Una mattina mi sono svegliato
o bella ciao, bella ciao,
bella ciao, ciao, ciao
una mattina mi son svegliato
ed ho trovato l'invasor...
THWACK!
"Nrrrgh!" Sir Wulfweard grunted, biting back a scream as Gunnar Ironhide slammed him into a tree, the sheer force of his punch splintering its bark.
"Oh, the memories!" the Jäger exclaimed, following up with two bone-crunching headbutts in quick succession. "C'mon, pal! This is getting boring!"
Hoisting the dragoon by the neck, he raised his fist for a fourth strike.
"Careful what you wish for!" Wulfweard shouted, breaking free from his grasp with a sharp blow to the elbow joint.
"Oof! You little piece of...!" the Jäger bellowed. A deadly right hook narrowly missed the Partisan's face, who retaliated with a stomp to the side of Gunnar's knee.
CRUNCH!
The giant howled in pain as he summoned the power of his Crest. Sir Wulfweard barely managed to roll out of the way before a stream of spiritual energy obliterated the area. The dust hadn't even settled when three flying knives pierced the cloud, seeking Gunnar's head; he smirked as he grabbed the hilt of his spiked bludgeon.
"You know what they say, Wulfie!" he shouted, deflecting the projectiles with a precise drawing strike. "Don't bring knives to a mace fight!"
Something round and cold bopped Gunnar's pinky toe, startling him.
"Son of a..!" he thought, realizing that Wulfweard had slipped a rolling grenade beneath his guard. Miliseconds before the bomb detonated, he jumped as high as he could, soaring above the treetops to give himself a little thinking room.
"Gotcha!"
With a powerful jump, the Partisan burst out of the dust cloud, hurtling at break-neck speed toward the Jäger.
"Nice try..." Gunnar said, angling the hilt of his mace to parry Wulfweard's twin daggers. Lightning punctuated the impact as the dragoons clashed mid-air, the storm serving as a backdrop for their final duel. "... but you're as predictable as ever!"
With a quick flick of his wrist, the giant twisted his weapon to disarm him, using the opening to plant an armored elbow in his face.
CRACK!
"Rrgh!" Wulfweard uttered, blinded by the pain. The giant grabbed him by the collar and the next thing he knew he was plummeting head-first to the ground.
"Any last words?" the Jäger cackled, holding the Partisan in a bear hug to prevent him from breaking his fall. Wulfweard wiggled and struggled, trying in vain to escape, but Gunnar's might was simply too much to handle.
"Guess... I have no choice," Wulfweard thought, closing his eyes to mould his spiritual energy into a spell. A shimmering coat of magic formed over his skin, and by the time the Jäger understood what was happening, it was already too late.
"White Draw..?! But how..!?"
"Mother Reis, hear my plea in this time of need!" the Partisan roared.
His aura exploded into a mass of glowing tendrils, piercing and burrowing into Gunnar's soul.
"Gwaaaaaaarggghh!" the Jäger howled as the miracle tore his spirit asunder, syphoning away his life force. Empowered by the stolen essence, Wulfweard broke free from his grasp and aimed an open palm at his face.
"This is for my students!" he roared, wreathing himself with the ghostly power of the Dragon's Crest.
"Show me what you've got!" the Jäger challenged him, adopting a defensive stance.
KRA-KOOOOM!
Night turned into day as the spell birthed an explosion that looked like a miniature star. It was so powerful that Sir Wulfweard got thrown across the graveyard, recovering just in time to land on a tall cypress branch.
"Dammit... that was reckless..." he thought as he dispelled his protective shroud. Fatigue threatened to overwhelm him in short order, so he needed to make every move count. "Is it over...?"
The sound of distant, slow clapping answered his question.
"Guess that's a no..."
With a mighty jump, Gunnar emerged from the far side of the forest and landed in the middle of the glade, completely unscathed.
"Jävla skit, Wulf, I'm impressed!" he boomed. "I never thought you'd use pagan magic against your own kin!"
The Partisan chuckled.
"Cleyrans are also Burmecians, you know?" he retorted, coming to terms with the fact that both the fight and his soul were probably already lost.
"Spare me the lecture, you bleeding-heart son of a rat," the giant riposted, spitting on the ground for emphasis. "Nice blast, by the way. You been hunting?"
