By quarter to noon, the Lindblum conference hall was packed with participants and spectators alike. For many folks this was the one time in the year that they could enter chambers of the royal castle outside of normal business hours. They gaped at the frescos depicting great battles on the high ceilings, the ornate crystalline chandeliers hanging over head, the columns carved of stone with famous royal hunting treasures displayed on velvet cushions in between. Not a few of the younger participants nervously eyed the Lindblum guards standing in pairs through out the hall, their copper metal masks and stoic figures surveying the crowd for any suspicious activity.
From her place among the participants at the center of the room, Freya scanned the crowd. Feathered hats, bonnets, flower crowns, helmets. Humans, the plains bangaa, the seeq, and halflings of various species. Even the sea faring people from the islands off the mist coast had showed up, their jaunty pirate caps clustered to the side as people gave them a wide berth.
Freya quietly confirmed to herself what she knew all along.
No Fratley.
A familiar disappointment settled in her gut as she half heartedly examined the slowly assembling line of participants, seeing not a sign of a Burmecian tail in the pack. In fact, outside of the occasional visitor at the gates, there were few Burmecians at all in Lindblum. Hardly anywhere but the gates and towns near the homeland in fact, though not particularly surprising. Her country, from what she'd heard through bar gossip, had become progressively isolationist, be it through policy or practicality against the increasingly dangerous mists.
Freya noticed the significant eye she was getting herself, and settled back into her place in line with a disgruntled sigh. She fidgeted with the white patch with the number 10 in bold embroidery she'd been handed upon entering the hall, smoothing it against the lapel of her coat. The ceremony wasn't to start for a few more minutes and so outside of watching like a hawk as more participants trickled in, Freya was resigned to wait.
Freya's eyes half lidded as she tried to suppress a yawn. Reis forgive her, but this was the most boring part of the whole thing. Perhaps she shouldn't have arrived half an hour early, for all the difference it made.
"Did you hear? The Alexandrian princess is here," someone down the line was whispering furtively to another. Her ears perked at that, though she resisted the urge to rubber neck like the human to her right began to do.
"I hear she's smoking hot."
The first person scoffed. "Not just 'hot'. She is the most babe-ilicious royal beauty in all the Mist continent." The person lowered his voice as he added, "Hard to believe that she's the daughter of thatqueen."
"Shut it, creepers," someone else piped up. "The Alexandrian family have good relationships with Lindblum. They say the Regent is even the princess's god-father."
"Lucky bastard," some creeper muttered loudly, only to be shushed by the whole line as a short mage in familiar blue robes wandered past, adjusting his straw hat as he stared in awe around him. As Vivi approached, he spotted her and his yellow globe eyes crinkled in recognition. He waved timidly, then pointed at the number 8 on his jacket, cocking his head questioningly.
Freya leaned out of the line, then pointed to the empty spot beside the human next to her. Vivi nodded and quickly moved to his place.
Freya glanced at the large clock hanging on the far side of the conference room, then leaned behind the line to whisper, "Cut it close, don't you think? Did Zidane sign up after all?"
Viv nodded and brought a hand to his mouth to whisper back. "Zidane is number 24." He pondered his words. "Zidane was talking to friends for a while."
She glanced down the line and said man was—she rolled her eyes—talking to a female bounty hunter and clearly not in his assigned space. Her lack of clothes left little to the imagination, and Freya could very well guess the conversation they were having. Likely the same type of conversations that caused him and Vivi to almost be late.
She straightened as the bell towers outside began to ring loudly, signaling the top of the hour. A hush fell over the crowd as the guards near the entrance hall all moved like clockwork toy soldiers, stepping away from the walls and parting the crowd. An announcer in purple velvet appeared at the back of the hall. A quick wave of fingers glittering with magic and his sonorous spell amplified his voice. He cleared his throat, the sound echoing to the high ceiling, and as one the crowd turned to look at him.
The man nervously adjusted his bow tie. "Presenting her royal highness princess Garnet til Alexandros XVII."
The doors opened and a young woman stepped into the hall. Immediately the muttering around her was silenced.
"Gods above," the lanky youth beside Freya whispered.
The Princess was certainly a beauty, though the word was somewhat lacking to the reality. She wore a simple dress, pale blue silk without the frills and lace of the latest Lindblum fashions, and yet it fell off her figure effortlessly with just a hint of tasteful curves at the bodice and hip. Her long hair was gathered into simple twists around her face, highlighting the fullness and length of her dark tresses that trailed to her waist. Freya would not be surprised if a new fashion trend had been born in this very moment.
