Chapter Five

The tweeting birds awoke Garnet. Slowly, her eyes opened to find a makeshift tarp wavering in the wind above her. It took her mind a moment to kick into gear and register all the events. Garnet sat up on her elbow, rubbing the sleep from her sore eyes. Basil had given her his tent last night. Cautiously, Garnet crawled out to see Basil already awake, poking a small brooding fire with a stick. When he heard noise, he looked over his shoulder and grinned. He was holding a small sartin mug that sported numerous dents. She felt quite self-conscious as she stood in the wrinkled, stained, and torn wedding gown. Garnet glanced around the clearing and paused when she saw little socks and trousers hanging from a branch to dry.

"Morning," Basil said, turning back to keep stoking the pit. Garnet was slow to approach the growing fire. "There's some coffee in that kettle right there. Should still be warm."

"Thank you," she replied, though she made no move to reach for it. "I believe I've been enough of a burden as it is."

"That's not true at all," Basil shook his head after sipping his coffee. "Mathilda is elated by your presence. She's just washing her face. She would really like to meet you. The Mysterious Woman, she's been calling you."

Garnet again looked at her surroundings. They seemed nomadic by nature because of how sparsely stocked their campsite was equipped. She pressed her hands together in front of her rather meekly. "You and your daughter... travel a lot? No place to call home?"

Basil was quiet as he watched the fire from beneath the brim of his corduroy hat. "Nothing of that sort, no. Burmecia was our home for a long, long time. Mathilda's too young to remember. I gave my all for the Dragoons. When the famine came and passed, I knew we couldn't stay there. Mathilda needs to see the world and other things. Not what was within those city walls."

"I understand," Garnet nodded, lowering her eyes.

"What about you?" Basil asked. "What's home for you?"

Garnet sighed and tilted her head back to watch the passing clouds in the early morning light. "I don't even know. Lies, corruption, humility..."

Basil cracked a grin. "Doesn't matter who you are. The atrocities of this world spares no one."

In the next moment, they both suddenly heard jaunty whistling. Emerging from the brush was a small Burmecian girl. Her ashen hair was freshly washed and glowed in the morning light. It had been confined to a bun that sat neatly between her two ears. Her fur was cream and she wore clothes that were obviously made for boys. A vest and long sleeve crimson red tunic covered her wiry torso. She did wear a skirt, however. She was easily the poster child of the nomadic lifestyle. She had a towel in her hands but came to an abrupt stop when her eyes saw Garnet.

"This is her, Papa?!" She gasped, flinging the towel to the ground with excitement. Her father nodded.

"This is Dagger."

"Dagger!" She echoed, almost as if she was envious of the stranger's mystifying and elusive background. "Mathilda Tabone!" She surged forward with her small hand. She gave the Queen a vigorous handshake, though. "I wish I could have seen your dress before it got wet." Garnet managed a weak and airy laugh, feeling herself drown in self-consciousness again.

"I've got an old tunic and some trousers that would probably fit you," Basil offered. "If you're not interested in going back for your things, that is... I imagine it would be hard to travel in that dress."

"I'm sure my luggage has been robbed blind," Garnet told him. Mathilda continued to stare at her swollen and bruised face with practical stars in her eyes. "That is, if I could ask one more thing of you."

"You're already leaving?!" Mathilda was beside herself. "You just survived a horrific drop down a waterfall. You're in no condition. Papa, tell her!"

Basil had already set his coffee down and was off to fetch some clothes from a rucksack crumpled against the side of his tent. "We can't tell her that, Mathilda. All I can tell her is to be sure to stop by a clinic in a week to get her stitches undone."

Mathilda threw her hands at her side. "You should be the one to remove them. You sewed her up, anyway."

"And I am most grateful," Garnet interjected, pressing her hand to her chest. "I'm sorry, Mathilda. But I shouldn't invade anymore on your campsite."

"Invade?" The young girl seemed incredulous. "Dagger, you're our guest! We never get to entertain anyone! I've still got the jelly beans I bought in Treno. I'd love to share them with you." Garnet smiled at the young girl. In a lot of ways, she reminded Garnet of Eiko. Of course, they seemed to be about the same age.

