"Death is not the worst that can happen to men." Plato.

Mogwai - Now You're Taken

...

Man's filth. Man's refuse is found in its remains.

The stench of men fills every street in town. That's why I prefer the country, it's evergreen grass. A breath of fresh air everytime I come back home.

— Dad! – At home, someone waits for me. Heather is so happy that I'm back home...

— Hi, Heather. – I said in the most wearisome way, as if someone took the soul out of my body and crushed it and all that's left is the orange's pomace. I am tired as hell. Hard to tell it's night without a moon, or any stars.

— Aunt Frigg! – Well, haven't you noticed a few stars shining below?

— Aunt?

— Don't worry. She calls everyone like that. – Heather seems a bit agitated, jumping and raising her tiny hands at me. What's with her? – Uh, what are you doing, dear? Do you wanna pee?

— Sir Fratley... we already got past that age. – Now Heather is serious, frowning mad at me. Somehow, I know she's frowning under the crimson hood and the shadows engulfing her face. That familiar face.

— Don't you see? She wants you to hold her up. – Frigg said. Oh well...

— Hold you up? No, sweet. I can't. Dad's tired.

— That spear at your back is heavier than me. No excuse!

— No effort, whatsoever. – Frigg holded Heather in my place. She's mad at me too. – Still wearing this hood, little?

— Still wearing makeup, Aunt?

— Heh... I can count with you on anything, Frigg. – They both frowned at me as I shrugged. The ironic frown, as I get inside home rushing to the kitchen. Again, how did I notice Heather frowning inside that hood? Funny, I think I've developed a sixth sense for these things. Not that I ever saw her face since birth, but... I am tired, and hungry as well. Threw my hat at the stand and hanged my spear at the wall, but I think it fell on the floor. Both of them.

— Good afternoon, Fratley. – Shannon is in the kitchen.

— Good afternoon. – I take a seat in the chair. Why's there so many chairs in the kitchen? So many forks and knives... Heather is an only daughter, no siblings at all. Less trouble for Shannon, but it feels empty here. A normal Burmecian family has like, five kids roaming around, yelling and making a mess. Normal... please, Heather is a normal child, don't go with what others say.

— Just warming this tea I made a while ago before I left. Want a bit? – Asked Shannon, offering me a cup of tea. I'll let that pass.

— No, thanks. Did you take care of Heather?

— I took care of her as if she was my own child. We even prepared tea together.

— I see. – Now that you've mentioned it, I might wanna prove some. – How are you doing? I forgot to ask.

— I am fine. – Shannon serves me a bit of the tea. It's like she's saying 'you're gonna prove it'. And you're gonna like it.

— Good to know. – I'm willing to prove anything made by heart. – My... is that chamomile?

— Yes, it is.

— It's so good. Hummmm... I must admit, Heather has improved a lot with the years. Did I tell you? To make tea, Heather would just grab a random dead leaf she found on dirty ground and pour it on hot water. Oak, maple, chestnut, willow... autumn was the time I drank all kinds of tea prepared by my dear

— Really? – Shannon seems shocked. Not as much as my stomach does.

— Really. Most of the time, it had a... 'peculiar' taste. – My tongue knows better. – I was like 'what's this? That's not right'. 'What's this brown stuff?'; 'Chocolate', she said. Uh huh... but what else could I say to Heather? I would never, ever try to break her tiny heart. She was only three, could barely speak, but had a talent at making all kinds of weird things edible.

— I agree. I was supervising Heather and she did most of the stuff by herself. It's truly amazing how kids can develop skills on their own.

— Yes, it's amazing. – I said, not sharing the same enthusiasm as the cleyran maid. Something else bothers me at the moment. – Uh, did someone knocked the door while I was out?

— Nobody.

— Nobody? Any mails?

— A few letters.

— Which letters?

— I believe it's rude to eavesdrop on these, Fratley. – By the window, Frigg and Heather are playing with each other. Hide-and-seek, catch catch, cartwheels... they're having a good time. Do they ever run out of energy?

— Well, it might not be anything important. – As important as blowing raspberries was to Heather. She never liked these. And to jump rope as well. If she jumps, her feet might break the sidewalk. My, saying such awful things... While drinking such sweet tea. I forget it's chamomile, more like caramel. – Also, congratulations, Shannon.