For a girl of sixteen, Garnet's features were surprisingly mature. Full lips dabbed just so with rouge, pale skin dusted with rosy pink color in the cheeks, and half lidded dark eyes with long lashes that stared straight ahead. It was the expression in them that left the biggest impression — neither boredom nor vapidity, but a piercing awareness, even pensiveness.
Last night, Zidane had not said much about his princess, although from what she gathered they had been traveling for many weeks fleeing the Alexandrian lands. It was hard to believe that the young woman before her was in part responsible for the explosion to South Gate that had been seen across Lindblum a short week ago. Not at all the type of princess one would expect to be associating with thieves.
Freya snuck a glance down the line at Zidane and found him standing alert, his eyes locked on the princess. A slight frown tugged at his lips. Freya wondered at it, eyes returning to the young woman.
As the Princess passed the line and ascended the dais to take a seat next to a tall man in silver armor standing attention, the announcer at the back cleared his throat once more. "Presenting Minister Artania Izunia."
Heads turned once more as the familiar figure of Lindblum's minister appeared at the end of the hall. His long grey hair was pulled back in a stately tail and his beard plaited with a burnished gold bow to match his robes, a nod to the festivities. He ascended the dais in quick order, taking his place behind the podium. A quick gesture by the announcer who had quietly scurried after him and the air near his throat began to vibrate, carrying his voice loudly through the hall.
"Ladies and gentleman, I thank you for your attendance on this auspicious day. Participants, I bid you welcome to these hallowed halls. Many a Master Hunter has stood among you in years past and I look forward to seeing a Master, new or old, once again crowned in the fountain square this evening."
He looked around at the crowd. "I regret to say that Regent Cid is currently indisposed and unable to join the festivities. However he wished me to assure you that he looks forward to seeing you all at the crowning. Now..."
He snapped his fingers and a scribe on each end began going down the line, scribbling notes with a feather quill. As the minster talked to the crowd of the long history of the hunt, a young scribe approached Freya.
"Please state your name and what award you are interested in." He sounded bored out of his mind.
"Freya Crescent." Then Freya's nose wrinkled, thinking of Bobo. "The ring, if you please."
He scribbled something down. "You are assigned to group B in the industrial district. Please assemble at the train station in..." he scanned his notes, "...half past the hour. You may remain in the hall here until the designated time. The conductor will take you to your position."
She nodded and he moved on. Shortly after the scribes had worked through the thirty some participants, Artania turned to address the group.
"On behalf of Regent Cid and all of Lindblum, may your blade be true and your hunt be fruitful." Then he turned and with little pre-amble, exited out of a side door.
The crowd began to disperse quickly after that, moving to find their places among the castle parapets and away from the dangers of the streets. Most spectators would line the bridge walkways between castle and the airship docks, cheering on participants from up high.
Freya didn't move, leaning on her spear and observing the movement around her. Vivi stepped closer to her as the man between them departed. "This is exciting," he told her, golden eyes glowing warmly under the chandiliers. "I've never done something like this before."
She nodded, feeling charmed that the mage felt comfortable to stand and talk with her while they waited. He seemed like a sweet boy—which made her reservations regarding his participation all the more prominent. She said none of this though. "It is quite a show, isn't it?" She turned to him with a smile. "Have you been to Lindblum before this?"
He shook his head. "This is my first time."
A murmur nearby caught Freya's attention and she looked up to see a wide birth given to a man in silver armor heading straight towards them. To Freya's surprise, the young princess trailed after him.
"Master Vivi," the man boomed as he stopped before the young mage. "The princess and I will be rooting for you." He was tall with a square, freshly shaven face and eyes and brows riddled with traces of frequent stress lines. He wore head-to-toe silver plated armor that while intimidating when polished, must be hell to keep clean and maintained on the road. It was all a bit on the nose for her tastes, and yet the well kept broad sword strapped to his belt spoke of mastery not to be underestimated.
Vivi stammered. "T-thanks Steiner, Dagger." Then he blanched, looking around. "I mean, Princess."
Freya's eyebrows raised at the curious nickname even as the princess stepped forward and crouched down in her dress. The smile she bestowed upon the kid would have destroyed lesser men. "You can call me whatever you like, Vivi. We're friends." She held out a fist and Vivi bumped his with hers—perhaps the most adorable thing that Freya had ever seen in her life. Holy Hashmal, Zidane had the most interesting companions.
"Just remember," Steiner put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Offense is the best defense. You are the best magic caster I have ever seen. You can't let that monkey Zidane win."
Vivi raised his fist to Steiner. "I'll try my best." Then surprisingly Vivi looked at her, almost apologetic. "Sorry, Freya."