"You know me, I need to keep myself busy," the Partisan joked. "Your spirit armor is still as tough as ever."
"Heh... gotta live up to my rep, buddy," the Jäger replied.
A tense silence grew between them, only disturbed by the mournful droning of the rain.
"It doesn't have to end like this, Gunnar..." Wulfweard said, fingers wrapped around the hilt of his last knife.
"We've known it would for a long time," Gunnar answered, strenghtening his grip on his mace. "Don't worry... I'll grant you a true Burmecian's death."
Thunder rumbled above the field.
"Ready?"
"Let us settle this!"
As lightning set the skies ablaze, the warriors charged at each other, clashing in front of the pyre's ashen remains. Lighter and faster, the Partisan weaved, ducked and slipped through Gunnar's swings, looking for a chance to strike, but the Jäger had already figured him out and was fighting much more carefully.
"What's the matter, Wulfie? You look awfully tired!" the titan sneered, empowering himself with the Crest to hit harder and faster; he knew that Wulfweard lacked his vast collection of dragon souls, and thus couldn't beat him in a battle of endurance.
"He's right... I need to do something now!" the Partisan thought, barely keeping up with the Jäger's increased speed. Confident in his superiority, Gunnar raised his mace for an overhead smash and Wulfweard saw his chance to turn the tide of the battle.
"Now or never!"
The Crest on his shoulder glowed brightly as he dashed into grappling range; swift as a snake, the Partisan hooked Gunnar's arm mid-swing and stabbed him between the ribs.
SQUELCH!
"Ngh... not bad..." the Jäger grunted, grabbing the dragoon's wrist before he could dislodge his blade. "My turn!"
CRUNCH!
Wulfweard screamed in agony as the giant crushed his bones into pulp.
"This is for all the people who died on that ship..." Gunnar snarled with a vicious grin. Suddenly his ears twitched, and he craned an alarmed look over his shoulder. "Hey Wulf! Someone's come to see you!"
"Huh..?!"
"Why don't you go say hello!" the titan roared, spinning violently to hurl his opponent at an incoming Sigrunn.
THUD!
"Oof!" the girl uttered as she caught Wulfweard in her arms, falling flat on her back.
"Siggie! Are you okay?!" the old knight desperately asked. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
"Pulling your tail out of the fire, what else?" she answered, coughing a little.
"You're unbelievable!" he barked, beyond furious. "I agree to a hopeless duel to save your skin, and you casually decide to throw both our lives away!"
"Relax, it was hopeless until I arrived," she quipped, jumping to her feet. "Can you still fight with that wrist?"
Sir Wulfweard sighed and stood up.
"I've won fights with both my legs broken."
"Lindblum '78! That's what I call a fucking classic!" Gunnar chimed in, barely able to contain his rage. "Too bad you won't be around to hear the story!"
The Jäger aimed his palm at the Partisans and a shrieking swarm of phantoms burst out of his Crest, so numerous that they looked like a ghostly meteor shower.
"Ready, kid?"
"Born ready!"
The two warriors fired their own dragon souls at the incoming specters, each collision resulting in a deafening blast.
"We've got 'em!"
"Siggie, watch out!"
Shielded by his magic, Gunnar leaped through the explosions, catching the Partisans off guard.
"For Burmecia!" he roared, knocking Wulfweard into a tree with a devastating swing of his mace.
"Master!" Sigrunn yelled, ducking to avoid a decapitating blow. A sweeping kick sought her legs, but she had already jumped out of reach.
"Eat this!" she yelled, landing a tornado kick on Wulfweard's knife, driving it further into the Jäger's torso.
"Hhhrrrgggh!" the giant grunted, powering through the agonizing pain to hook Sigrunn's ankle, immobilizing her.
"Oh shit..." she said, preemptively activating her soul armor.
"Oh shit, indeed!" Gunnar exclaimed, hoisting her by the leg and slamming her, face-first into the ground.
CRACK!
"Uwaaargh!"
"You like that, bitch? Try another one!"
CRACK!
"P-please..!"
"Gwahahahaha!"
CRACK!
Sigrunn coughed and gasped for air, her sight obscured by her bloodied bangs. Exhausted by the effort and his increasingly painful wound, the Jäger finally let her fall to the ground.
