Chapter Four
The Ultimate Loss
I had forgotten, quite obviously, how large Cleyra really was. From Burmecia, even when the great city was decimated, the tree had appeared small. Up close, it was beautifully massive. The sandstorm that I had almost gotten lost in many years ago seemed, strangely enough, not as fierce and powerful as it had been so long ago. I felt stronger against it, able to stand up to it and approach a tree that had been so hard to get to so long ago.
Supposedly isolated for hundreds of years, this was Cleyra, a very place I had visited, but could not even remember visiting. Only a mere memory let me know that at one time, I had known of Cleyra, though I did not know I had actually gone there.
I wanted to go up the tree immediately, through the trunk and to the top as quickly as I could, so I could warn the inhabitants of danger. Yet there was one rather large problem that I had.
"Jeez, Fratley! Can't even wait for your old pal?!"
Yes, Puck was always a problem. I sighed heavily, turning my gaze lightly upon my ever-annoying traveling companion.
"Old pals? We've only traveled for a year," I retorted calmly.
"Hmph." Puck managed that while he panted ever so dramatically on his knees.
I was extremely tempted to just carry him, but I knew that that was exactly what Puck wanted.
"Well, if you aren't going to hurry up, I'm just going to leave--" I began, stepping forward.
That did it; the very notion of being stuck in front of a tree, helpless, when a huge army was coming (come to think of it, why wasn't it there?), sent Puck onto his feet and dashing into the truck, soon far ahead of me.
I stood still, shaking my head, and unable to continue as I pondered Puck's ever silly behavior. Finally, however, reality pressed into my mind, and I began a smooth run up the truck, fighting through the thick sand to reach the top. Behind me, I thought I felt vibrations... Yes, the army had to be close behind. There was no time.
Never did there seem to be time in my life. I felt like I was always in some hurry, probably because I always was.
I continued to run up the trunk, avoiding most problems. I saw nothing of Puck, and his footsteps were long washed out. The kid could be a fast runner when he wanted to! Either that, or I was so winded from running across a field that I was the one being slow, not Puck being quick.
The second thought was definitely the answer, for halfway up the trunk I was very simply too tired to go on. I had run for two full days to get ahead of the advancing army (and passed them safely) to get to Cleyra, and running for half of the third day simply took the rest of my energy. Finally, I had to take a break, and soon had fallen into a light sleep. Deeper sleep was not allowed to come, for no matter what, I would not let myself be caught by surprise.
I woke up only six hours later, from a huge roar that made me think that an attack had started. I leapt my feet, spear out, only to see that there was no attack. Rather, it was something far worse. Right before my eyes, I got to watch as Cleyra's greatest protection suddenly vanished without a trace.
The sandstorm vanished in a massive roar, and my eyes widened with horror. Without even thinking about my fatigue (six hours of sleep after running for days wasn't exactly fulfilling), I headed off again, as fast as I possibly could. Apparently it was fast enough, for I soon came upon the main town of Cleyra.
Everyone was in a good enough panic. Confusion, panic, and plenty of cries of "we are being punished" with other ridiculous babble were in the air. Carefully I stepped up the small staircase leading up to the main part of town, looking around for anyone familiar -- a rather silly thing to look for since no one was familiar. I quickly heading to the right, going up the staircase and milling my way through a panicked crowd, ignoring questions, comments, and stunned stares.
"Fratley! There you are, slowpoke!"
For once, Puck's insulting voice was actually welcome to my ears. I immediately located the ever-loud, ever-rude child shoving his way through the crowd to look up at me.
"I would tell you what's goin' on, but you obviously know. So, you finally got here in time to help us in our time of--" Puck began.
"Can you be quiet?" I asked suddenly, seeing that the crowd was filing out, apparently to watch something.
"Why? Oh, the crowd?" Puck jumped in the air, trying to see over the many Burmecian and Cleyran heads. "I can't see anything!"
"Neither can I," I replied with a snort. "Can't hear anything either."
"Who could? Everyone's being louder than the sandstorm!" Puck declared. He continued to try to see through the crowd, but then finally gave up a few seconds later. "Hell, forget it. Probably just Zidane making a scene."
"Zidane?" I asked, feeling stupid suddenly. "Who's Zidane?"
For once, Puck did not seem to find my question stupid. "Oh, just some crazy monkey-tailed fellow. Freya seems to tolerate him like he's some type of old friend."
"Oh." I didn't bother asking who "Freya" was, knowing I'd come up with a heavy sigh.
"So..." Puck began waving his arms around, looking around. "Now what?"
