wiping it down with an oiled rag, scrubbing at old stains and marks with a scrutinizing eye. Glancing up momentarily, he saw Ruthy sitting still, her eyes unfocused and staring at the floor while he fingers lazily twirled locks of hair around. He set his work down, the clink of metal on wood catching her attention.

"You still tired?" Fedrich asked cautiously.

"A little..." She murmured.

Something in her voice made him think otherwise. "...Something bothering you?"

"No...yes." She answered, chuckling at herself. "I guess I'm a little anxious about all this."

"We'll be fine."

"It's just...I'm normally used to danger, we immerse ourselves in it every day!" She crossed her arms around her body. "Now, though, it's just us. No Gerick to bark orders, no Macky and his jokes, no Illis to make fun of things or Gordan to back us up with his intellect, just you and me..."

"Scared?"

"That, too, I guess." She admitted.

"Well, no need to worry, I'll protect you from anyone who tries anything I don't like, on my honor!" Fedrich swore.

"Thanks." She smiled.

Except...who will protect you?...

Moonlight poured across the cobblestone paths in Treno, making it easy to navigate across bridges and through alleys. A vast number of nobles were out, followed by entourages of servants or friends, chatting away about mundane things. The two Regulators had to restrain themselves from gawking at the sheer volume of vanity the rich indulged themselves in. The stark contrast between the nobles and the majority of poor people was surprising to them, even after being in Treno weeks before. Curious still was that there was hardly any tension between the two classes, as if everyone had accepted their social ranks and held no animosity to one another.

Morning progressed into the noontime hour before they found a large weapons depot within the upper levels of Knight's Square. The door opened with a jingle of a bell, Fedrich stepping inside first with a quick look around the room. Racks of armor and weapons were against the wall or suspended from the ceiling by thick chains. Clawed feet rapped out a steady percussion on the grated floor as the two approached the front counter, an aging woman drumming her fingers together.

"G'afternoon, you be needin' something today?" She asked brightly.

"We're looking for some information." Fedrich nodded.

The woman eyed him for a second, eyes telling that she assumed he was a simple tourist. "If ya need directions 'ta somewhere, the guards can tell you."

"No, I just need to know where local fighters hang around." The Burman corrected.

"Eh? What're doin' that needs that kinda information?"

"I'm looking for someone..." He began slowly, watching her reaction before saying anything further. "...someone dangerous, who'd be paid to kill people."

The elderly lady gulped nervously. "I ain't into that business, boy, no way!"

Fedrich backtracked. "No, I don't mean I want to hire someone, heavens no! There's a particular someone who came here a few days ago that I need to find, and they're the type to do that kind of dirty work."

The woman tugged at her necktie. "Well, anyone like that would be in Cutthroat Circle, fer sure."

"And where's that?"

"Below." She pointed down. "Down 'ta stairs to the below streets."

"Thanks." Fedrich nodded, walking away from the counter.

"I wouldn't go there, if I were you!" She called out as he reached the door. "It's a horrible place fer anyone these days."

The Burman sighed. "It's going to be horrible business, what we've got."

Leaving the depot, he looked around the area for any staircases that led below. His feet were aware that they had climbed up several flights to get where they were, so it made sense there were additional neighborhoods on lower levels. The expression the woman wore just moments earlier, though, made his fur ripple in nervous fright. Someone who catered to warriors was afraid of them that greatly?

"I think there were some stairs leading down the way we came." Ruthy suggested.

"Alright, let's check them." Fedrich nodded, leading the way.

The two backtracked a long distance, passing by growing numbers of people out shopping on the scattered carts or dining in restaurants. Tourists, too, were flocking to well known places in the city, dressed in a middle class fashion that was all but absent to Treno's true population. Soon they found a diverging road that led down towards the center of the city where the lower class resided, the rich lording over them from the edges of the walls. The further down to the center they got, the less they noticed people walking around and more just milling about bars or in groups. Ruthy kept close to Fedrich as they continued, their arms almost bumping into one another in their natural gait.

"I'm worried." She whispered.

"Chin up, Ruthy." He cooed. "We're just walking through, they can't fault us for that."

"Let's hope so."

The sun/moon rose into the center of the sky, signifying the start of the afternoon as they came into the most treacherous part of the city so far. Whereas people were relaxing in the streets with shopping or work, those same people were sprawled against walls or on the ground in drunken stupors. Not a single Treno guard had been seen for a long while, and warriors were walking along with their weapons proudly displayed, many of them coated in dried blood. Fedrich stopped a moment, his ears twitching shortly before his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Fedrich, what's-"

"'Ey now, what do we 'ave here!" A thick voice asked from behind.

The two Regulators turned around, seeing two men and a familiar third approaching them. Fedrich maintained his expression, ears giving him advance knowledge of their approach. Ruthy stepped close to his side, eyes wide with surprise.