— For what?

— I just noticed something different in you. – Other than the passion flower in head. – I mean, your belly... It's huge. No offense.

— Oh! That's what you mean.

— Welcome to parenthood. – Eventually it comes to all of us, right? So I look at Shannon and I ask... – So, are you ready?

— Yes, I'm ready to be a mom. Taking care of siblings and kids like Heather taught me a lot.

— Not all kids are like Heather, you know.

— I know. She's a curious child. Soon as I arrived by the front door, that little eagerly waited for me and she came up with a 'Whoa! It's huge! You ate a balloon?' and other questions.

— What else did Heather say?

— Well, she began to ask me a lot of questions. Like, does it hurt to give birth? I said I didn't know. What else could I say? Well, I had to. Heather had a lot of questions, and I came up with a few answers. She's bothered that the pain is too much, isn't it weird coming out as a kid?

— It ain't weird. Kids don't ask these things for morbid curiosity. They don't want details, all they want is to feel right. They hear us talk about birth as a good thing, be fruitful and multiply, but I'd say it can also be a gruesome experience. The amount of blood...

— Geez... you're scaring me. – The room became a little cold. It ain't the window.

— Sorry,. It wasn't my intent. Have you felt any side effects? I know there's a lot of these.

— No, I haven't felt anything. None of these weird cravings. I'd never eat mustard with sugar, eugh. Sounds tempting, but that's a big no-no. My feet are a bit swollen, it's kinda uncomforting, but I can handle walking around.

— I hope everything goes well. – I try to ignore all the suffering one has to go through by giving a son to this world full of orphans. No, don't say her name. Not now. – What's gonna be it's name?

— Dunno. My husband is unsure. But, if it's a boy, I'd like to call him Ivo.

— Ivo? And girl?

— Brenyn. Like, I don't know if I should go with cleyran names, or burmecian names.

— Go with what the heart tells you.

— Heather... isn't that a flower's name? – We both looked at the window. My daughter was there, and Frigg was pulling the swing. She fixed that thing so quickly, that's the benefit of being a Knight, and being so young, or just care for another at all.

— It is. Her mother's pick. – I'd say last words. Freya saw a flower vase, and had nothing else to say but – Heather...

— You can call me whenever you want, Fratley. That pretty girl doesn't deserve to be alone.

— And your own children? Who's going to take care of them? Your husband is a soldier, so he must stay out of home for a long time. Just saying I want the best for your children, and an absent father... ain't the best option. – Speaking by proper experience. I try my best to stay together of my daughter, but there'll be always something in our way that keeps us apart from each. Always...

— Who's going to take of them, you say? Me, of course. I can handle this ordeal, Fratley. – Shannoa finished her tea as she prepared to leave by the front door. I do enjoy of her company as much as my daughter does. – And when they grow, they might be friends with Heather, who knows?

— I hope so. Heather doesn't have many friends.

— Why? She's so cute. And her father is a Dragoon Knight. She must be so proud of telling it to other kids.

— If they do not run way...

— What do you mean? – I stood quiet for a while.

— ...Nothing. – Then I answered, almost in a whisper.

— I see nothing wrong with her. I never saw. Am I missing something? – Shannoa seems shocked. – Is there anything wrong with Heather's face? Because she insists on wearing that hood, even outside the rain. I tried to comb her hair, but she didn't want to remove that hood.

— Heather is a reserved girl.

— Reserved? For a reserved girl, she seems to be having quite a lot of fun. – Through the window, 'Aunt Frigg' and Heather are blowing dandelion seeds. Frigg chokes with one seed at throat as Heather chuckles, more than usual.

— You know... She has self-esteem issues.

— Uh huh. – My words do not convince what Shannoa sees with her eyes. – Tell me, what's with Heather? Is she ashamed of her freckles?

— Freckles? No, that's not the issue.

— Issue? There's nothing wrong with her. – She must not have noticed those horrendous feet.

— Tell it to the folks who call her a freak, a hybrid, mutant, abomination...

— What? You can't be serious. – Now, Shannoa is truly shocked. She looks at me with inquisitive eyes, but speaks with a clarifying tone. – If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're projecting your own fears onto Heather.

