::Yawn:: Yikes….about time for bed…But inspiration has struck, and struck hard! How can I go to bed when there is a one more chapter just dying to get out? Ugh, thus is the flood of new ideas one gets when writer's block is removed.

Well….Chapter four, can you believe it? After….::checks last update:: ….A YEAR?!! Cripes! I didn't realize….one whole year….Geez, sorry, everyone! My sorry updates really are getting less and less frequent.

Um….Merry Christmas! Enjoy!

IV

"Where are we?" Freya demanded, pushing back vines and springy branches on her course to follow the man in front of her.

Kuja hardly spared her a backwards glance, but this was mostly because he was having a hard enough time keeping his long silver tresses from becoming entangled in the foliage. In a sort of voice that could only be classified as supremely annoyed, he said, "It doesn't have a true name, but some have called it the Refuge of the Damned."

"Well, that's extremely comforting, I must say," said Freya. She shut her mouth just before the backlash of one of Kuja's wayward branches would have found her munching leaves. "Could you please watch where you're going?"

"I'm terribly sorry," said Kuja in a tone that suggested the opposite. After a few hours of harsh traveling, Freya was beginning to find that far from the polite youth she had met at Stowaway, a Kuja under frustration became an insufferable brat. She muttered as much under her breath, and was rewarded by another haughty reply. "If it bothers you so much," he said, stopping to allow her to catch up, "why don't you take the lead?"

Pausing to regain her breath, Freya said, "I will then, seeing as how your direction is getting us nowhere. Do you even know where we're going?"

"That's why they call it the Refuge of the Damned." He said, grinning at her. It was that sort of action that made Freya realize just how much Kuja was like his brother, though the thought was hardly reassuring. Apparently the duo spent far too much time together, for Kuja swept out an arm, gesturing her forward with mock formality. "After you, milady."

Freya did indeed brush by him, heaving a long-suffering sigh. She led for a while, taking secret enjoyment whenever a branch from her backlash smashed an unsuspecting Kuja in the face. However, the novelty of this soon wore off after countless stops in order to help the Genome free his nearly waist length hair from her vicious revenge.

After one of the more harrowing tangles, Freya called for a halt. Mentally picturing a nice, sharp sword and a satisfyingly bald Kuja, she took a seat on a fallen log and wiped the sweat out of her eyes. The day was dawning bright, clear, and unusually hot for the season, making travel a miserable experience. Not only that, but they were both completely lost, and Freya still had a mission to fulfill. Her parcel was still carefully packed away within her robes, but unless she delivered it soon, her quest would be in vain. On her travels from Burmecia, her home on the other side of the mountains, Freya hadn't passed through this way, through this "Refuge of the Damned," so she had no idea how to get back from here.

And she doubted that Kuja had much better bearing than she did. Which was to say, none at all.

She spared a glance at the aforementioned Genome. Kuja was no longer grinning; he stood now with one hand braced against his hip, staring upward at the leafy canopy with a look most would call detached interest. But his light blue eyes roamed overhead, scanning back and forth very slowly, as if he expected to find the answer to all of their misfortunes somewhere in the trees. Freya knew, or at least, she could accurately guess, that he was thinking about Zidane and Eiko and the trouble the two were invariably in.

In a moment of her own reverie, she recalled their conversation upon escaping Stowaway.

Freya paced tirelessly, heedless to the noisy crunching of the leaves underfoot while she did so. Her head was bowed in thought, her mouth drawn into a frustrated frown, and her tail whipped rapidly behind her, a mirror to the turmoil erupting inside her. Very much aware of the cool gaze that followed her movements, Freya paced for a few more moments before she could stand his calculating stare no longer. Stopping finally, she turned and faced Kuja, though her tail continued to snap whip-like behind her. "How can you be so calm about this?" She seethed, unable to listen to the heavy silence for a moment more.

Kuja lifted one pale brow by way of reply, his face carefully expressionless. "What makes you think I am calm?"

"Because most people would be slightly upset to know that their loved ones have been imprisoned by the Lindblum authorities!" Freya hissed in return, but when she got no more than the smallest blink from the man, she forced herself to calm down. After all, yelling at Kuja was getting them nowhere, and he certainly wasn't allowing her to vent her frustrations on him. After a few deep breaths, Freya asked, much more levelly, "So what do you want to do?"

Kuja cocked his head slightly, a glimmer of receding moonlight glinting off his silver locks at the movement. "What do I want to do? I want to rescue my brother and my sister, but unless I want to commit suicide in the process, I won't be going back into Lindblum anytime soon. Is that what you were asking?"

Eyes shadowed by a dark crimson hat narrowed dangerously. "So what do we do? Just leave them to Cid?"

Again, the nonplused look. "We will do what we must." When this answer obviously did not satisfy the Burmecian, he swiftly changed the subject. "Didn't you have an errand to run, Ms. Freya?"

Yes, she certainly did have an errand to run, as the silver haired man had so simply put it. It was not so much an errand now as it was a mission. She had to deliver her package soon, or else her entire journey would end fruitlessly. It was at least week's travel to her home and from Lindblum; she would barely make it in time, even if she left now. But how could she leave, knowing that Kuja would be alone in his attempt to rescue his siblings? They had saved her life, and it was her duty as a knight to repay the debt.

