"Dad, please, help me understand..." Freya asked as they traversed the forest toward Reis's bastion. "Is that really Cleyra? How did we get here? And where's Gizamaluke?"
"Whoa, relax, darling! One question at a time!" Fridgeir chuckled. "Reis is quite a nostalgic woman, so she shaped her hidden fortress like the old desert kingdom."
"Yeah, nothing says hidden like a ginormous tree right under Berlioz's nose..." Zidane muttered, glancing nervously at Folkvángr.
Freya craned an annoyed look at him and Fridgeir laughed, much to the Genome's chagrin. He had underestimated their super rat senses.
"I guess you've got a point, young sir!" the ghost cheerfully exclaimed. "However, Lord Gizamaluke has taken great pains to shroud this forest with the mightiest illusory barriers imaginable. Combine that with Ginnungagap's non-Euclidean geometries and the Allfather's laziness, and you get the recipe for a perfect hideout."
"... What's 'Euclidean'..?" Zidane asked.
"We've arrived!" the phantom proclaimed, happily avoiding the subject. The dense canopy gave way to a vast clearing and the winding roots of Cleyra came into view, large enough to rival Iifa's. "Majestic, isn't it?"
"Indeed..." Freya agreed, but her broken voice failed to dissimulate the storm that raged inside of her.
"What is it, darling?" Fridgeir asked, resting a hand on his daughter's shoulder.
"Nothing... it's just... this is where you grew up, isn't it? Your hometown..."
"Heh heh... no, not really..." he answered, much to her surprise.
"What..?" she uttered. "I thought you were born here..."
"Yeah, but Grandpa Kain decided that I wouldn't become an apt dragonslayer if he raised me among a bunch of... what did he call them..?"
"Tree-hugging pansies..." the knight recalled, holding back a chuckle.
"Yeah, right..." her father concurred. "... he was such a subtle old man..."
Freya snorted.
"Yeah..."
"You still blame yourself for what happened to Cleyra, don't you?" Fridgeir asked, dropping his goofy demeanor.
His daughter lowered her eyes to the ground, letting her silence speak for her.
"Wanna know why did the sandstorm die out back then?" he asked, immediately getting her attention. "Reis... is dying."
It took her almost five seconds to process such an outrageous statement.
"What..? Why..?" she muttered, shaken to the core.
"Because she's an idealist, unwilling to tap into Berlioz's power source due to moral and practical reasons," Fridgeir answered. "However, energy deprivation ain't a good thing for a goddess..."
"I thought the gods didn't have to worry about stuff like that..!" Zidane commented, surprised. "Where the hell are Berlioz's powers coming from to make her prefer starving to death?"
"Dragons..." Freya stated. "That's how he attained godhood; by stealing their souls and single-handedly driving them to near extinction."
"Correct," Fridgeir concurred. "The inherent horror of enslaving a being for eternity notwithstanding, Reis is right about Berlioz's method being short-sighted: keeping Folkvángr going requires an unfathomable amount of energy, and a soul has only so much juice. One day the dragons will die out, and the Field of Warriors with them."
"Isn't Berlioz aware of this?!" the Genome squawked. "Just how stubborn can he get..?"
"He knows that his time draws near, but change frightens him so much that he deludes himself into thinking he has the situation under control," the ghost explained.
"How do you know all this..?" Freya interrupted him. "You told me Reis kept you in the dark about such matters..."
"Lord Gizamaluke convinced her to break her vow..." he answered. "He has a plan to save everyone... and she has a big soft spot for her son."
The wind whispering through the leaves filled the silence that grew between father and daughter.
"The son of Reis..!" Freya gasped, covering her mouth. "We've murdered her child..!"
Zidane gulped.
"Forget about it, no one blames you for that," Fridgeir said, looking at Cleyra. "Right now, you only need to focus on overcoming Reis's test."
"Wait, test? What test?" the king asked.