Freya grinned. "We're all here to win, Vivi. From one warrior to another, I wish you good hunting."
The armored man looked up at her. "Ah, pardon our interruption." He straightened, eyes lingered on the crest on her coat, before he held out a hand. "I am Adelbert Steiner of Alexandria. I've known few Burmecian warriors, but all I have met had straight blades and fierce hearts. Apologies for lack of decorum, I am not familiar with your family."
She shook his hand in return, mouth wry. "Freya Crescent. And it is quite all right, it is not particularly well known." She was the first and the last, in fact, and likely all she would be remembered for was infamy.
She turned to the Princess who lingered a step away, and then bowed. "Your Majesty."
Princess Garnet nodded politely. "Are you a friend of Vivi's?"
"We have only recently met but he has made good company."
"She's Zidane's friend," Vivi piped up helpfully. Or not so helpfully, as Steiner's eyes immediately narrowed, sizing her up again, and even the Princess's eyebrow's raised in surprise. Freya internally sighed. Good old Zidane, a pox on her reputation even to his own comrades.
"Zidane?" Garnet said at last, curiosity leaking into her voice much to Steiner's clear disgruntlement. "Are you part of Tantalus?"
Before Freya had time to defend or deny, as if summoned by the very mention of himself, Zidane suddenly approached, hands behind his head. "What's that about Tantalus?"
Steiner immediately stiffened. Vivi bounced over to him. "I'm in the Business district. Group A."
Zidane put a hand on his head. "I'm over in Theater." He winked. "But good for you, all the good monsters will be where you are. Save a few for me, won't you?"
Steiner snorted. "He should do no such thing. Vivi will be the winner of this event, mark my words."
The thief straightened to face the knight. The two surveyed each other with flat expressions.
"Rusty."
"Thief."
Zidane flashed a smile. "Prickly as ever, I see." Then his eyes slid over to the young woman, who's brow had ticked down. He looked her over for a long moment, eyes flicking over her dress. Then Zidane bowed, low and obscenely formal. "Princess."
Garnet gazed at his theatrics, cool-eyed. "Hi Zidane."
Freya's eyebrows rose into her hair. Well this was certainly unexpected. Zidane not launching into immediate flirtation? A young woman already on guard against his charms? She hadn't exactly expected Garnet to be smitten, but this was far less chemistry then she had imagined, given his reaction the other night. "Vivi was just introducing us to your friend."
Zidane turned to Freya at last, then grinned. "We've been running into each other a lot recently, huh?" He turned to the other two. "Freya's not part of Tantalus. And don't let my association taint your impression, Rusty. She's a seasoned warrior that has travelled the world all over, plus she can run circles with that spear. She's usually dragging me out of trouble, not getting me into it." He tossed her a wink. "She only barely tolerates me."
Freya sighed loudly. "Tolerate is such a strong word."
Zidane put a hand to his heart. "You wound me."
Garnet, Freya realized belatedly, was now openly staring at her, the look in her eyes unreadable. When their eyes met, however, the princess shook herself out of it. "I'm sure you have many stories," she said, clearing her throat. "I would love to hear them some time. I've so rarely left Alexandria, and then only to visit Lindblum via airship." She smiled, and it was a trace shy. "I confess I'm envious."
Before Freya could respond, Zidane snorted. "Traveling it not all its cracked up to be, especially through the mists. What we saw in the Forgotten Forest was only a taste. Better to stick with airships."
Garnet's smile disappeared, even as Steiner put a hand to his head. "Quite," he said faintly. "Preferably ones that we are not driving, your highness,"
It was not that Freya disagreed with them. It was that she could clearly see, where the other two did not, that the comments stung the Princess fiercely, valiantly though she tried to hide it. Freya thought of the prince of her own kingdom, who even when she'd left had watched her go with jealous eyes, locked behind bars of glass and gold.
"It is true it is dangerous," she said slowly, catching the princess's attention, "and yet I have found over the years that if one wishes to know how different the world can be outside, reading about it is only the beginning. Burmecians view braving the mists as something of a rite of passage. Can we say we own the land without first walking it's valleys and peaks?"
The sudden interest in Garnet's eyes to a subject she was clearly warmed to finally belied her young age—only to be dashed by Zidane's careless, "Burmecian warriors brave the mists, not their kings."
Freya stared at him wordlessly. Zidane shrugged. "No offense Freya, but there is a big difference between a trained Burmecian Dragon Knight and the rest of the populace. The world is dangerous enough trying to live in it, never mind explore it."
"I think," Garnet said stiffly, the first sign of emotion beyond politeness in her eyes since she'd walked into the throne room, "that I am capable of understanding that nuance on my own."