Who was she to save first? Or rather, who could she save, as she could not help both parties at once. There just wasn't time....

It was because of this dilemma that both Freya and Kuja continued to wander around the "Refuge of the Damned," without aim, as neither one was entirely sure what goal they should pursue next. Freya felt the tug of both her duties pulling her in opposite directions, both physically and mentally, and reasoned that her struggle would soon tear her apart. Logically speaking there was no point in going back to Lindblum to stage a rescue attempt--that would only land them behind bars (or worse) along side Zidane and Eiko. She knew that. She was fairly certain that Kuja knew that.

The question was, who was going to give up first?

Kuja sighed in a some what disgusted manner, breaking into her thoughts. The Genome tore his gaze away from the sky and sat cross-legged on the mossy ground across from Freya's log. He said nothing, but she could tell he was struggling to rein in his emotions. Which, she mused, was a good thing, as she was swiftly tiring of dealing with Kuja in "brat mode." After a heavy silence in which Freya watched him expectantly, he finally spoke.

"So, Ms. Freya, what exactly is the nature of this errand you have to run?"

Freya considered not telling him. Her mission was slightly personal, and if not personal, then definitely confidential. But she supposed she had better not try her luck. She had seen Kuja's immature side; she didn't relish the encounter with his aggravated side.

"I'm on a mission for my people," she began, carefully watching Kuja's face for a reaction. He regarded her with a neutral look. Either he was not shocked to hear of a new development of unity among the scattered Burmecians, or he was practiced at hiding his feelings...when he felt like it, of course. Freya went on. "One of vital importance."

"Aren't they all?" Kuja interjected, a wry grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Ignoring him, Freya dug into her robes and produced the small parcel she had been safeguarding since arriving at Lindblum. It was oblong and cumbersome, but then again, it had also been hastily wrapped in brown parchment that concealed its natural shape. Freya unwrapped the package with extreme caution, revealing a small flask containing some sort of dark purple liquid.

At Kuja's questioning look, she explained, "This is Annabonir. Also known as Annir or Annira."

"I've never heard of it," Kuja said, peering at the liquid curiously.

"I'm not surprised," Freya said, re-wrapping the flask and tucking it safely into her pocket again. "It's fairly rare. Only found in certain places. Like Lindblum, for instance. Or Treno, if you're lucky."

"But what does it do?" Kuja asked, obviously growing impatient. "And what does it have to do with your so-called vital mission?"

Miffed at his choice of words, Freya did not stop the haughty air from creeping into her voice. "Well, when brewed properly, the roots of Annabonir can be used to make a powerful memory restorative."

Kuja cocked an eyebrow. "Your vital mission is to deliver a cure for memory loss? I fail to see the importance in that."

Freya sent him a heated glare. "Well, when you put it like that, I suppose you would find it quite silly. But if you only knew who it was for..."

"Who is it for? Your grandfather?"

"You are becoming as insufferable as Zidane! More so, even!" Freya finally exclaimed. "At least he was mildly charming!"

That sobered Kuja considerably. In all seriousness, he said, "I apologize. I'm just....frustrated. And worried. There's no telling what sort of danger Zidane and Eiko are in right now...But please, continue. Who is this memory draught for?"

Freya managed to control her rising ire, but only out of respect for the captured Tribal siblings. "It's for Sir Irontail Fratley the Younger. The leader of the Burmecian Resistance Movement."

"What are you resisting?" Kuja asked, sitting up straighter.

Freya blinked at him, looking as if she couldn't quite understand the question. "Well...I would have thought that was obvious. We are attempting to put a stop to the human oppression on Gaia and restore balance to her peoples."

At last the Genome seemed interested in what she had to say. He listened intently to her well memorized speech, instantly forming another question. "And have your endeavors thus far been successful?"

Though she couldn't quite fathom why he was suddenly enamored by the conversation, Freya was nonetheless pleased with his display of intrigue. "We have a growing number of followers, both non-human and human parties," she continued, " and our ideas have spread to cities as large as Treno. In fact, due to our influence the kingdom of Alexandria passed an official pardon to all semi-humans."

Kuja was impressed by this. "Alexandria? Really? That's one of the four major sovereignties. Have you had any success in any of the others?"

Freya shook her head. "Unfortunately, no. Treno has a small faction of our followers, but not enough to sway public opinion. All the officials in Lindblum are all fiercely loyal to Cid and his pigheaded notion of non-human inferiority. Cleyra..." Freya trailed off, her features darkening. "Cleyra has refused all communications with us. Traitors...every last one of them."