"You both can't control your power because you're stuck in the past," the spirit replied. "The fortress in front of you is a sentient entity. It will draw your darkest memories out of your mind and make you confront them as you make your way to the top. Only by making peace with them, you'll find the path to salvation."
Zidane and Freya exchanged glances and then stared at Reis's stronghold, wondering what kind of horrors they would encounter within its walls.
"I dunno... I don't think I'll be able to forget some of the things I've been through..." the Genome sighed.
"Making peace with your past doesn't mean pretending it didn't happen," the ghost said.
"I suppose you won't be coming along, right..?" Freya ventured, a little disheartened.
Fridgeir offered her a bittersweet smile.
"Listen, Pumpkin... bringing a guide into the fortress is explicitly forbidden. It's important that you two forge your own path," he said, gently brushing her hair out of her eyes. "However, I'm allowed to intervene if you get overwhelmed, so you won't be actually alone."
"Will I see you again..? Once we reach the top..." she asked, closing her eyes to bask in the warmth of his touch.
"Of course! We owe ourselves a proper reunion!" the spirit agreed with a wink. "Maybe we can even throw a barbecue party and invite your royal buddy over."
"Heh heh... you never change," Freya sighed as she leaned in for a hug.
Fridgeir grinned, embracing his daughter tightly. Zidane stared at the scene for a moment in delighted silence before wandering off to give them some space.
"I had no idea you were that close with your family," the Genome broke the silence as Freya and him crossed the bridge that lead to Cleyra's gate.
"Oh..? Yeah... I had a happy childhood," she answered with the kind of smile that Zidane hadn't seen on her face for years.
"I still can't believe that guy's your dad, though," the king commented.
"And why's that, if I may ask?" the knight retorted, a defiant glint in her eye.
"I dunno... he's just so bubbly, talking about barbecues and calling you Pumpkin in the middle of the underworld," he answered. "Just how many embarrassing nicknames do you have, by the way? I'm starting to think I don't know you at all."
"... That's because I was only a child the last time we saw each other," the dragoon somberly explained. "I started my training at the academy when I was eleven, and Sir Wulfweard took me in as his apprentice shortly after. By the time I came back home as a knight, my parents were long gone..."
"Shit..." Zidane whispered, lowering his gaze. "I'm sorry, pal..."
The knight sniffed once and pulled herself together in the blink of an eye. She had gotten damn good at it.
"Don't worry... it's all in the past. Right now, I'm glad he's safe with Reis."
The Genome made a pause, knowing he was probably about to cross several lines at once.
"... Isn't that odd, though?" he ventured, testing the waters.
"What do you mean?"
"Why did Reis preserve him, of all people?" Zidane pressed on. "Wasn't he supposed to return to the Crystal, like the rest of Berlioz's enemies?"
Freya stopped walking and angled a troubled look at her companion.
"Elaborate..." she asked.
"Look, I don't mean to speak ill of your family or your gods, but I'm a politician, and I have a hard time dismissing Reis's decision as a mere coincidence," he explained, trying to phrase his thoughts as delicately as possible.
"What's your hypothesis?"
"... I know this will sound crazy, but what if Reis and Gizamaluke have been grooming you to become their weapon against Berlioz since you were a kid?" he theorized. "Think about it: why would they have gone out of their way to specifically save your father's soul from the Crystal if they hadn't been planning to use him to manipulate you?"
"He's not the only soul they've saved, remember?" she retorted, playing the devil's advocate. "Gizamaluke rescued the whole Black Mage village, for example. We have no idea how many people they've brought back in secret, and my father could be just one of many."
Zidane folded his arms and lowered his eyes.
"I dunno... I'm so used to dealing with scheming assholes that I can't avoid feeling the whole Burmecian pantheon is trying to use you..." he said. "By the way, I didn't mean your old man is conspiring with them. I'm just worried they could be exploiting his gratitude to get to you."
Freya sighed.
"I appreciate your concern, Zidane, but right now we're out of options," she calmly stated. "The only way we'll piece together what's really going on is climbing this tree and listening to Reis's side of the story. Until then, wasting our time overthinking won't get us anywhere."