"You're going to rot your teeth out," Basil said, plainly, as he brought a bundle of folded clothes to Garnet. "Hopefully the boots fit. They don't have a lot of tread on them, but I was given them by a traveler in exchange of some fabric I didn't need. Figured I could trade them elsewhere."

"These are leather," Garnet shook her head, slowly accepting what he brought. "You could trade this for food. I can't take them."

"Please, do," Basil held his hands up. "The opportunity hasn't arisen. Besides, it's extra weight I don't need. Our feet certainly don't fit in them."

As Garnet pressed the garments against her chest, she looked between the stubborn daughter and humbled father. What were the odds, she wondered. As she committed to falling off the cliffs edge, she wasn't entirely counting on herself surviving. Someone or something was looking out for her, however, as she managed to wash up right on the bank of a kind nomadic family's campsite. Garnet's fingers knotted against the tunic as she met Basil's eyes. "Thank you. It will never be enough. But just... thank you."

"Don't mention it," Basil offered a grin as he scooped his sartin up and wrapped his arm around Mathilda's hunched shoulders. "There's good privacy among those bushes right over there. Take your time. We'll start making breakfast."

"I hope you like blueberries!" Mathilda's eyes lit up, any exasperation she felt the moment before quickly evaporating.

...

"The tabloids want inside," Steiner said, looking to Beatrix who stood at the top of the staircase in the central foyer. Both the General and Captain sported dry, red eyes. Sleep had been impossible. For both of them, it felt like they were only going through the motions with business in Alexandria. "It's been silent too long in the wake of the wedding." Beatrix tensely massaged her throbbing temples as she descended the stairs. "If we don't give them a little clay to mold with, our situation is going to get out of hand very quickly."

Beatrix let out an exhausted sigh through her flared nostrils as she placed her hands to her hips. She shook her head, holding an arm out at her side. "In all my career here, I haven't given a damn about any of the tabloid journalists. All they do is stir the pot and create non-sensical rumors. I say leave them in the dark and at the dock. The throne needs its privacy after such an event."

Steiner pursed his lips and lowered his eyes. "And you're referring to allowing the Queen and King-consort time to sort through the tumultuous wedding?"

"It's our last line of defense, Steiner." They shared a silent, solemn look between them. The soldiers had come back empty handed. As did Freya and Eiko. But the young Lady swore up and down that there was a chance Garnet survived. Both Steiner and Beatrix found it hard to give themselves into that perspective of happiness. Of course, accepting the reality of Garnet's death was neither one of their top options, they couldn't bear to get their hopes up only to have them ultimately dashed.

Freya appeared at the top of the stairs soundlessly. Her ashen hair was allowed free down her shoulders and she wore a loose silk blouse that fell in lengths down her tall body. Just beneath that, gray pleated trousers covered her slender legs. Her hand curled around the balustrade of the railing as she watched Beatrix and Steiner's silent exchange. Fleetingly, she glanced up the staircase before she cleared her throat carefully. "Who are all those people across the river?"

Beatrix crossed her arms over her chest. "A bunch of busy-bodies."

"Tell the Knights of Pluto or Squad Beatrix to get them out of here," Freya said from where she stood. "No one has to answer to any one of them. All they've got to hold onto in their life is selling a believable story."

"If only it were that easy," Steiner turned to cock his head back to meet the Dragoon's eyes. "Here in Alexandria, it takes a delicate finesse to keeping the tabloids on our side. If we simply shoo them away, especially now, the eye witnesses at the wedding will only start exaggerating."

"Well, let them!" Freya's voice echoed through the high vaulted ceilings of the foyer as she came down the stairs. "They can misconstrue their own events, derive their own fairy tales, but no one but us knows the facts. Let the people mumble. Let them gather their own preconceived ideas. They're all wrong and we know that."

"This is a delicate situation," Beatrix told her with a tense voice. "What is to become of the throne once these wild ideas get out of hand? We're only looking at, yet again, another insurrection." Beatrix pursed her lips tightly as stress and anxiety collided within her. Her dark eyes came sharply across the Dragoon. "It can't happen again, Freya. Not when my son lives here." Freya's face softened and she gently ran her hand along her jaw. It pained her to think about anyone wanting to harm a child, but when her thoughts drifted to Burmecia, she could only shudder inwardly.