"Certainly the army has come by now. Unfortunate that the sandstorm has died," I replied. "So we should just--"
I never finished my sentence, for an eerie, high-pitched sound had filled the air. Out of the sky came a series of rather transparent bubbles. They floated to the ground, then formed a creature that I not only recognized, but also had learned to hate with a deep passion, the hate one has for an enemy.
Everywhere where a bubble had been stood a black mage, wearing their traditional outfits and having glowing yellow eyes visible on their black faces. Their gloved hands lifted in synchronized motion. Various spells, mostly deadly fire, came upon their hands, then shot from them into the crowd of stunned, helpless Burmecians and Cleyrans. It all appeared to happen in slow motion, and I felt like I was dodging an incoming fireball in slow motion, slowly rolling away from the fireball as it slowly whizzed by me; then it seemed to speed up suddenly and slam into the branches behind me, lighting them up in a deadly, beautiful spectacle.
Then time seemed to return to normal, and my senses were aware of everything. Puck had shouted something, then ran off. I rose to my feet, spinning my spear around the way a professional warrior did. Not truly aware of what I was doing, and relying more upon memorized movements that I had consciously forgotten, I dashed forward and slammed my spear straight into the stomach of the mage who had been preparing another spell.
He fell as if nothing more than a doll, the once bright yellow eyes on his face now dim and dead.
I looked up, looking across a peaceful village that was now becoming a bloody battlefield. Some Burmecians had taken up weapons and were fighting with what might they had, with ferocity that they had gained from remembering what had happened to their precious home. The helpless Cleyrans were fleeing, most of them only to be caught and killed by the mages who were appearing from all directions. Blood had already spilled on the ground, the bodies of Cleyrans and Burmecians strewn here and there. Very few Black Mages had fallen, their surprise attack ever too successful, ever too brilliant.
A battle cry fell silent upon my lips as I leapt forward, sending my spear straight through the head of a Black Mage. With that leap, I began to fight fiercely, half-aware of my moves, half-aware of my success.
Black Mages fell at every attack I made. Spells whizzed by me, hitting others but seeming to miss me often. The sleeves of my jacket were scorched from spells, my hat getting frayed edges from the flames as well. More mages continued to come, quicker than any of us could fight. My fatigue was gone, replaced with adrenaline, but there was no way I could keep it up. No one else could either. As I disposed of another mage, I quickly saw that everyone was tiring.
It was then that I heard voices, sounding like someone was going to the Cathedral. Immediately I leapt away from the hopeless battle, soaring over the buildings and slashing at a few bubbles, to no avail. I leapt onto the roof of a building, then flew upward again, heading toward the highest building, the Cathedral. It didn't take long for my feet to feel the cool material of the Cathedral below my feet. Panting, I leaned heavily against my spear, watching with horror as the town of Cleyra was slowly torn apart by the fighting.
Hours seemed to pass, though it was merely five minutes, and I saw a large group of people approaching. At the lead was a person with shoulder-length blonde hair, blue eyes, and a blonde, furry tail. His outfit was relatively simple, merely a white sleeveless shirt covered by a clue vest, with blue pants, grey boots, grey gloves, and plenty of other accessories, some blue, some brown. In his hands were two daggers. I also noticed that a Burmecian, dressed in a pink Dragon Warrior's outfit, was with him, spear out and ready for use. A Qu was also with them, waddling among the refugees. Quietly I watched them, seeing them heading for the Cathedral.
Yet then three bubbles came from the air, each appearing on all exits out of the area. Black Mages soon appeared, lifting their hands in the air with a deadly cry of "KILL!"
"Dammit! I can't save 'em all!" the blonde said with exasperation, apparently torn.
"Minions of evil, you have gone too far!" I bellowed suddenly, with an attempt to stop the Black Mages' oncoming spells. It failed, but I kept on talking regardless, since I was on a roll. "My spear will purge this land of you! You shall fall like leaves in the wind under the force of my blade!"
With that I leapt from the building, landing beside one Black Mage and slamming my spear deep into its stomach. Before it had even fallen, I had leapt to another Black Mage, repeating my attack. As the first Mage fell, and the second Mage's spell failed, I was already on the last Mage and disposing of it. Quickly I leapt backward, gaining my feet, and looked over at the very stunned people.
"Now, run!" I demanded, seeing that the people were not getting the hint.
"Dunno who you are, but I owe you one!" the blonde said, before the female Burmecian, who apparently had something to say, could even get out a syllable.
I was already rushing into the Cathedral, the final sanctuary in the doomed town. I could hear the others following, a good thing. Quickly I managed to pull past the small crowd, soon settling uneasily near the balcony of the Cathedral. Many stares were given to me, but I merely stared back curiously. Soon, the group of people I had saved had entered, and the female Burmecian immediately began to speak, catching my interest.