— Maybe I am. Look, I'm not here all the time. As a Dragoon, I have millions to worry about, and Heather...

— Worry about one person at a time, and you'll see what a blessing it is. Goodbye, Fratley.

— Farewell. – Shannon leaves at the front door, waving to Heather outside, as I stand here, with my bleeding toes.

...

After a while, I check every letter I've received.

''Dear Fratley,

Thanks for being the best Dragoon Knight ever! Burmecia would not be the same without you. Please don't leave! You are my hero. You helped dad, and had it not been for you, my dad would not meet my mom and I would not be born and love them both.

Love, Christine.''

''Dear Fratley,

Thank you for always being there for me. I also love the food you cook for us... no, wait, that's mom's, love you too. You'll think I'm silly, but I tried to jump rope a thousand times in a single row. Guess I will never get the King of Jump Rope badge, but whatever. At least I tried, because I believe I can jump as high as a Dragoon! Like you say, let fear jump you forward, or was it poprel, prolpe... sorry, asked dad and he said it was propel. Wish pens had erasers.

Hugs, Daniel.''

''Dear Sir Fratley,

I like you a lot, a real lot. Because of you I believe I can be a Dragoon just like you, you are awesome! No really when I grow up I want to be a Dragoon. They are amazing. I don't know how to jump rope but if I was a Dragoon I would jump higher and higher and higher... I do not know, I am afraid of heights too. No more fear until I become a Dragoon!

Best regards, James.''

''Dear Sir Fratley,

We never crossed paths, but these days I saw you flying high to the skies to fight against some dragons. You cut their teeth and you sliced their wings and you punched them right in the face and POW! You defeated them. That was so cool! I wish I could be just like you. Nobody tells you what you can or can not do, you are my hero and you are free.

With love, Jack.''

''Dear Sir Fratley,

Me and my family went to the desert and dad showed me a trunk. He said that huge, huge trunk used to be Cleyra and people lived there on that tree. I always want a treehouse and a brother. I asked mom if she could bring me brother and she said no. I think my mom is great. She is nice to me, she takes me to places, she teaches me new things and she tucks me every night before sleep. She is awesome. You too!

Thank you, Michael.

P.S I am still learning how to use commas. Thanks dad!''

''Dear Fratley,

I wanted to write a letter to Freya but I could not find her address. Mom said she is in Heaven. I asked her where Heaven is and mom said it is located beyond the clouds. Freya was my favorite, I liked her. Not that I like you too. Say hi to my dog, Gus! He's the best dog in the world. Daddy found Gus on the streets and brought him home and asked me to name that dog, and I called him Gus. Isn't he adorable?

So, Heather is your daughter? I see. I am sorry if I was mean to her. I thought it was fun because everyone poked fun at her ''elephant feet'' but my mother said it was not fun. Really sorry. Really shattered my heart. Heather is a funny girl. When they bullied her, she said ''He's got eyeballs. And if he's a boy, that's not the only soft spot!'', hehe, that was worthy of a good laugh. Tell her I'm sorry, we want to be friends.

Hugs, Elly.''

... Sob. I feel like a children's book author, being admired by all.

Other than that, nothing else. I'm not in debt with anyone. I have enough to pay, enough to afford Heather's future, but not enough to give it to everyone.

Money is like soap, slips from one hand to another, it ain't clean and, well, not everyone can borrow a lavender soap. Funny how you own nothing. Even the house you live at, a place where you eat and sleep, ain't really yours. It belongs to the State that can kick you out at any moment. They have the right, the power, power makes right.

I've spent an entire afternoon reading letters, as Frigg and Heather spent time with each other. Now they're laying on the grass, watching the clouds, unconcerned about life and its troubles. Yet, I feel they're enjoying it better than I do.

...

Fear. It's the most basic, the most human emotion. As kids, we're afraid of everything.

When we are children, we are afraid of so many things. We are afraid of the dark. Afraid of the boogeyman. Afraid of sharp objects.

We pray every night for dawn to come so the monsters can go away.

But, there are monsters that do not go away. Not that easily.

There are monsters who live outside the dark, who grow with us... instead of fearing legends, myths, we fear things that can't be explained. When I look at Heather, I know there's something different, something I can't explain, like how butterflies live under the rain.