"Then someone must talk to them," Freya said, looking between the two. "If you don't, your exact fears will come to fruition."

Beatrix sighed again and paced away, her hands still on her hips. For the entirety of her servitude to Alexandria, never did she imagine herself at that moment in time. King Emet, gone. Queen Brahne, gone. And now Queen Garnet, poof. Hadn't she paid her dues? Did she still owe more pain and misery? She ran her tongue over the front of her teeth before she turned towards Freya. "Who do you suggest?"

"You."

"Me?" Beatrix was incredulous. "I'm losing my damn mind, if you haven't noticed."

"Steiner?" Freya cocked her head.

"Oh, no," Steiner backed away from the Dragoon. "My job does not require eloquent speaking and quick witted lies."

"Well, I certainly can't do it!" Freya held both her arms out at her side. "I'd be sorely out of place. Then they would know something is going on."

The trio was silent for a moment, trying to think of something on the whim to save their sorry asses. After just a few seconds, Beatrix snapped her fingers. "Lady Eiko. She's closely tied to Alexandria and Her Majesty. She's young and cute. She could jazz it up all nicely and really make them eat cake."

Just twenty-five minutes later, the tabloid journalists remained perched on the dock, waiting for something interesting to happen. Some were already scrawling their own thoughts and dramatic lines they could easily sell to the Alexandrian Courier, while others peered through looking glasses, trying to find anything happening behind a window. But one began stirring and soon they were eagerly looking across the river, watching as the buckling gondola sailed towards them. Young Lady Eiko sat perched on a planked seat, her blue eyes wide and her eyebrows arched as the excited tabloids stared at her intently. There was a gossip mill rooted in every nation, but never had Eiko seen them so hungry and prying for a story.

"You can stop here," Eiko told the soldier rowing the gondola. She stood up, deftly balancing against the buckling little boat. "We've noticed your lurking from the castle."

"Lady Eiko, will Sir Liam and Queen Garnet be able to repair their relationship!?"

"Did Queen Garnet bolt because she was as disappointed in Sir Liam's suit as we were?!"

"Was their love story really as perfect as we all thought?!"

"Will there be a re-do of the ceremony?!"

"What does this mean for the arrangement between Lindblum and Alexandria?!"

"Enough!" Eiko shouted, silencing them all. Her hands were curling into fists at her side as she felt a swelling of grief within her. She focused very close on the instructions Beatrix had given her. Nonchalant. Vague. They're not to have a clue as to what the next part of this story entails. Just words, Eiko. No emotions. Not the slightest misgiving. "Queen Garnet and Sir Liam ask for the decency of privacy as they work through the unfortunate events of the day before. I am here on behalf of my friends to ask you, kindly and only once, to refrain from this low level of journalism. Your questions are as unnecessary as they are not welcomed. An official statement is soon to come. We ask that you please be patient. And do not linger here. Your gathering is in violation of the Alexandrian Security Act that during times of peace, crowding is not welcomed at the river. And freedom of the press does not supersede that code."

Back at the castle, Beatrix, Freya, and Steiner gathered in a window with an advantageous view. They watched as slowly, the journalists began lamely swinging their arms, before they turned and started dispersing. Their body language conveyed disappointment. But for the trio stood in the castle, they felt a wave of relief and looked between each other, nodding with content. In the boat, Eiko watched them march away. She could only shake her head in disgust at their prying. Slowly, she seated herself, tensely putting her hands in her lap. A few years ago, she would have also been desperately curious with an obnoxious nature to boot. But there were always limits. It was obvious something terrible was unfolding, leading towards an awful reality. Eiko's purple bangs clawed across her forehead as she watched the last of the journalists funnel away. People's lives were not a toy. They were not to be trifled with, no matter who they were.

...

After Garnet had dressed in new, clean clothes, she found herself rather dizzy. Basil expected it. It was obvious the desire to travel to Burmecia was simply out of the question at the moment. The father-daughter duo, however, wanted Garnet to feel comfortable at their campsite, and not at all like the burden she proclaimed. The young woman had been through a lot. Basil saw that. He himself still reeled from the Mist Wars years ago. She was not spared of any atrocity, it was easy to see. Garnet was tasked with keeping the fire alive. She also washed pots, pans, cups, and cutlery as Mathilda went off foraging, and Basil began preparing lunch for that afternoon. As Garnet ran the rag through the bucket and gave it a wring, she watched the man at the nearby table, who was butchering a small animal he had speared with a javelin. His claws were delicate as he peeled the fur back, gently running a knife between the meat and coat to get a clean cut. Slowly, Garnet began running the rag along the rim of a tin mug.