"Sir Fratley, I... I have missed you so much... I began my search for you immediately after you left Burmecia. Where have you been all these years...? To what corners of the world have you traveled?" the woman said, immediately proceeding to confuse me. "My dear Fratley... I climbed the highest mountains only to hear rumors of your victories... I searched the deepest valleys only to find your footsteps. But I never found you. And in the end, I heard something... Something unbearable!"
"Freya, you say?" I asked, regardless that the woman was obviously not done. I paused for a moment, trying to recall the name, but only faintly recalled Puck bringing it up. "I believe this is the first time we have met..."
Freya's look was easily one of pure horror. It looked like she was going to faint. I frowned lightly, concerned and confused.
"What... Did you just say?" Freya managed to get out, staring at me with horror in her green eyes.
I sighed, reverting my gaze to the ground. I tried again to remember, but nothing came up, and I soon realized that I would have to do something I truly hated to do. I would have to disappoint someone, and greatly at that. Carefully I met Freya's gaze, taking a deep breath.
"I'm sorry, but I cannot remember you for the life of me..." I said in a strangely calm voice.
Freya's response was anything but calm. Sadness was replaced by anger, and she stepped a foot forward, fist clenched as she made a good attempt to glare me down. I returned her gaze calmly, managing to keep together under her fiery gaze.
"Y-You jest! You cannot have forgotten me! It's me, Freya! Freya of Burmecia!" Freya shouted, her voice threatening to break, and I swore I could see tears forming in her eyes.
I shifted my spear with discomfort, lowering my gaze ever slightly as I managed to reply, "I am sorry..." And truly, I was.
"No..." It was all Freya managed, and her voice had broken, her tears threatening to fall.
I merely frowned, and was caught completely off-guard by a new shout, which nearly sent me leaping backward and straight off the balcony. It came from the blonde who was traveling with Freya, and he looked truly horrified, and angry, with me.
"Hey, wait a minute!" the blonde shouted. "You can't be serious! It's Freya, your lost love! How could you forget her?!"
I said nothing, slowly reverting my gaze to the ground, too hurt and confused to meet Zidane's gaze. I was truly hurt, hurt that I had hurt Freya. I wished I could remember, just a little, just something... To stop all this confusion, this pain, this disappointment that seemed to revolve around me, BE me!
"Well, say something!" Zidane's bellow came.
"That is enough, Zidane," Freya said, softly, in a defeated voice.
I looked up quietly to see Freya standing, dejected, defeated, and upset. Zidane was taken aback, shocked, and quickly replying, in a slightly quieter voice.
"What!? You've been searching for this guy for years, and now he's right here!"
An awkward silence followed Zidane's words. I silently mouthed the word "years". Years? This woman, who I didn't even recall, who I believed to not know, had been searching for me for years? What had I been doing with my life?
"Fratley!"
It was a good thing the Burmecian, who was dressed in very expensive clothing, had shouted my name. Otherwise I never would've heard him. I looked up to meet the other's gaze in a kind of dumb gaze.
"Do you remember me, the King of Burmecia?" the man asked.
"Not at all, I'm afraid," I replied. To me, the man was just some Burmecian with a good taste in very expensive clothing.
"Impossible!" the King declared. "Have you forgotten everything that has passed?!"
You mean it's not completely obvious? It was the first miserable thought I came up with.
"Then let me ask you this: What brought you back to Burmecia? Is it not because you learned of the crisis here in Cleyra, whose people are our brothers?" the King asked.
This got my attention perfectly. I looked him right in the air, recovering my posture a bit. I took a deep breath, before beginning with "As a matter of fact--"
"As a matter of fact, I'll tell ya!"
I managed not to groan under my breath. Puck had come to steal the scene. He soon came rushing top-speed into the Cathedral, screeching to a stop and leaping in the air in typical Puck-fashion.
"Puck!" everyone (or close to it) said in the room, me adding "Lord" to the title, Freya adding "Prince".
Puck glowered at me for a second, then looked back at everyone else. "I found Fratley during my travels around the world! And you guessed it, he didn't know who I was! Or even who he was! But when Burmecia was attacked and he heard that Cleyra was in danger... His faint memories as a Dragon Knight called him back here!"
Puck always did seem to be great at making assumptions. While that was partially my reason for going to Cleyra, I did have other reasons. I chose to let Puck believe what he wished, though, as I turned silently toward the balcony, closing my eyes.