"You two look lost, methinks." The same voice assumed, grinning. "We can 'elp you get directions, 'cept it'll cost you somethin' to compensate fer our time."

"We're not lost." Fedrich stated, voice direct.

"Oh, I think you are." The other man started. "Not just anyone wanders in here, you know, and you both look terribly out of place."

"Come on, now, let's see some money." The first ordered, pulling a large dagger from his back.

Fedrich's hand snaked down to his belt, and with a quick motion he drew out his sword and assumed a defensive stance, placing himself in front of Ruthy. "Back off, I don't want a fight."

"Oh, but you've got one now!" The man growled, lunging.

Fedrich ducked down and avoided the attack, then used his legs to propel his body into the man's chest, knocking him off balance. He them stepped forwards and brought the hilt of his sword down on the man's forehead, sending him reeling into the cobblestone in a faint. The second man was drawing out a large section of metal pipe when an arrow sunk into his foot, the thief screaming out his frustrations. The two Regulators looked at the third man who was standing in surprise, and Fedrich immediately recognized him as the wounded man hobbled away.

"Hey, you're that thief from before!"

"Wha? I dunno what you're talking about!" The four armed man shouted, his arms reaching behind to pull a broadsword free from a scabbard handing behind his legs. "I'll cut you inta pieces, though, and see if it refreshes my memory!"

The four-armed thief charged, and Fedrich blocked the attack with his sword. He jumped back as the man's additional limbs pulled out daggers and stabbed at him, making the fight suddenly one sided. His arms moved around in a dangerous dance, weapons glinting in the weak moonlight. Chancing a wound, Fedrich jumped close and attacked with short and fast strikes of his blade. What attacks the thief couldn't defend with his broadsword his two daggers could deflect, all but negating everything the Burman tried.

The bandit laughed. "Heh ha! No one can get through my defense!"

"We'll see..." Fedrich sneered. "Ruthy!"

As if reading his intentions by words alone, the redhead complied and fired another arrow, the projectile striking the man's sword and sending him off balance. Fedrich leap in and slapped the sword away with his own, then forced the bandit to retreat several steps to regain his footing. With an anger that bubbled to the surface, he pressed on and reversed the odds completely, the lowly thief unable to do anything more than block his repeated attacks. Growling like a feral animal, he spun on his heel, knocked a dagger from the bandit's grip, then stabbed forwards, and pierced the smaller man's arm.

"Gya!!" The bandit cried, falling onto his rear with Fedrich's blade between his eyes. "Don't kill me! Please, I beg of ya!"

"Do you know anyone by the name of Claire the Demon Lance?" The Burman asked stiffly.

"No, I never heard of the guy!"

"How about who ordered Setzer Gestahl to be assassinated?"

"I don't know!" He repeated.

Fedrich pushed the blade closer. "I think you do."

"Alright, alright!! It was a guy called Joachim! He owns a place called the Sins Harvest, okay!?"

"One more thing, does this mean anything?" He continued, pulling out the black bandana with the bloody rose emblem.

The thief looked at it for a moment, his eyes twitching. "It's...it's the symbol for the assassin cult! How did you get that!?"

"None of your concern." Fedrich pulled his sword back slightly. "Now go."

"Right, right!" He cried, scrabbling for his lost weapons before taking off down a street.

Fedrich wiped the small amount of blood off his sword with a small rag, then sheathed the blade. He looked back to Ruthy, the redhead slinging her longbow across her body and capping her quiver. Many of the onlookers of the brief scrabble began to go back to their pervious tasks, eyes taking note of the exchange.

"You okay, Fedrich?" Ruthy asked.

"I'm fine."

"No, I mean..." He struggled for words. "Weren't you being a little too rough? It isn't like you."

"Maybe...but I needed to make sure he understood that I've got no time for him or his flunky cohorts." Fedrich snorted. "I have got to find Claire, and now that we've got a lead, there's no time to waste."

Ruthy nodded, although a bit worried.


Within the streets, people walked to the side of the center as a towering individual casually strode down the path. His presence on the road was enough to unnerve anyone who came close, many of them stopping to stare at him in fear and curiosity. The fact that a loud mouthed Burman was following his path also drew strange looks.

"Come on, you pansy! Fight me already!"

"I'm not in the mood."

"You had better as hell get in the mood or I'll rip your mangy hair out by the roots!"

"Sure, sure."

The Burman drew her lance out and swung wildly at the large man's head. However, he raised a single hand and caught the weapon just below the sharp blade and yanked it out of the woman's hand. The Burman growled and tried to get it back, but the man kept it just out of her reach.

"Bastard, give it back!" Claire screamed.

"Sorry, this'll sell for a week of good eating." Amarant corrected. "Second time you've lost one to me, isn't it?"

"I swear, I'm gonna peel your skin off your body bit by bit and sell it for coats and blankets! I'll boil your body and make glue out of it! Once I'm done with you, you'll-"

"Don't you ever shut up?" The mammoth man sighed. "I'm going deaf."

