"We live not to forget our past, but to learn from it."

- Freya Crescent

A man and a little girl walked in hurried silence along the cobbled streets of Burmecia. He was a young but experienced dragoon. She was the heir to a lineage of heroes. The cold autumn rain bore down mercilessly upon them, soaking their clothes and plastering their fur as their shared umbrella was too small to fit two people.

"... Can you still walk, kid?"

The child sniffed and nodded. Her left eye throbbed with pain, but her pride had taken an even worse beating than her body.

"You know... defending your friends is admirable, Freya, but you need to be smarter about how you do it," the man stated.

"They were hurting him, Mr. Rolfsen!" the girl huffed, wiping her nose on the sleeve of her coat. "I had to do something!"

"I know, but rushing headlong into fights you can't win will just get you killed," Sir Wulfweard retorted, this time in a stern tone. "Calling for help would have been a far better solution."

An awkward silence grew between them, only interrupted by the drumming of droplets on the umbrella. Freya pouted and lowered her eyes, feeling utterly foolish. The knight sighed and refrained from further lecturing her. He didn't like children or recklessness at all... but anything related to Frigg was a completely different story.

"... I don't get it..." Freya croaked, shooting a disarming stare at him. "Why is everyone so mean to Cleyrans, Mr. Rolfsen?"

"Um..." he muttered, scratching the back of his head. He considered telling her about the Desert Star, but finally decided not to. "... I guess people often hate what they don't understand."

"It's so unfair..."

"Hmm... you're probably right."

They kept walking in silence for a while until three small fingers shyly clung to his coat, surprising him.

"Say something, you fool..." he mentally chastised himself, craning an awkward look at the child; she was strong and righteous like her mother, yet she had her father's sentimental heart. An unusual creature, born from an unlikely union.

Awkwardly, he let Freya hold his hand for the remainder of the walk.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Be right there, hold on a second!" a familiar voice yelled from inside the Crescent residence.

Freya shrunk in her spot. Her body ordered her to hide behind Sir Wulfweard, but she quickly dismissed the idea as preposterous. She could hear her father fumbling around, probably looking for his keys. Finally, the door creaked open and a short, hazel-haired Burmecian man stepped out, visibly confused by the dragon knight's presence.

"Good afternoon, Fridgeir," the warrior said, politely tipping his hat.

"Oh, hello Sir Wulfweard! Nice to..." the house owner answered, and then he noticed his little companion. "Freya, what happened to you?!" he exclaimed, rushing to her side.

"A gang of brats were picking on one of her friends for being part Cleyran and she jumped into the fray to defend him," the dragoon explained. "I was on patrol duty and saw the situation. They won't be bothering her again anytime soon."

Fridgeir froze up. Secession-related hate crimes were tragically common those days, and even if he was proud of Freya's courage, the idea of her becoming another victim terrified him on a primal level. Filled with a mixture of anguish and relief, he stood up and offered a deep bow to Wulfweard as per Cleyran tradition.

"... I can't thank you enough for protecting my daughter," he said. "Would you like to come in for a drink?"

"Oh... no, thanks. I should be heading back now," Sir Wulfweard excused himself, tipping his hat. "Duty calls."

"Mr. Rolfsen!" Freya exclaimed as he turned to leave.

"... Yes?"

"Thank you!"

The dragoon smiled.

"You have raised a fine daughter, Fridgeir," he said, walking away. "Good afternoon."

"May I see it?"

Freya nodded and lowered the compress, revealing an eye so swollen that she couldn't even open it.

"Tch... savages..." Fridgeir muttered under his breath as he spread herbal paste on a moist cloth. "Would you please extend your arm, honey?"

She obeyed and her father applied the poultice to a particularly large hematoma.

"... Are you mad at me, dad?" Freya asked.

"Mad..? No, I'm not mad at you, Pumpkin. I'm just a little worried," Fridgeir replied as he dressed the bruise. "If Mr. Wulfweard hadn't intervened, those kids could have seriously hurt you."

The girl lowered her eyes and sank into her seat, disappointed in herself.

"Don't get me wrong; I love you and I'm proud of your brave, generous heart," he said, booping her on the nose. "But you can't take care of others if you don't take care of yourself."

"Yes, dad..."

The man stopped talking all of a sudden. Freya could tell that he had just had one of his ideas by the way he stroked his chin.

"Darling, can you keep a secret?" he asked with an unreadable expression.

"Sure!"

"Okay," he said, touching his forehead with his fingertips. "Do you remember the stories I used to tell you about Lady Reis?"

"Yes! She's a nice goddess who likes helping people a lot!"

"Heheh... you got that right," Fridgeir replied, letting out a chuckle. "The thing is, she's real and she wants to give you a present... but you must promise me that this will stay between us. Deal?"

"A present? For me?" Freya exclaimed, a big grin on her face. "Pleeease, daddy! I swear I won't tell anyone!"

"Alright," he said, closing his eyes. "Mother Reis... hear my plea in this time of need."

An otherworldly gale blew into the room as his soul became a conduit for the goddess' power. To Freya's delight, the wind dissolved into a swirl of ghostly fireflies, dancing and fluttering around her like a miniature galaxy.

"So beautiful..!" she mumbled, fascinated by the spectacle.

"And it gets even cooler, look!"

The little Burmecian let out a gasp; a swarm of shimmering wisps had covered her arm. She giggled and waved it in the air, reveling in the spectral afterimages that the motion created. After a few seconds the sprites vanished into thin air, along with her injuries.

"Oh, my... I can see!" she yelled, overcome by excitement. "Daddy, it's a miracle!"

"Exactly," Fridgeir replied with a knowing smile. "Now tell me, Pumpkin... does your tummy still ache?"