"Dragon Knight..." I said quietly, mainly to myself. I sighed softly, shaking my head, opening my eyes slightly as I looked at the floor with a forlorn gaze. "Yes, I was once called that... But now, that is all I can remember..."
"Fratley..." It was Freya's voice, broken, trying to understand my situation and accept it at the same time.
I couldn't take it. There was too much to remember, too many shattered hopes and hearts, and a city that was ultimately doomed. I then made a cowardly decision, a decision a child would make when they couldn't stand something.
"I must go," I declared.
With that, I leapt over the balcony, leaving everyone behind. Yet even as I flew downward, I heard a few pieces of conversation before I was out of earshot.
"Freya... You... Follow him?" Zidane's voice.
"No... Happy... Still lives." Freya's voice, broken and happy at the same time.
I felt the firm ground under my feet. I made a mad dash upward, hoping to find a way out in the chaotic city. It seemed that activity had cooled down, I realized as I listened. Everything was quiet, too quiet.
"Fratley! Ungrateful idiot!"
I sighed heavily, stopping in my walk to wait for Puck. The child soon was in my view, glowering at me with such anger that I instinctively took a step back from the very enraged child.
"You can't even TRY to remember everyone?! You can't even stick around! Freya NEEDS you, dammit! And you just leave everyone there!" Puck screamed, causing me to back away. "Don't you see? Everyone's dying, Fratley! You're all Freya has left, all that is left of her past and you... You can't even remember!"
I didn't reply, didn't say anything. I simply lowered my gaze, defeated. Puck must've noticed, for I heard him let a deep breath out in a giant sigh.
"But I guess you can't help it, huh? Yeah, I guess it's your fault you had to head off and fight Beatrix... But you know, if you stayed, everyone would be happy, and we'd all be dead. Freya, you, and maybe me too... All dead," Puck said in a strange, "let's-look-at-both-sides" voice. It was rare for Puck, and I looked up with surprise at hearing Puck actually give something some good thinking.
"But whatever."
Ah, I knew it couldn't last.
"Let's get out of here, Fratley. This place is dead now. I don't want ta stick around, do ya? No, of course you don't! Come on!" Puck declared, apparently thinking he could read my mind.
"Where will we go?" I asked stupidly as Puck proceeded to drag me near the tree's edge.
"Ya think I know that?! All I know is that we're getting OUT of here!" Puck shouted. "Don't ya hear how quiet it is? The enemy's gone! Somethin' bad's gonna happen, and I don't want to stick around!"
"So you suggest jumping over the--" I began.
"Hey, quick way out," Puck said with a grin.
Puck then took advantage of my shock to pull me, and thus himself, straight over the edge of the town. We fell through a series of branches before beginning a very fast, frightening hurtle toward the ground.
"Puck... Do you know what you just did?" I groaned, watching as the ground started to get closer and closer. If I could remember it, my life would flash before my eyes.
"Yup! And I still know what I'm doing!" Puck declared.
He then took a piece of paper, neatly tied by a red ribbon, out of his pocket. He ripped off the ribbon, tossing it into the air, and unrolled the scroll. He did all this as casually as if he were at a pleasant tea party, not hurtling toward his death.
"Puck...?" I began, beginning to see the details of the ground. This was going to be very painful, and I was in such a panic and so confused as to not even think to try and solve the situation... Not that there was exactly a solution to begin with.
Puck was busy grabbing my wrist while bellowing, very quickly, a series of ancient chants. As soon as he said the last syllable, the paper began to glow, burning from magic. I stared at the burning paper, then looked back at the ground with horror. It was incredibly close, and I was so busy thinking about my untimely death that I didn't see the bright flash of light coming from the scroll, nor did I notice the sky churning with fire and revealing a portal for an eidolon to ride forward. Magic surrounded me, while a great eidolon came from the sky.
Five feet away from death, Puck and I turned into miniscule particles of matter and soared away toward Lindblum, while the powerful eidolon Odin -- I could see him, despite the lightning speed and my particle condition -- came from the sky, his weapon aimed at the doomed tree of Cleyra.
---- Hello! Wow, quick update, huh? -cough- Apologies, been busy, having sinus problems and had writer's block. But now my writer's block has lifted, and within a night I wrote this piece. I wrote it tonight, so there are probably plenty of things that could be fixed, but I wanted to give you all something to work with, so you knew I didn't abandon you. Yes, I know it doesn't go along with the Purblind Chronicles. Wasn't supposed to. Anyway, hope you enjoy, while I get my thoughts together for the next piece.
This story is copyright to me. Final Fantasy IX (and thus Gaia, along with its inhabitants and properties) is copyright to Square-Enix.