The king snorted.
"It ain't fun being paranoid alone, y'know?"
"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure we'll find plenty of entertainment once we cross that gate," she countered, pointing at the fortress' entrance.
"Oh, I got this one!"
Nimble as an ape, Zidane hopped onto a nearby platform and pulled a hidden lever. "Hail to the king, baby."
"Can't believe you remembered that..." the Burmecian remarked.
"Woman of little faith," the Genome nonchalantly countered, somersaulting his way back to her side.
The gates of Cleyra yawned open, revealing a corridor so dark that not even Freya could make out its end.
"Any ideas?" she asked.
Zidane walked past her.
"I have something better; skills!" he answered, producing a floating, glowing Terran rune with a wave of his hand.
"Neat! When did you learn to do that?"
"I've been experimenting a bit with Garnet's help. Wish I could do flashier stuff than this without going nuts, though..." the Genome stated. "Ready to kick some ass?"
"Let's do this..."
After stumbling around in the gloom for a while, the duo reached a vast area where a series of root-like structures and platforms formed a stairway of sorts. There was no ceiling to be seen, only darkness and silence.
"This is new..." Zidane remarked, hoisting their meager light source above his head. "Dammit, almost can't see shit in here..."
Freya closed her eyes and listened to the way his voice reverberated throughout the chamber, roughly estimating its size.
"Looks like we're in for a very long climb..." she sighed.
Her friend didn't answer.
"Monkey-tail..?" she said, turning around only to find him staring at an empty spot.
"Freya..!" he whispered, pointing at a humanoid silhouette with glowing pupils that watched them from the shadows.
"What? What is it?"
"Look! There's something there!" he hissed, exasperated.
"Where?!" she exclaimed, earning herself a flabbergasted glance from her friend.
"Don't you see it?!" he answered, and then he started yelling at the shade, trying to provoke it into making a move. "Hey, asshole! Show yourself!" he shouted, but the creature retreated slowly into the dark until its eyes were no longer visible. "Shit... it's gone..."
"Remember what we were told..." the knight remarked. "The fortress can and will turn our fears against us..."
"Geez, this is gonna be Memoria all over again, isn't it?" he commented. "Hey... don't you feel like we've been here before?"
"Well... this place certainly looks more like Iifa than Cleyra..." she answered.
"It's giving me the creeps..." the Genome added, stepping on the bizarre, organic staircase. "C'mon, let's see where this thing leads to."
Thirty solid minutes of climbing later, Zidane stopped to catch his breath.
"Are you okay?" Freya asked.
"Yeah... just... need a minute..." the Genome wheezed, panting heavily. "Old age doesn't come alone, y'know?"
"Well, I'll be damned... Zidane Tribal just got winded walking up stairs!" she chuckled, patting him on the shoulder.
"Ha, ha... remind me to declare you persona non grata once we get back home..." he retorted, and then he noticed something moving out of the corner of his eye. Startled, he turned around and discovered their stalker perched atop another platform, watching them. "Geez, there it is again..."
Freya angled a look at the place he was staring at and, much to her surprise, this time she could clearly see the ominous, cat-eyed silhouette glaring at them.
"I can see it too..." she whispered, wishing she had a weapon.
"What should we do?" Zidane asked.
"Hmm... Fridgeir said we would have to make peace with our demons in order to progress..." the dragoon recalled. "Maybe we should try being nice to that thing..."
"A friendly monster scenario, eh? Okay..." the Genome muttered. "Hey pal! I'm sorry for what I said earlier! You scared the bejeezus outta me!"
Much to their surprise, the shade let out a high-pitched, malevolent, all-too-familiar chuckle.
"You need not worry, little brother..." the watcher said, stepping out of the shadows. "I see that your manners haven't exactly improved."
"Kuja!" Zidane exclaimed, nearly losing his footing at the sight of the silver-haired ghost.
