Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 9 belongs to Squaresoft. However, any original characters mentioned in this story are mine, as is the plot.

Knightwatch

By Saffire Raynius

Chapter Four

Freya spent most of the afternoon consulting with the man in charge of census. As negative as it sounded she had to express her doubts as to the existence of any other undocumented survivors of the Cleyran Massacre. Not a positive man himself, Dai agreed.

"They would've turned up by now," he murmured wistfully. "It's sad. At least we've you and Sir Fratley, and now our long-lost Prince."

"The King said that once, and now he's dead."

"We'd be a mess without you Dragon Knights around. The soldiers can get rather lazy at times," Dai said with a smile in his voice.

Freya glanced up from the census papers. "What do you mean?"

Dai leaned closer, dropping his voice to an unnecessary whisper. "The truth is, Miss, some of the citizens are rather unmotivated, and…"

Freya blinked at Dai. He'd never spoken so candidly. She moved her chair back an inch or two. "And?"

"You're just the right kind of bitch to whip 'em back into shape!"

She frowned deeply, perhaps even turning a shade of pink. "Are you asking to have your ass kicked, Dai?" He gave a few long guffaws while the woman's redness extended to her ears. She shoved her hat back onto her head and threw open the door. "Why, I never!"

"Ya know it's true!" he called good-naturedly, and Freya replied by slamming the door hard enough to make the room shudder.

Dai had a point, though, and Freya secretly smiled at this as she strolled down the cobblestone road toward the palace plaza. Various citizens desired her help along the way, so it was at least an hour before she actually sauntered into the guard station.

A pair of feet set on the desk waved at her as she entered. "Afternoon, Lady! What do you need?"

"For the love of Gizmaluke, get your feet off the desk, Beni!" She regarded the soldier with her hands on her hips. "Have you seen Sir Fratley?"

Beni sat up straight. "Yes, ma'am! If you guys are going to be this attached, us soldiers seriously need to buy a pair of homing pigeons—"

Freya stalked forward and leaned over the desk, her face hazardly close to the apathetic guard's. "Do—not—test me today, Beni. This is important. I could easily toss you outside of the gates and let the monsters that chased Prince Puck devour your flesh, but because I'm a nice person with a tight schedule, I'll let your insubordination slide."

Beni visibly shrank. He pointed toward one of the doors in the cramped room.

"Tight something else, too," someone muttered from a corner of the office. She ignored it and pushed the door open.

Her eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light. "Fratley? Sir Fratley?" She glanced at the shut curtains. With a start, Freya realized that she was standing in the storage room.

"Sir Fratley?" she repeated. Her long ears twitched. The sound of rustling papers carried across the room. She dodged a few dusty boxes and broken weapons, eventually catching the hunched figure of her blonde warrior in a ray of light.

"Fratley?" she asked quietly, perturbed. He continued to dig through a box as if oblivious to her presence.

"Fratley." She touched his shoulder briefly, causing him to jerk violently as if slapped. "Fratley!"

He dropped something back into the box and glanced into the concerned face of his friend. "I apologize, my lady. I was looking for something and… I was carried away."

She knelt beside him. "Oh! This is the box that has your old things in it."

"Indeed."

"This stuff is at least seven years old."

"I know," he admitted. "But I was speaking with someone today, and they mentioned something that I used to carry."

Freya peered over the lip of the box. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I, but something compels me to find this item."

"Do you know what it is? A dagger? A necklace?"

Fratley hesitated. He dipped a paw into the box and lifted a shining, golden thing. "Ah, here it is!"

Freya inspected it. "I know what this is."

He looked to her with great interest. "You do?"

She nodded slowly and dropped it into his outstretched paw. "Yes. But you should try to figure that out yourself." She eased his discomfort with a smile, still uncomfortable with the idea of acting as Fratley's support.

He stared intently at the delicate engravings in the cover. Careful fingers switched the latch, slowly creaking it open. Tenderly, he wound the knob, and at once the pocket watch sprang to life. Awe filled his somber eyes.

"This… this was… this was my grandfather's," he whispered at last. His shoulders drooped as if a heavy load had been removed from them.

Freya felt proud of this small achievement. A feeling stirred deep within, causing her heart to lurch. "Fratley, I…" His tail twitched, but he did not move. Tentatively, her smooth pale paw reached out to take his. They only brushed a moment before he jolted upright.

"Something is amiss," he said abruptly. He turned and bolted out the door. Freya charged after him, worried.

"Lovers' quarrel?" someone remarked as she dashed into the deserted street. "Damn it!" she swore, kicking at a pebble. That was a less-than-glorious gesture picked up from Zidane.

There remained only one way Fratley could disappear that quickly. She sailed onto a nearby rooftop and took off, gracefully crossing expanses and dodging weak spots in roofs when possible.

The lightning-fast figure of Fratley swam in the distance. Sweat flowed freely in the rivulets between her eyebrows. He traveled toward the gates, leading Freya on an insane chase. At last, he halted atop a gatespire.

Gasping, Freya staggered into place beside him. She followed his gaze to the lands beyond Burmecia.

The view was incredible in any weather, but more shocking was the thick veil of smoke hanging over several leagues of nearby forest. It created a band of blue fire—an unnatural, magic-based fire if anything.

"This isn't a natural occurrence," Freya said somewhat dubiously.

"Indeed."

"What could it mean?"

Fratley's gaze remained hardset on the odd fireline. "For once, my lady, Freya, I've no answer."

"Could it be in connection with the monsters that injured Prince Puck?"

"Prince Puck was attacked by monsters, yes, but what made them different from any other beasts?"

Freya shook her head slowly. "That's what I came to ask you."

"An intriguing notion, for sure, and one in need of an urgent answer."

The knight shifted her balance toward Fratley subconsciously. "The fire will never reach Burmecia. Too much rain."

"Yes."

"But if this is a sign that the forest is awakening somehow, it could spread across the plains. Certainly that draws enough attention in itself," Freya suggested.

The smoke from the fire wove lazy half-cloud, half-mist formations in the air. From their viewpoint, the smoke cloud hung motionless. That did not mean it wasn't developing further.

"This fire bodes illness," Fratley said darkly. He leapt onto the road, startling a passing citizen.

"Where are you going?" Freya called.

"To warn the Priest!" he replied. In a gray flash, he dashed toward the chapel.

Freya descended. She straightened her jacket and pointed the sentry toward the fire. After his momentary shock, she reminded him that Sir Fratley was already on the case.

"What can we do?" the guard asked, paws held out hopelessly.

Her eyes narrowed. "Watch its progress. If anything unusual happens, inform the Priest and the rest of the knights."

The Dragon Knight studied the burning forest for a long moment. Then, bristling, she darted to the Palace.