Zidane frowned, then sighed. "All right, fair enough."
An awkward silence descended on the group. Steiner was looking at Freya with new interest at the mention of her knighthood but with a quick glance at his princess's sudden distant expression, he cleared his throat. "Well, shall we leave them to their preparations, your highness?"
Garnet nodded curtly. She turned to the three of them. "Good luck, Vivi, Lady Freya." Her cool eyes landed on Zidane. "...Zidane."
Zidane rubbed the back of his head. "Damn. You're mad," he said. Then to the group's collective surprise, he stepped forward and took her hand, ignore Steiner's extreme displeasure. "I'm only worried, honest. I know you can take care of yourself." Then he winked. "With a bit of training, Dagger would make a fine airship pilot."
Steiner chopped at their held hands, forcing Zidane to let go of Garnet. His expression was stone. "Please keep your unsolicited advice to yourself, thief."
As Zidane turned to address Steiner, Garnet took a step back, looking away. And—Freya hummed. There it was, the pretty blush she had expected to find all along, although accompanied along with it an expression both stymied and frustrated. A familiar feeling, Freya thought with sympathy.
Despite their bickering, the camaraderie between the four was so clear it could cut glass. Kind as they had been to include her, Freya felt the distinct discomfort of an outsider looking in. With a quiet good luck to Vivi, who was watching all the back and forth with innocent interest, she excused herself and turned to walk away.
She'd gotten halfway across the hall before she was stopped by a call, "Hey Freya!"
Freya hunched over as several people around her looked around. She turned to see Zidane staring after her, hands on hips and a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Don't forget our bet!" he called, causing Freya to grit her teeth at all the additional looks she was receiving.
From behind him, the Princess too was looking between the two of them. Though her expression was carefully blank, the wary scrutiny of those dark eyes left Freya little in doubt. Her ears flattened. Damn Zidane for creating complexity were there were none.
She would have flipped him off if not for the inspection of a thousand commoners, nobles and an attentive Alexandrian princess. Freya's pointed glare only made the thief grin wider. Disgusted, she turned and left.
Something was off.
Perhaps it was the nervous looks of the guards as they quickly hustled the five candidates that formed her group onto the empty street car before it had fully stopped. The trolley started up again with a groan of metal and soon they were hurtling down the track at a speed that seemed above normal regulation.
Freya stared at the back of the nervous guard with his hand on the lever and who was avoiding everyone's gaze. Then she faced the trolley doors and drew her spear from her back in a fluid motion. A few of the more seasoned warriors in the group picked up on it too, each readying their axes and blades. The remaining followed suit shortly after, confusion and apprehension in their faces.
The street car rattled into the Industrial district's empty loading zone just as the bell began to toll, the signal that the hunt had started. Freya glanced at the giant clock tower on the building, then frowned.
"It's not one o'clock," she addressed one of the guards. "Are we starting early?"
The man glanced at her, then shrugged.
The red mage beside her chuckled. The crystals on her rapier began to glow. "Looks like this year is going to be an interesting one, boys."
Freya's ominous feeling grew as her group filed out quickly into the station. It was not in fact completely empty. Shock registered when she saw a few townsfolk darting through the back doors, clearly not dressed for battle.
"What are you doing?" She whirled on the guards, who took a step back at her sharp tone. "Go after them! There will be beasts on the streets!"
With a quick nod, they departed after the people, armor clanking. Freya swiftly turned back around to see that a few of her group had moved towards the entrance of the station and thrown open the doors, though many had stalled there, staring out onto the street. With a grimace, Freya jogged forward, pushing through the bodies towards the archway.
The sight that greeted her outside made her steps falter, a slow breath hissing from her teeth.
The beasts had been loosed. Packs of Fangs and Mu galloped through the street, teeth gnashing at the heels of warrior and monster alike. Skirmishes were breaking out all over, street stalls smashed, carts overturned. To her horror, a few beasts were pawing at the barred doors of homes, gouging deep scratches in the wood as they howled, saliva dripping onto thrashed wreaths and doormats.
The worst of it, though, was the sky filled with carrion. Hundreds and hundreds of black feathered beasts created a patch work out of the blue sky above. Even Freya, having seen her fair share of monsters hordes, felt momentarily taken aback.
One of the younger swordsman beside her whispered, "Odin take me, am I going to die?"
"Now this is more like it!" one of the axeman nearest the front cackled suddenly, brandishing his axe at the birds. The closest pack, some fifteen birds in total, veered as one at the sound, a sea of glowing demon eyes among feather black wings. The man whooped in delight. "A-hunting we will go!"
In answer, the flock swooped forward and all hell broke loose.