"You..." Freya snarled, instinctively baring her teeth.
"What are you doing here?!" the king asked.
A large fracture appeared on the wall behind Kuja, rapidly growing across its surface until the gap was large enough for a person to fit through.
"Why don't you follow me and find out?" the phantom proposed with a smirk as he disappeared through the strange portal.
"Hey! Get back here!" Zidane yelled with a broken voice, chasing after his brother much to Freya's astonishment.
"Zidane, wait! It's obviously a trap!" she shouted, attempting to intercept the Genome with a powerful leap, but his simian agility allowed him to seamlessly dive and roll out of her reach as he continued his race to the door; his eyes were unnaturally misty, as if he had been placed under some kind of spell. "What the..?! ZIDANE, NO!"
Without a second thought, the Genome entered the portal, and the gap closed itself so fast that Freya almost crashed face-first into the wall.
"ZIDANE! ZIDANE, DO YOU HEAR ME?!" she yelled, desperately pounding the wall with her fists, but only the echo answered her screams. "ZIDAAANE!"
...
She was in trouble.
Not only had her friend impulsively left her to fend for herself against the power of the fortress, but he had taken with him their only light source, forcing her to rely on her other senses to navigate its impenetrable darkness.
"Godsdammit, monkey..!" she thought, closing her eyes to concentrate on her hearing, but Cleyra was so deathly silent that she could only hear her own heartbeat.
Suddenly, she picked up a quiet, rhythmic sound.
"Footsteps..." she deduced, trying to locate their source.
"I see you..." a voice whispered in her ear, startling her.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Freya exclaimed, her heart thundering in her chest.
A child's laughter echoed across the chamber, further terrifying her.
"It's just an illusion... just an illusion..." she repeated to herself, blindly stumbling in the dark as the footsteps drew closer and closer.
"... Just an illusion, you say?" the voice asked, and the question seemed to come directly from behind her.
Freya gasped and turned around, opening her eyes; a pair of dimly glowing pupils were staring back at her.
"W-What are you..? Stop! Don't come any closer!" she exclaimed, backpedaling until her right foot touched the ledge of the platform. "Dammit..."
The creature stood still for a moment, as if it was mocking her pitiful attempt at fending it off.
"You want to know what I am?" it growled, every word a dagger. "I am the result of your betrayal!"
The silhouette started growing in size, accompanied by a sickening symphony of shifting flesh and snapping articulations, until its eyes were at the same level than Freya's. A large Dragon's Crest manifested upon its chest, its pale blue glow illuminating the entity's features, and soon the knight understood which fragment of her past she was dealing with.
"Ulrich..."
"YOU ABANDONED OUR PEOPLE TO DIE!" the apparition howled, leaving behind a blazing trail as he pounced on Freya.
"So fast..!" she thought, assuming a defensive stance.
WHAM!
"Unf..!" the dragoon uttered as Ulrich recklessly tackled her, sending them both plummeting towards the bottom of the chamber.
"WHERE WERE YOU IN OUR HOUR OF NEED?!" he roared, seizing her by the neck in order to smash her head-first into the ground. "WHERE WERE YOU WHEN ALEXANDRIA MURDERED MY FAMILY?!"
"Get off me... you miserable... hypocrite!" Freya croaked, elbowing his wrists to break free of his stranglehold, but he shrugged it off.
"You know why you can't hurt me?" he snarled, strengthening his grip on her throat."Because you keep rejecting your roots!"
Freya glanced at the bottom of the chamber and estimated she had roughly seven seconds left before they hit the floor.
"HOW DARE YOU..." Ulrich bellowed as the knight slipped her hands between his wrists. "... CALL YOURSELF... A BURMECIAN?!"
"THIS IS FOR PUCK!" she yelled, digging her claws deep into his face. "AND THIS... IS FOR WULFWEARD!"
"Graaaarghhh-!" Ulrich screamed in pain as the dragoon drove her thumbs into his eyes.
THUD!