"How long have you two been traveling?" She asked, her face still throbbing with each punch of her voice.

Basil didn't even look up from his task as he slopped the fur to the side and began inspecting the body for the butchering. He did, pause, however, and tilted his head back to watch the brush wave in the wind. "Well, Mathilda turned eleven two months ago... so about nine years now."

Garnet dipped the mug through the bucket, dumping it into the grass beside her. "Did you serve in the Airship Revolution?"

"Caught the tail-end of it," Basil nodded, cutting through the small creature. He was uncaring of the crimson blood staining his gray fur. "I had just finished my medical training for the Dragoons and entered in the last battles. The bloodiest I had been in. There were other little battles over the course of my career. None were without loss, civil or national. When the famine wiped through our nation, I knew I couldn't keep Mathilda there any longer. A good thing, too. I've only heard rumored nightmares of the Alexandrian Invasion."

Garnet stopped washing the fork in her hand, lowering her eyes to the flames beside her. Alexandria had so much to answer for. There wasn't a day that passed that she hadn't felt that burden. The terrible need to atone for what those before her had done. But why had she felt that way? She had done everything in her power to stop such things. Garnet didn't feel redeemed in several ways, however. But as the tweeting birds returned her to the scene of where she was, she couldn't help but feel those weren't her problems after all. That wasn't the life she was choosing for herself now. Basil brought the butchered slices of meat to the fire where he slapped them on a pan. Garnet quickly got back to work.

"So," Basil began, placing the pan on the rock structure he had built above the fire. "Why do you need to get to the Burmecian ports?"

"Just for easier travel," Garnet replied, putting the clean cutlery into a linen.

"But where are you going?"

Garnet picked a sartin up, running the rag through the water again. She kept her eyes trained intently on her task. "I'm going to see an old friend. They live on the Outer Continent."

Basil furrowed his brow and straightened up from where he was nudging the sizzling meat around. "The Outer Continent? But... nobody lives there. Not for generations." Garnet only offered him a smile as she moved onto the next cup. "It's not safe out there. Isn't that where the mist originated?"

"The mist is gone now."

"Will Gaia ever truly be rid of it?" Basil shook his head. "Even without the mist, the world is a cruel, unforgiving place. You have to be careful out there."

Garnet was about to respond when Mathilda came back into the clearing. She had a bundle of sticks in her arms, a leather satchel beating against her hip. She set all the wood on the ground beside Garnet. Then promptly, she tossed some sticks on the fire, sending sparks upward. Mathilda took a deep breath in, a smile spreading across her face. "Finally, something that's not an Oglop!"

"I think it's a bearcoon," Basil grinned. "What'd you find out there?"

Mathilda plopped on the ground and started rummaging through her bag. "Only the freshest herbs to make some mountain tea to go with our lunch."

"'Atta girl."

"Dagger, do you like mountain tea?" Mathilda asked, setting the dented kettle on the rock beside the cooking meat.

"I can't say I've ever had mountain tea," Garnet replied, tying a knot in the linen to keep the cutlery clean. "I like tea, however."

"Oh, you're about to be blown away!" Matilda said, confidently. She reached for a bowl and a thick chunk of rock that was stained from all the herbs she had crushed with it. She then began grounding down mint leaves, dandelion stems, and seedlings from sunflowers. Her smile never waned as she worked diligently, humming quietly to herself. Basil seemed to carry a worldly sense about him and his exasperation with the way reality had shaped him was very noticeable. But he seemed to effectively shield Mathilda from all of that. Her childlike innocence glowed about her. In a way, it was very endearing. A girl like Mathilda couldn't be spoiled. Basil easily saw to that. Whenever she was around, talks of the world ceased unless it was something positive. Like the cats she saw in Treno. And the sandcastles she built on the beach near the magical Chocobo Forest.