"My... wait, what?" Freya uttered, puzzled by his question. She craned a look at her midriff and nearly fell off her chair; not only was she back to her adult self, but there were also two fresh scars where Lani's claws had pierced her. "W-what does this mean? What's going on?!" she stammered.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he answered with an apologetic smile. "I thought that showing you this memory would help me get my point across... guess it was a silly idea."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" she asked. "Wait... is this some kind of dying dream?"

"Dream? Yeah. Dying? Nah. You've got some pretty reliable friends out there," her father answered. "You're just sleeping, and I've come to keep you company."

Freya froze up. She couldn't talk, think or even cry. All she could do was to stare at him, utterly, hopelessly confused.

"... Dad?"

"Hi, Pumpkin..."

"B-but the cycle of souls..! No... you can't be here!" the dragoon stammered, springing to her feet. She wanted to believe he was there, she wanted it more than anything else in the world, but... what if she was just being toyed with? Everything was too convenient to be true.

"I know it's hard to believe, but..."

"No! You died! You died and returned to the Crystal!" she screamed with an increasingly broken voice. "I've mourned you! I'VE MOURNED YOU, DAMMIT!"

"Freya, please listen..."

"I get it now... you find all this amusing, don't you, Berlioz?" she pressed on, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Taking everything from me... tormenting me with visions of my family... does your cruelty know no bounds, you... you beast?!"

"But I'm not..!"

"Enough!" the knight exploded, her desperation transmuted into scorching hatred. "Curse you, false god! I won't let you do this to me!"

"Freya, wait! Where are you going?"

"Away from you!" she yelled, bolting out of the house without giving him time to react.

"... Way to go, Fridgey..." the spirit sighed, taking two raincoats from the stand and chasing after her.

Freya ran and ran under the spectral downpour. Decades of dry weather had made her forget how merciless the rains of Burmecia could be, and her drenched bangs just wouldn't stop getting in her eyes. The city wasn't only devoid of life, but also seemed to be frozen in time years before the Mist War, judging by the presence of buildings that had been razed to the ground long since.

"I need a weapon... maybe in the palace..." the dragoon thought. She wasn't expecting to outrun a god, especially in the spirit world, but she would at least face oblivion with defiance.

She turned left at an intersection only to find the man who claimed to be her father, standing in the middle of the street.

"Honey, please, I just wanna talk!" he yelled.

"Don't you 'Honey' me, you piece of..!" she barked back, accelerating to a sprint with her fist raised; if Berlioz wouldn't stop his little games, then she would play by her own rules.

CRACK!

"Nrgh!" Fridgeir uttered as his daughter punched him in the face so hard that he lost his footing.

"Huh..? Did you just..?" the dragon knight mumbled, surprised by how easily she had knocked him down; Berlioz was just too prideful to let her humiliate him like that.

"Man, that hurt..." the spirit groaned, clicking his jaw back into place. "Drat... I think I've swallowed a tooth."

"What are you doing? I wasn't even trying," Freya sneered, trying to provoke the 'god' into blowing his cover.

"Well... I didn't get to experience your rebellious phase, so I'm catching up on my parenting," he answered, wiping the blood off his lip. "... Sort of."

"... You're ridiculous."

"Why, thanks! I get that a lot."

Freya stared at the downed man in disbelief. It was him. It had to be him.

"... How is this even possible?" she asked with a wavering voice.

Fridgeir smiled and rose to his feet with a little help from his daughter.

"By ridding you of his cursed seal, Berlioz has unwittingly set you free," he answered. "Without his brand clouding your senses, he can no longer hide the truth from you."

"The truth..?"

"He's not as much in control as he'd like us to think," the spirit stated, gazing at the overcast sky. "His influence on the cycle of souls weakens by the second. He's grown awfully paranoid because of it."

"Huh? Do you know why?" the dragoon asked, surprised by the revelation.

"Only Lady Reis does... sadly, she's bound by an oath of silence, so we can only speculate about it," Fridgeir answered, handing her an old crimson raincoat. "Anyway, you should be happy! You're your own master now."

The dragon knight took the garment and smiled nostalgically; it had been her favorite one for a long time.

"Isn't it ironic..?" she muttered, holding the coat close to her chest. "I've dreamed of this day for decades... yet I can't help feeling numb inside..."

"You've been through a lot..." her father said, brushing a strand of damp silver away from her eyes. "Most people in your place would have given up several times over, but not you. Death itself couldn't stop you, and even if this... ungrateful world insists on forgetting it, I shall always remember that humans and gods alike are in your debt, my brave, beautiful Freya."

Overcome by emotion, the dragon knight pulled him into a desperate embrace, dreading that he would slip through her fingers at any moment.

"I love you... I love you so much..." she sobbed against his chest. He was there. He was there with her and nothing else mattered."I have so many questions... there's so much I need to tell you!"

The rain stopped falling and the sky abruptly shattered like glass. Beams of light started seeping through the cracks, consuming the dream like a fire.

"... I'm afraid we'll have to leave it for another time, my dear," Fridgeir said, holding her tight as the world collapsed around them.

"No... I don't want to lose you again..!" she croaked, digging her nails into his coat.

"Freya, listen to me," her father said, cupping her face in his hands. "You've been granted a second chance. Make the most of it! Follow your heart, but don't forget to love yourself. Deal?"

"... Deal," she answered, blurry jade meeting warm sapphire. "Will I see you again?"

"Yeah! Sooner than you think."

"Promise..?"

"Promise," he replied, nuzzling her one last time as he vanished into the light. "Just keep me in your thoughts and I'll find you!"

"I will..." Freya said with a peaceful smile, memorizing the feel of his touch. "... Till next time, dad."

Author's note:

I would like to thank Érica for proofreading this mini-chapter. Second part in a few days!