"Whew... I must admit you're harder to kill than I expected..." he panted, raising his mace for the finishing blow. "May the Allfather have mercy upon your soul."
WHAM!
"Ngh! What the..?!" the giant uttered, finding himself tackled off his feet by a badly injured Wulfweard.
"Mother Reis, hear my plea in this time of need!" the Partisan shouted, brimming with spiritual energy.
The dragoons rolled and tumbled, engaging in a final grappling contest; Gunnar's overwhelming power versus Wulfweard's soul stealing magic.
"Graaaaaagh!" the giant roared, wiggling out of a joint lock and raising his fist for an overhead smash.
BLAM!
"YOU"
BLAM!
"CAN'T"
BLAM!
"BEAT ME"
BLAM!
"WULFWEARD!"
As his fist plunged for another strike, the Partisan caught his wrist with his good hand.
"Why won't you die?!" the Jäger howled in frustration.
"Wrong..." his opponent answered through gritted teeth, smiling at him as his aura changed from a greenish white to crimson. "You and I... are already dead!"
"W-what..?!"
"Here's to you, Frigg..." Wulfweard whispered as he closed his eyes, serenely embracing Death. Both dragoons began fading away from existence, consumed by the Partisan's last spell.
"N-no..! What is this..?!" Gunnar panicked, struggling in vain to free himself as his body turned into ghostly cherry blossoms. "No! Let me go! Not like this! Aaaaaaargh!"
His voice dissipated along with their bodies, scattered in the wind as flower petals.
"Master!" Sigrunn shrieked, powerlessly reaching out for him as he departed on his final journey.
Silence.
The rain seemed to pound on her very soul, cold, uncaring, merciless. She rolled onto her back and lay still, contemplating the moonless sky.
Thunder rumbled above the glade, mourning the end of an age.
"Why..?" she stammered, no longer able to tell between her blood, her tears and the godawful rain that kept pummeling her flesh. "Why, why, why? Why?!"
He was gone, and it was her fault.
She uttered a long, broken wail until her throat ached as much as her heart, and when she felt all hope was lost something snapped within her, flooding every last fiber of her being with boiling, raw, unlimited power.
"What... is this..?" she stammered in an increasingly distorted voice, watching her arm leave behind a hazy afterimage as she waved it around. "Huh..?"
The sound of approaching footsteps alerted her to the arrival of Gunnar's squad.
"Shit! What do I do? What do I do?!" she thought, desperately dragging herself backward toward the forest.
Eerie, cacophonic laughter rose from the darkest pits of her mind, terrifying her on a primal level. Something, a presence, began encroaching upon her soul, sapping her will and driving her sanity into a corner.
"W-who are you..?" she mumbled, unable to resist the call of madness.
"I am you and you are me..." the voice hissed, and the world faded to black.
March 31st, 1820, Alexandria Castle.
11:30
Having spent most of her life in the military (not to mention her stint as a farmer), Freya had become quite the early bird. That day, however, she awoke almost at noon, feeling unexpectedly refreshed. Lazily, she sat up in her bed, stretched out, and uttered a big, undignified yawn.
"Oh granny, what big teeth you've got!"
She gasped and choked on her own saliva, caught completely off guard. She hated getting interrupted like that.
"Hi, Eiko..." the Burmecian wheezed between coughs. "I hadn't noticed you there..."
The summoner got up from her chair and poured her a glass of water.
"Whoa, don't die on me, girlfriend!" she joked. "How you feelin' today?"
The dragoon drank avidly, hiccuped and raised a clawed thumb.
"Seriously though, I can't believe how fast you and Garnet have recovered," Eiko said, patting her on the back. "I mean, you two got butchered out there, for lack of a fancier word..."
"Now that you mention it, where's Garnet?" Freya asked, realizing that the queen's bed was empty.
"She's already back to work! Can you believe that? Woman must be made of mythril or something!"
"Classic Garnet..." the dragoon thought, a knowing smirk on her lips. "Oh, Eiko, I wanted to apologize for my rudeness last night..."
"Huh..? Whaddya mean?"
A pair of regretful jade eyes met her gaze, veiled by a mop of unkempt silver hair.
"Well... with all that's gone on, I forgot to thank you for everything you've done."
The princess blinked dumbly at her.
"Oooh! You're talking 'bout last week!" she piped up, awkwardly scratching the back of her head. "It's no big deal, really. We do that all the time with the squad."
