Fratley opened his eyes. He was covered in sand and bruises, but he was still alive. The storm had passed, but he knew full well that it could come back in short order, so they didn't have time to lose.
"Freya? My love, can you hear me?"
He had been shielding her with his body, so he propped himself up to check on her. "Ack..!" he grunted, realizing that his right leg was broken. Freya lied still beneath him, her facial fur caked with blood and dirt.
"Oh, no..." he muttered as he lifted her hair to reveal a large gash on her forehead. He immediately put an ear close to her snout and heaved a sigh of relief when he heard her faint but steady respiration. He then started praying, focusing all the power he had left into his fist.
"Mother Reis, hear my plea in this time of need..." he whispered, a greenish glow radiating from his hand.
When he felt the spell was ready, he released it, wreathing them both in a healing magical aura. He then collapsed to the ground, drained by the conjuration.
The scorching sun of the desert shined, merciless, above them. After catching his breath, the knight checked Freya's wound. The cut had stopped bleeding and looked much better, but the ensuing infection would be deadly if she didn't get it treated soon. He tried to stand up, but the spell had only partially healed his leg. He fell sideways, screaming in pain.
"Why?! Why is this happening?!" he raged, pounding the sand with his fist, "Help! Can anyone hear me?! HEEELP!"
But nobody answered.
Never before had Sir Fratley felt this powerless. Not even witnessing the obliteration of Cleyra could compare to seeing the love of his life lying motionless next to him, like a broken doll buried in the sand.
He suddenly had an idea.
The dragoon quickly looked around. "Aha!" he thought when he spotted a nearby downed branch. He crawled towards it as fast as he could and grabbed it with his right hand. "Father Berlioz, give me strength!" he prayed. His left hand started glowing purple and he struck the branch twice with its edge, cleanly slicing it into two serviceable sticks. He quickly splinted his damaged limb and crawled back to where his wife was.
"We will get out of this, my love... I promise!" the dragoon whispered in her ear. He then tried screaming for help, but once again only the wind answered. "We will have to take our chances then...".
Sir Fratley closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He used his desire to save Freya as an anchor point to gather every last drop of his remaining spiritual force. A mystical surge enveloped him in blinding purple light, filling him with raw power. "Father Berlioz, give me strength!" the knight roared as he rose to his feet, using his momentum to also lift Freya up. He screamed in agony, the invigorating spell having done nothing to anesthetize his mangled leg, but he knew he had to jump before it wore off and he fell unconscious. He took off, the enormity of his leap reflecting his many decades of experience as a dragoon. His target was a nearby route that merchants frequently used to enter Burmecia from the south.
"I see someone! We are saved!" the knight enthusiastically exclaimed when he spotted a lone traveler on a chocobo near his intended landing site. The couple started plummeting due to Fratley struggling to concentrate because of the pain, but seconds before impact he managed to use his magic to break their fall, allowing them to land safely on the earthen road.
"Please... help us..." Fratley begged the unknown man, almost incapacitated by the immense strain that his previous feat had put on his body. The surprised traveler immediately got off his ride and approached them. He was a Burmecian too, his clawed feet giving away his origin despite his figure being obscured by a mixture of leather armor and desert clothing.
"You are a dragoon, aren't you?" the man asked, kneeling to assess both Burmecians' wounds. "What happened to you?"
"My name is Fratley, good sir. She is my wife, Freya. The sandstorm caught us away from home and we fell downhill. She bumped her head and I think my right leg is broken."
"Fratley and Freya? The heroes of Burmecia..?" the man mumbled, astounded, as he checked Freya's respiration. "Um, sorry... I kind of got carried away. Help me lower her to the ground. Slowly. I'll stabilize her head to prevent further damage to the spine."
"Are you some sort of doctor, young man?" Fratley asked as he put his wife on the floor with the traveler's help.
"You could say so, brave knight. Now hold her like this."
"Like this?"
"Yes, Excellent," the man answered, going back to his chocobo to grab a big leather bag.
"May I ask your name, good sir?" the dragoon inquired, his voice filled with gratefulness.
"Oh! Yes... where are my manners? The name's Ulrich, it's an honor to meet you."
"How strange... If I were to judge him solely by your story, I would be inclined to think that he's a good person..." Garnet said, rubbing her chin.
"His medical work during the Blight was admirable, indeed. A great amount of people, myself included, would be dead if not for him," Freya answered, taking a sip of her tea. It was cold, but she didn't mind. Zidane and Tot had stopped running around and were now lying on the grass, basking in the sun like two oversized cats.
"Yes... I remember when he established his network of treatment centers. He also used them to shamelessly spread anti-Alexandrian propaganda," the queen reminisced.
"Exactly. He exploited his newfound popularity to inject his ideas into the Burmecian society," Freya added.
"What I don't understand is how didn't we learn about your illness... why didn't Puck or Fratley write us about your condition? Why didn't Ulrich make it public?"
The dragoon lowered her eyes in shame.
"I... personally requested Ulrich and Fratley to keep it secret, and because I remained at home during the entirety of my recovery, not even Puck himself knew about it."
"I'm surprised that a power-hungry snake like him didn't use the story to boost his popularity even further," Garnet commented.
"If you knew him personally, you wouldn't be," the Burmecian replied.
"What are you talking about?"
"Unlike Kuja and most corrupt nobles that we have dealt with, Ulrich honestly believes himself to be a hero. He thinks that offing Puck was an enactment of justice and is stubbornly convinced that he will lead the kingdom towards greatness."