Finally, Garnet smiled as she finished washing the dishes. "If it's made by you, I'm certain I will be."

...

"You're certain? I really don't mind," Basil said that night, his hands on his hips. The fire had condensed to hot coals and it glowed warmly in the clearing. Garnet was settled on the ground with a thin cotton blanket and lumpy pillow.

"Yes, really," Garnet told him as she fluffed the pillow. "You've done plenty for me. You should, at the least, sleep in your own tent. I'll be fine out here." Slowly she laid down. "Besides, I like being beneath all the stars. If I count them, it will help me sleep." She laced her fingers over her stomach. She hadn't been without a headache for nearly two days. She could only hope the swelling would go down soon. Seeing out of her right eye had not been that easy as her cheekbone bulged outward.

Basil was still hesitant, his boot crunching through the grass he shifted his weight. "If you change your mind, let me know. The wind can get pretty chilly at night and you don't have fur."

"Basil, I'll be fine," Garnet insisted, turning her head on the pillow. Her onyx hair rumpled beneath her.

He watched the damaged young woman for a moment before he sighed. "Okay, if you insist. Just holler if you need anything, okay? I'm a pretty light sleeper. Not Mathilda, though. She's out like a lamp when you finally get her to lay down and stay still."

"Well, she certainly needs her rest," Garnet smiled, looking back to the sky. "Good night, Basil."

"Good night, Dagger."

She listened to the shifting of the tarp of his tent as he headed off to bed. Garnet shifted her shoulders against the dewy grass, her dark eyes scanning the sky. She remembered years ago when she was doing exactly that. When they were on their journey, there were many nights she was resigned to staring at the sky with a knotted stomach. Even with all her inner ruminations and fears of the unknown future, Garnet felt comforted in that moment to be feeling those same emotions from all those years ago. It was like she was rediscovering a piece of herself she thought had been lost forever. Again, she wondered if Zidane was beneath the stars as she was. She shifted her head to look at the low burning coals, feeling a drowsy spell come over her. Garnet was able to slip away into sleep.

Shallow pants filled her ears. Garnet realized she was on a tree branch, suspended feet in the air. She couldn't control a thing, though, as her eyes darted about. Her eyes crossed over a hand planted against the tree trunk. There was the sound of feet crunching on the ground. Garnet felt her body tilt forward, catching sight of a dark looming figure below. Quickly, she straightened her back, pressing it against the rough bark of the tree. In front of her were a pair of boots that she did not recognize.

CRACK!

Her stomach was in her throat in the next moment as she found herself falling. She banged against several other branches on the way down before falling flat on her belly on the ground. The hands in front of her uselessly grabbed at the grass as she tried to find her bearings in the body she had no control over. She lifted her eyes to see a soldier clad in Knights of Pluto armor, a slanted shadow from the helmet obscuring the face. He lifted his sword.

Garnet jolted awake, her nostrils flared as propped herself up on her elbow. Dawn was just beginning to break through the twilight sky. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she pressed her hand to her sweaty collarbone. She sat up and hugged herself. Just a sick, twisted nightmare, she told herself. If Alexandria ever found her, they'd drag her back, kicking and screaming. Lightly, she touched her swollen cheek and grazed the stitches on her forehead. Garnet glanced around the clearing at the dark trees. What if the dream was trying to tell her something? She was only miles from Alexandria, practically in their backyard. Garnet walked herself down to the river and dropped to her knees on the bank. Her hands were shaking as she splashed her face. Garnet let out a long sigh, holding her eyes closed as she rubbed the back of her neck, the cool water dribbling down her sticky back. She then blinked rapidly and looked up the river at Phoenix Cliff. Water droplets slid down her face as she only found herself staring. She had to get away, she knew that. There needed to be more and more ever growing distance between her and Alexandria.

Had anyone ever successfully outrun their nightmares and demons? Could destiny ever be swayed? Garnet could only hope as she slowly pulled herself to her feet, her eyes glued to Phoenix Cliff as if it were her greatest enemy. She peeled herself away from the bank of the river and pushed through the brush. She emerged into the clearing to see Mathilda stoking the fire. The little girl looked up with her bright eyes.

"Good morning, Dagger! How'd you sleep?"