"Of course it's important!" Freya exclaimed. "I... I wish I could have apologized at least for what I did."
"It wasn't your fault, sis. We both know Trance can be a nasty bitch," Eiko reassured her. "What the hell happened, though? I mean, you don't need to answer if it makes you uncomfortable, but man! I hadn't seen anyone go feral like that since the Treno Rebellion!"
The dragon knight averted her eyes, ashamed by the episode.
"... After Ulrich nearly killed me, I fled Burmecia with Fratley's help. I was so mad at him for not believing me about the assassination plot until it was too late... I guess I still am..." she said, fidgeting with her scorched wedding band. "... but I'm also glad he made it to a safe place."
"I warned you the man was a moron..." the summoner huffed, folding her arms. "Any idea where he might be now?"
"Well... we parted ways once we reached the Melda Arch. Sir Wulfweard told me that he wrote him from Dali."
"Did he fucking ditch you there? What a douche!" Eiko squawked. "How come you ended up at that alley, anyway? It's like, fifteen minutes from the station."
Freya sighed, haunted by guilt.
"I made a mistake..." she said, almost in a whisper. "Part of the docks were still being repaired because of the earthquakes, so my flight was delayed. I was alone, anxious and I didn't feel safe waiting there, so I decided to... um..."
"... Hit town and get shitfaced," the summoner finished her sentence, rubbing the space between her eyebrows. "Woman, we need to talk about that drinking problem of yours one of these days."
"Hey! For your information, I've been sober for almost a wee-!" the knight retorted, but then she remembered Garnet's party. "Nevermind..."
"Zidane told me you were ambushed by a bunch of freaking dragoons!" Eiko rerailed the conversation. "I can't believe they would attack you, the pride of their regiment!"
"Well, I did fight Ulrich in front of several witnesses, so it's small wonder I got branded a traitor," Freya conceded. "I mean, I didn't duel him in public... I just didn't expect a scholar to punch me through a wall."
"Wait, are you telling me the guys at North Gate let two wanted criminals through, no questions asked?"
"Of course not! We were trained by a former Jäger, so we know our way around border controls."
"Ooo...kay?" Eiko said, making a mental note to never mess with Freya. Or Jägers. Or Burmecians in general.
"The thing is, I hadn't fully recovered yet from that fight and there were too many civilians around to use my spells, so I got overwhelmed, kicked out of the pub and... hanged from a lamp post," the dragoon enumerated, much to the summoner's horror. "The next thing I remember is waking up here, in the castle."
"Holy shit, Freya... are you okay?" Eiko asked, worriedly stroking the Burmecian's cheek. "I can't... I just... sorry, this was a mistake..."
"It's all in the past now, don't worry," Freya answered, gently cupping her hand. "Besides, it's been an awfully long time since our last reunion. I missed you all."
The princess snorted.
"That's the most Zidane-ish thing I've ever heard you say," she joked, earning herself an annoyed glare from her friend. "Don't get me wrong, I ain't bitching! It's just... it's really nice to see you smile again, buddy."
Freya blushed slightly at the statement, but remained dignified enough not to let the summoner notice.
"Thanks... guess I've learned to appreciate the simple things," she said. "Growing old has its advantages."
"Hah! Speaking of appreciation, I have a little surprise for you, granny!" the princess exclaimed. "Hey, Dionne! Would you please let 'em in?"
The door creaked open and two Burmecian men entered the room, followed by Eiko's trusty bodyguard and a young demi-rodent girl.
"Sir Osbern! I'm glad to see you in good health!" Freya greeted him.
"Good afternoon, Lady Crescent," the war veteran answered, courteously nodding his head. "How are you feeling today?"
"Better than I should, all things considered," she quipped. "What about your men? Has your friend recovered from his wounds?"
"He's just like new and it's all thanks to Her Highness, the Princess of Lindblum," he solemnly answered.
"Just call me Eiko, pal," the summoner said, awkwardly scratching the back of her head. "Oh, right! Freya, they're here to wish you a quick recovery in the name of the Burmecian-Alexandrian community."
"... And to thank you for risking your life to protect us," the second man added in such a grateful tone that Freya was almost moved to tears. He was covered in bandages and had a lonely, melancholic voice. "Ari, what are you doing back there? Didn't you want to meet your hero?"