— ...A herd of butterflies is called a 'kaleidoscope'. A herd of moths is called 'eclipse'. – I explain these things, and more, to the little. It's already rare to see butterflies in the rain, just a single drop of rain is enough to break their wings.

— Eclipse? Like the moon?

— Yes. The moon, up there. – I point to the skies. It's like pointing at the curtain instead of what lies outside the window.

— Have you seen the moon, Aunt?

— Oh, yes. My family lives in Lindblum. They see the sun and moon.

— Lindblum? Ain't that far away?

— It is. A long journey so I can find the folks. – And the butterflies.

— Why don't they live here, Aunt?

— Well, my dear... lots of reasons. I already told you about the sun and the moon. And, in spite of what happened...

— What happened? – Do I have to tell her? I don't want this girl to have any nightmares. Poor thing lost its mom. People look down on her as if she was a monster. Heather is hungry, indeed, but for knowledge. She wants to know everything, and I really appreciate it.

— War. It happened, so sudden. So many people laying on the streets, not moving at all, still breathing, left behind, some already dead. – To think about that carnage brought by Alexandria's army sends me shivers even to this day. – You understand, do you?

— I do. – Heather holds my hand. That tiny, little claw...

— No. There's nothing to understand about war, child. Only thing I know about war is that it feels like a thing so common within us, that when it happens, we are not surprised at all.

— ...Aunt, I'm hungry. – Talk about suddenly.

— Me too. what do you have in the kitchen for us?

— Looks so dark there. – My... has not Sir Fratley lit any lights? – Father! Hey!... he doesn't hear me.

— A man trapped in his own darkness... How sad.

— Indeed. – Even sadder is knowing he trapped his own daughter in darkness as well.

…

— ...My pub is full of thoughtful men. – Said the pub's owner, serving sour drinks in a place not quite anything else. Lindblum's finest pub. A place where smoke is stale, the laughter with a kind of despair in it, and the beer...

Awful. Very awful. It's when you stop to think about its taste that it feels awful like that. I don't want to think anymore, I... I just.. just want to, well, drink. Ain't much of a challenge. It's all I want, don't need to think. A need I grew with. Is it me, or artists tend to like old bones and skulls? I'm no artist to tell these decorations look ugly in many ways. Maybe it's a sign. Yer dead. Drink and yer dead... talkin' like that, you deserve to. I got a letter from my old partner in crime, Lani. She's been doing well in exile. No more kills, no more beers, moogles are her best friends. I wish I had a friend as a Moogle. I wish the whole world hadn't betrayed me. I... I wish... it's all I want...

Crap. I'm dizzy. I hate this. Gravity, I hate you. Fell outta chair, isn't that fun? I hear no laughs, better stay like that. Or else... yeah, what would I do, laying here? Nobody comes to help me. I helped everyone, and no one cares. No one... here's some advice. I'll tell ya, get up by yourself. Nobody's gonna help you out. You're alone. Alone... that's why I'm here, right? I'm not alone. Everyone comes here to feel they are here, and not be. Be something, eh... yeah, something. God, my head. It's about to explode. I hit my head. Wish I had protection, like a helmet, other than my skull.

...Enough. Look at your state. You're awful. What would she think of you? I wonder... A lady taught me that a man, no matter how small, could fight evil. Challenge evil, and live by such challenges. There's a problem... I'm embracing evil, how can I fight against it? The very thing I'm tied to. Thing is, I never fought for the sake of good. It's just that the other side is full of bad dudes, that's it. Know that your self-indulgent cries after she died mean nothing. You're nothing. A shrunken flash of color. A small bit of grit, floating dust. A nothing.

Kuja, Necron, Hades, Tiamat, a house full of cats... when did things got so absurd? Why is this world like this? Things are absurd ever since the day you were born blue. Yeah, I was born blue, became a mercenary, loved a rat girl, and out of our love... a child was born. A monster. Why do I care? What if I left, like I did before? Wouldn't all these problems be worked out without me? Why am I here surrounded by problems I don't care about? Where's my compassion? Where's my love? I think it died… together of Freya.

— You know, sometimes it's so odd running this place. Strangers come and go, enjoy a drink, pay and then leave at the very door they came in. These are lives that barely touch.

— ...Lives that barely touch – I said, before leaving.