"Justice..? Justice for what?"
"As you know, he claims that Burmecia's alliance with Alexandria is an insult to those who died during the Mist War. He saw Puck as a traitor who no longer deserved to rule and most of the court and the common folk agreed with him. In fact, if he has managed to get away with regicide until now, it's mostly because almost no one cared if Puck lived or died as long as Ulrich became regent."
"Oh, dear..." the queen sighed, covering her eyes in frustration, "I can't imagine how lonely you two must have felt in such a context."
Freya stared for a while at her old wedding bangle, her eyes glinting with a mixture of fury and sorrow.
"Do you know what hurt me the most?"
Garnet glanced at Freya's bracelet, realizing where she was going with her question.
"What hurt me the most is that when he had to make a choice, he failed to choose me once again," the dragoon growled, clenching her teeth so hard that Garnet thought they would crack.
The queen and the Pluto knight looked at their friend in stunned silence, not knowing how to react.
"Are we talking about..?" Steiner asked, but was promptly cut off by Garnet sternly glancing at him.
"Yes... Fratley. Blinded by Ulrich's grandiloquent promises, he abandoned Puck's side and went back into active service as a dragoon under the chancellor's orders," the Burmecian confirmed.
"... What? But he was so loyal to his kingdom!" Steiner exclaimed, astounded.
"That's exactly what made him leave us. He grew so attached to Ulrich after he saved my life that he couldn't see through his lies," Freya said, nostalgically smiling. "It would be endearing if it wasn't so sad, but I remember Fratley coming home every night and talking over and over about him and everything he had achieved. He was like a child, gushing about his hero..."
"And he had no reason to distrust him, as his first memory of Alexandria is the devastation of his homeland at my mother's hands..." Garnet added, beginning to see the big picture.
"I know you, and I am very aware of all you've done to help Burmecia during these years, but the Mist War and the tragedies that ensued were just too much for my people. I must confess that I might have found myself on Ulrich's side if I wasn't so fond of you all..." the dragoon said, staring at her own reflection in the half-empty teacup.
"Oh, sweetie..." Garnet sighed, holding Freya's hand. "You can't imagine how much I despise myself for not being able to undo all the suffering that mother caused..."
"No Garnet, you put an end to the war and gave us all another chance at life. For that, and everything else, you will forever have my gratitude and my affection," the Burmecian replied, gently squeezing her friend's hand and smiling warmly at her. "Don't blame yourself for circumstances that escape your control."
"I still can't understand why a righteous knight like Fratley would side with a vile murderer instead of you, Lady Freya..." Steiner said angrily.
"Well... about that..." the dragoon said. "He did side with that monster against us... but when Ulrich finally tried to kill me for discovering that he had poisoned poor Puck, Fratley distracted him long enough to allow me to escape the kingdom with that information. He should have reached Lindblum by now, but I'm still worried about him..."
"Poison, you said? That disgraceful coward! I want to..!" Steiner exploded, furiously gesticulating.
"He... distracted him?" Garnet asked, instead, "Please don't tell me that he can also best you both in a fight..."
"No. He's skilled, but he's too inexperienced to beat any of us in direct combat. He relies instead on a deadly ace up his sleeve that I forced him to reveal during our duel... and if we are to vanquish him, we must find a way around it first," Freya stated.
Garnet stared at the dragoon in disbelief.
"... Just what kind of power does this madman wield, Freya?"
"He bears the Mark of the Dragonslayer, and he has used venoms and trickery to feed it more than a hundred dragon souls."
"A Dragon's Crest..! But didn't you have one too, Lady Freya?" Steiner gasped, recoiling in shock.
"Yes, but mine is significantly weaker. After discovering the necromantic nature of the mark, I decided not to feed it anymore. Not even dragons deserve to have their souls devoured."
"Let me get this straight..." Garnet said, rubbing her temples, "the anti-Alexandrian, murderous bigot that usurped our neighboring kingdom's throne has a personal army of over a hundred invulnerable spectral dragons..."
"That... sums it up quite well." Freya replied, biting her lower lip.
The queen stared blankly at the Burmecian for a few seconds.
"... Steiner, could you please ask Quina if we still have some of Blank's wedding gift left?"
"Uh... are you sure, Your Majesty..?" the Pluto Knight asked.
"Sadly, I'm just kidding. Bring Beatrix, I'm gonna fetch Zidane, we need to discuss this right now," the monarch ordered.
"Your Majesty!" an armor-clad man yelled as he ran towards the kiosk.
"What now?" Garnet sighed.
The rotund knight reached the structure and gave the queen the missive he carried.
"Your Majesty, you have urgent mail from Burmecia! It's signed by Chancellor Ulrich!" he blurted out, sweating like a pig.
"Breireicht! How dare you show up like this in front of the queen?!" Steiner boomed. The knight squealed in fear.
"Thanks, Breireicht," the queen said, somewhat calming him down. He then bowed to her and left.
"I swear I'm going to punish him for this..." Steiner mumbled as he drew a short knife and passed it to the monarch.
"Don't be so hard on him, Steiner," Garnet said, cutting open the envelope. She started silently reading the letter while Steiner and Freya gathered around her.
"Um... what does it say?" the Burmecian asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.
"Hmph... looks like the dragon has finally decided to crawl out of its cave," the queen replied.