The little girl shyly peeked at Freya from behind Major Dionne. "H-hello..." she stuttered, trembling uncontrollably from head to toe.
"D'aww! Ain't you a cutie pie!" Eiko piped up, waving her closer. "C'mere! Don't be shy!"
Blushing furiously under her fur, Ari walked up to the bed, hiding something behind her back.
"Hi there, Ari!" Freya greeted her with a warm smile, and it was enough to send her running back to her father. Everyone in the room shared a hearty laugh as she pressed her face against his thigh, utterly embarrassed.
"She's my only daughter, Lady Crescent," the man explained, stroking the girl's hair. "Those... monsters took her hostage along with one of her friends and... strapped her to a bomb..."
Silence overtook the room as he started crying.
"... I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't reached her in time," he sobbed, kneeling to hug his daughter. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
"... Actually, I couldn't even reach the tower, good man," Freya stated, humbly lowering her eyes. "You should thank Sir Osbern, not me."
"Nonsense. We wouldn't have gotten past those flying creatures without you, ma'am," the veteran reassured her. "Besides, your bravery in battle allowed us to break through the enemy's defenses."
"A.K.A, stop putting yourself down, woman, geez..." the summoner translated. "Oh! Are those peonies in your hand, Ari? I freaking love peonies!"
The child flinched, realizing that she had accidentally revealed her surprise gift.
"Y-yes, Your Highness..." she stammered, nervously approaching Freya and extending her the small bouquet and a get-well card. "T-these are for you, Lady C-Crescent!"
"They're gorgeous! Thank you!" the dragoon answered, breathing in the scent of the flowers. She then opened the card and read it, a bright grin on her face. "Did you write this, Ari?"
"M-my dad and the neighbors helped me, b-but yeah..."
"Oh, there's a drawing! So you're an artist!" Freya chuckled, finding a crude, yet lovingly drawn picture of herself leading a group of Burmecians into battle.
"T-thanks! This is you, with a flaming spear!" she exclaimed, delighted by the compliment. "This is my dad, here's Mr. Osbern, the neighbors..."
"I assume this girl is you, am I right?"
"Yeah! And this boy is..." she said, but the sudden lump in her throat prevented her from completing the sentence. "This boy is..."
Her eyes began watering up.
"He's your friend... isn't he?" Freya asked.
Unable to stop herself from crying, Ari nodded her head.
"Little Soren is still missing, along with the rest of his family," Sir Osbern somberly stated. "We're still looking for them, but the circumstances of their disappearance are... strange."
"Come here, Ari," Freya invited her, patting the mattress. Hesitatingly, the girl climbed onto the bed and the knight held her until she calmed down a little.
"He took him..." the child suddenly hiccuped.
"What did you say?"
"Horik the White. He took him, I'm sure..."
The dragoon stared blankly at her for a moment.
"What..? But that's impossible..! Horik is..."
"... dead?" Ari's father said, folding his arms. "I thought the same at first, but my daughter is an enthusiast of Burmecia's military history, and her description of this man is chillingly accurate."
"Let's not forget he used to be a Jäger..." Sir Osbern added. "Maybe he faked his own death to go rogue. The question is: why would he abduct them?"
Freya closed her eyes. She had come to believe the albino manhunter was only a bad memory by then, but there he was, intruding in her life once again.
"We'll find them. I promise," she whispered in Ari's ear.
"Um... sorry for interrupting..." a bald Pluto Knight said, bumbling awkwardly into the room. "Lady Crescent, there's a Burmecian nobleman at the gate asking for a meeting with you. He claims to be an old friend of yours, but he doesn't look old enough for... wait, let me rephrase that..."
"Please, don't," the dragoon deadpanned. "Did he tell you his name?"
"Crap... what was he called again? Sigmund..? No... Wilfred, perhaps?"
"Sigfred..?" Freya muttered, wondering what was an idle snob like him doing in the middle of a warzone.
Author's note:
There goes the last chapter of the year!
TLCB is celebrating its first anniversary! A lot has happened since Freya showed up in Alexandria and it's all thanks to you, guys! I would have never made it this far without your support, so I wanted to thank you for this wonderful adventure!
See you on the next chapter: "The Last Cherry Blossom"
Jota Te.