Kuja nodded his understanding. The Cleyrans were originally Burmecians, Freya's people. Some time ago, before Humanity dominated, the two races split due to political and ethical reasons. The Burmecians held their city; the Cleyrans formed their own, high above the rest of society in a gigantic tree. When the feeling of non-human animosity spread, Cleyra was overtaken by humans. The original people were allowed to stay in their isolated city. The invaders, who took the name Cleyran as their own, were fair to their conquered people in public dealings, allotting them freedom within the city of Cleyra. If Cleyra's original citizens were to ever leave their home...then they would be subject to Gaian law and would be persecuted. Safe within the boundaries of their tree like city, it made sense that Cleyrans would not want to partake in any movement that would jeopardize their fragile tranquility. While this was perfectly acceptable to the rest of the continent, it earned the Cleyrans titles such as traitors and cowards from people like Freya and the majority of the non-human population. Kuja could understand their thinking, if not condone it. Why risk everything for others when current surroundings benefit you greatly?

Freya shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts. "Sorry....anyway, our leader, Sir Fratley, went on a dangerous mission to Cleyra to improve relationships between our peoples. When he finally returned to us, he was badly wounded and delirious. We have limited medical facilities....no strong White mages such as your sister, unfortunately. We managed to save his life, but the high fever from infection had damaged his memory. He has no clue who he is. No clue what his purpose is. No clue who I....no clue who we are."

Kuja did not miss her slip up. "Do you care for him?"

Freya stiffened. For a moment, she did not speak, debating on whether or not she should tell the truth. Her shoulders sagged; it made little difference for Kuja to know, she finally decided. "Yes," she said, "and that is why I must return with the Annabonir soon, or he will never remember me, or his people, or the resistance. Our people have no leader. Our King has long since died, our Prince is missing....Fratley is the only one who can unite us into a strong enough force to take on the humans. His skills for politics and diplomacy are unmatched. Without him, the movement will crumble, and we will be slaves forever."

Silence fell like a blanket around the two: heavy, oppressive, and thick. The quiet, background noise of the forest became a great crest of noise; Kuja was suddenly aware of every cricket chirp, of every bird's call, and of every snapping twig. Freya had nothing more to say; she was caught up in memories brought on by her passionate speech. Faced with this great revelation, it was all Kuja could do to mutter, "I see."

Abruptly Freya stood and began pacing again. "But I can't leave you here, knowing that Zidane and Eiko are in trouble. You'll go after them, one way or the other, I know you will. And I feel that I must help you, but..."

"You have a vital mission to finish," Kuja finished for her, standing as well. At her nod, he crossed his arms and frowned thoughtfully. "It would seem that we have quite the dilemma then. How long does it take to get to Burmecia?"

Freya calculated. "Two weeks, there and back. That is assuming there is good traveling weather and I am not hindered by human interference."

"I see," Kuja said again, rubbing his chin in a distinctly Zidane-ish manner. After a moment's more thought, he took a deep breath, and nodded briskly. "Very well. I will go with you."

"What?" Whatever Freya had been expecting as a solution, it wasn't this. "But what about Zidane and Eiko? Will you just aba---leave them behind?" She cut herself off sharply, deciding that 'abandon' was far too harsh a word.

Still, despite her sugar coated term, Kuja winced. Wearily, he said, "Effectively yes, though I am loathe to do so. But there is no alternative. Tell me, do you think I could rescue them on my own?"

Freya shook her head slowly.

"Then I must go with you." Kuja concluded, running a rough hand through his tangled hair.

"But I still don't understand why," Freya said, confusion knotting her brow. "What will going with me accomplish?"

"You said your Fratley had a gift with diplomacy. Perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone."

Freya then caught on. "Further our cause in Lindblum as well as attempt a discreet rescue attempt?"

Kuja smiled. "Hopefully backed by some of your elusive followers. I think a team of Dragon Knights would be handy when trying to break into the Castle, don't you?"

They could do this, Freya realized suddenly. It was risky, and highly dangerous, but they could pull it off, with the right amount of planning. Once Fratley had his memory back, he would be more than prepared to jump right back into the game, and she knew that if anyone could formulate workable rescue attempt, it was him. She found that she was actually excited to get going. Still, there was still the time barrier. It would take weeks to get from Burmecia to Lindblum and back again, not to mention the time spent on Fratley's recovery, and the time spent on developing a plan, and any other obstacles that were sure to arise.

Feeling slightly deflated, she hesitantly pointed out, "But what about your siblings? Can they....survive...in Cid's clutches until help arrives? Eiko is so young..."

Kuja grinned, but it was a tight lipped, forced movement. "Zidane is stubborn and strong. He'll protect Eiko until we can get them out of there."

Freya was hardly comforted by this. "Yes....but who will protect Zidane?"

As the two set off again in what they hoped was the right direction, Kuja couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

Gomen, it's pretty short. I am writing on chapter five as we speak though . Shouldn't me another YEAR until I get that one out…Mou….I'm so sorry. Forgive my spelling mistakes and such...no beta-reader ::sob::

So….I couldn't remember how to spell Fratley's name….so sorry if its misspelled. And the memory restorative? Annasomething? I made it up. It's corny, I know. If only you knew how I came up with it ::rolls eyes and points to self:: Big Cornball, right here. Anyway, please review!! Next up, we'll get back to the captured Tribal sibs, and see how good ol' Garny is doing as well. It's about to get interesting, I swear!! ;;