"You'll be going to hell and worse if you don't give me my lance!" She screamed, futilely grabbing for her weapon.

The two continued their back and forth arguing, walking through the streets as onlookers stared at them oddly. One man, though, charged down the middle of the street while looking behind him. The running man collided into Amarant's body, sending him into the ground while hardly unbalancing the fiery haired mercenary. The two met eyes for a moment, and the fallen man scrambled to his feet.

"Oh man, oh man!" He sputtered, waving his arms in surrender. "Sorry, sorry!"

He took off down the street again, voice carrying on in panic. For a moment the two bickering mercenaries looked at one another in confusion, then continued down the street in their usual rancor.

"Damn you, give me my lance back!" She continued.

The blue skinned mercenary growled. "Maybe if you didn't follow me around like a lost puppy you wouldn't end up with your weapons getting snatched. Don't you have anything better to do?"

Claire grinned. "Nope, annoying you is as fun as things get between jobs."

"Of all the luck..." He muttered.

"Come on, a lady's gotta find ways to make a name for herself. Sooner or later I'm gonna beat you at your game and be a real legend in this city!" She gloated.

"And why does this concern me?"

"'Cause you're the top dog here! If I beat you, I'll get everyone's respect!"

Amarant rubbed his head in frustration. "I don't know why I let you live..."

Minutes later, as they approached one of the few squares within the lower streets, Claire's incessant bickering died down as her eyes spied someone in the crossroads. Her pace slowed to a halt, and the Flaming Amarant continued on his way with her forgotten lance in hand. As if sensing her presence, the figure stopped his animated conversation with a redheaded woman and looked up, two pairs of green eyes meeting one another again. The moment went by in a crawl, sparks of recognition lighting up his eyes.

Claire felt her skin pale in surprise.

Fedrich...Castor...how in hell did he get here? Did he track me?

The figure, Fedrich, went still in shock. His redhead friend looked to her as well, revealing herself to be his friend in arms, Ruthy. The moment passed, and Fedrich's hand immediately went to the grip of his short sword.

"I found you, Claire!" He announced, drawing his blade free.

Claire shook her head, then put her hands on her hips and laughed, aiming to take control of the situation before he could try anything. "Well well! It looks like you found me, comrade."

"You've got a lot to answer for! Why did you betray me?" He asked.

Claire sighed. "I've told you time and time again, I betrayed no one! There was never a time that I was allied with you."

"What about your promise! Your vow as a Regulator!"

"That was just a promise to defend the people of Lindblum from any harm and to fight with nothing held back!" She argued, holding up a finger to forestall him. "And less you forget, I made that promise to Gerick, not you!"

Fedrich looked visibly angry, his fur on end and his muscles tensed. "I put my trust in you and you betrayed it! You can't deny that!"

"I don't deny that, I used 'ya and you fell for it like the idiot 'ya are!" Claire grinned maliciously. "When are you going to accept that and move on? Don't tell me you can all the way here to argue that again."

The Regulator growled, then pointed his sword at her. "Fine! If you're not going to explain yourself, then I'll just capture you and turn in a wanted murderer instead!"

Running across the cobblestone with adrenaline boosted anger, he tried to attack. Claire merely jumped back from his stroke, repeating the maneuver each time he blindly came at her. The mercenary snickered at his efforts, wishing she had her lance to really insult his skill. Dodging his thrust, she swiped at his muzzle with her claws and raked across fur and flesh, drawing some blood. He screamed in frustration, his attacks becoming less and less accurate.

"Bah, you're acting even worse than before!" She taunted.

"Goddess damn you..." He swore.

Claire snickered, then broke into laughter as a curious idea came to mind. "Tell you what, ol' friend! If you're so intent on fighting me now, let's do it where no one will interfere with it. Tomorrow at noon, alone, at the center of the Grand Maria! I'll make my stand there, and either you kill me, or I'll kill you. What do you say?"

The Regulator stood still a moment, then gulped a breath of air. "I accept."

Claire cackled madly, then leapt into the skies to a higher street, disappearing from view. "Be ready, comrade!" Her voice carried over the wind.



The Author Speaks!

Howzitgoin', everybody, time for your ten 'o clock news update.

First off, an answer for Robshi, Mysidia would be located just before the bridge that leads to the Secret Library Dagurerro, a city where all those people live and work at when not otherwise studying. Random fact: Anytime a Final Fantasy game had a city named Mysidia, it is always a place filled with white and black mages who study books or are knowledgeable in the lore of the crystals. In this case, it's the hometown that red mages usually hail from.

Next, I've finally unveiled the newest incarnation of the Information Database! Spread out over different pages, you don't have to play scrollfest to find things. Also I added the largest section yet, a small collection of self made texts on the history of the Mist Continent. Have fun checking it all out, peeps! Later!