Standing just outside the moat of Alexandria castle was a young woman, frail and quiet in temperament, yet with a definite power lurking inside her body that few other people could possibly understand. This woman had the power to shift the very tide of war itself--she could bend and twist fate to her own liking, could peek into the forbidden future, and could foretell events yet to pass. As she stood there, in the field of grass that surrounded Alexandria kingdom, she kept her eyes closed and listened to the wind blowing against her body.

The long golden hair that flowed past her shoulders was tickled and tossed in the gentle wind, giving off the faint impression of a sea of liquid gold. The girl spread her arms out slightly to touch the gusts of wind flowing past her body, and breathed in the scent that it carried with it. The smell of blood was only faint in this breeze; it ushered in peace, and tranquility, and adventure, and great deeds. This wind was not violent; it stirred men’s hearts into bravery, and women’s souls to wonder, and it made countries great.

The woman, wearing a green robe tied with a sash, allowed the wind to play with her body as she breathed in the scent. Her eyes may have been dead, yet she would not need them to absorb such a simple pleasure. A faint chill, just a faint one, was hidden in this gust, just enough to indicate that autumn would be coming along shortly. The woman felt the chill but kept her bare arms spread out, and despite such burdens on her shoulders, she smiled.

“…My lady?” came a voice from behind her. The young woman turned around and smiled as she recognized it to be her aide. “…My lady, we are ready to go whenever you are,” he told her. She nodded her head.

“All right. I was just taking a few moments for myself. It had been very chaotic in these past few weeks, hasn’t it?”

“Very, milady,” answered her aide. “Now, if you’re ready…?”

“Yes, of course,” she said with a smile. “So sorry to keep you waiting.” The woman followed her aide for awhile, but paused suddenly as if a hidden force was keeping her back. She turned her head to look back at the field she had been standing in, towards the distant mountains and breeze…

“Is there something wrong, milady?” asked her aide. A silent pause followed.

“…No… I just felt something, that’s all…”

“A premonition?” Another pause.

“You could say that. I… I feel that there’s going to be great trials in store for the people of this kingdom. Two people in particular stand out to me as those who are destined to suffer the most from the upcoming crucible.”

“Really? Who?” Another pause. The lady concentrated on her feeling, but lost it as the winds carried it away into the atmosphere.

“…I shouldn’t say,” she replied. “Besides, the future is unclear. Even my powers are not completely certain. In any case, we’re going to be late if we don’t move.”

“…Right,” said her aide with a smile. “This way, milady.” He took her hand into his own, and led the blind girl towards the airship docks, where she would board one of the many vessels and head towards her next destination. As she walked into the docks, a prayer escaped her lips, and was sent flying with the passing wind.

The girl was never seen in Alexandria again.

-----

-----

The young blind woman, Cassandra, held on tight as the vessel she was on lifted up high into the air. She, too, had a role to play in this big conquest, although it might not have involved any actual fighting. No, hers was a different role--the kind that a person would eventually take after all the fighting ended, and when peace descended on the land again, and it was time once again to rebuild. It was going to be up to her to make peace, and to restore the grieving land, and to heal those hurt.

But for one fleeting moment, she would’ve given anything to be down there with them.

--------------------

“Knights of Pluto!!! ASSEMBLE!!!!!!”

Nothing.

“Confound it!!!!” cursed Steiner. “Not again!! What could possibly be the problem NOW??!?!” Muttering angrily to himself, mostly about how “it had better not be another one of their ridiculous excuses”, Steiner marched down the stairs and peeked into the Knight’s room. To his mild surprise, the place was empty (save for the Moogle that hung out there), so he closed the door, rubbed his chin, and thought of where else his ignoble men could be.

“Those scoundrels!” he barked. “How dare they do this to me! They were there at the rally just like I was! They heard their Majesties’ declaration! They should have already been prepared! Now we’re going to be late again!!!”

“Something the matter?” came a familiar voice from down the hall. Steiner turned around to see a slightly-amused Freya walking towards him. In response to her dumb question, the armored man leaped up and down like an angry frog.

“YES, something’s the matter!” he snapped. “My blasted soldiers haven’t come by yet! And after I told them to be prepared and everything! The sheer audacity of those ingrates! I ought to expel every single one of them from the knighthood!”

“Then, where would you be?” she asked. “If the Knights of Pluto are disbanded, wouldn’t you be out of a job?”

“I--” Steiner’s words got caught in his throat, and refused to come out no matter how hard he tried. The knight grumbled, but knew that Freya was right. Unless he wanted to be a one-man company, Steiner would have to keep his lackeys, for better or for worse.

“…I see your point,” he sighed. “But… those nimrods have really outdone themselves this time! They could have at least tried to come out when I called!” Freya, whose amusement had fallen when she saw just how serious Steiner was, decided to play the supportive friend and loaned him her thoughts.

“Hmm… is there any way I might be able to help you?”

“Not unless you know where those fools are,” mumbled Steiner as he hung his head. Freya shrugged apologetically.

“Sorry. I’ll ask around for them, though.” Steiner let out a gusty sigh, and mumbled out his thanks to the dragoon as she left him. He honestly didn’t know what he was going to do with those bumbling fools of his. He couldn’t fire them, yet he hated the way they were always tardy like this, or when they goofed off, or didn’t take their work seriously. And Steiner had been assigned to investigate Conde Petie for clues concerning Iudicium’s whereabouts! He HAD to have his men!!

“…Confound it!” he cursed again. “I ought to ring their necks for this…”

“Steiner? Steiner, are you there?” Steiner stood up straight and made sure he didn’t look so morose, for he had heard Beatrix calling his name. With a sigh, he called out to her.

“Yes, I am here.” Beatrix could soon be seen filing inside the room--with all eight of the Knights of Pluto behind you.

“There you are, Captain!” shouted Blutzen. “We’ve been looking for you!”

“You’ve been looking for me?!” he blurted. “I’ve been looking for YOU!! Where the devil have you clowns been?!” All eight of the knights moaned and hung their heads in shame, but only Weimar stepped forward.

“We’re awfully sorry to worry you like that, Captain,” he said. “But we really have a good reason this time, honest!!”

“One that does not involve piece’a, girlfriends, cookies, socks, cockroaches, oil slicks, shaved moogles, toilet paper, or a lack of clothing??”

“Urrrk, no,” they moaned, surprised that he had remembered each and every one of the earlier incidents. “It’s really legitimate this time, really it is!” Steiner gave his knights a suspicious look, but they all insisted innocence.

“Just listen to them, Steiner,” insisted Beatrix. He sighed and agreed to her terms.

“All right. What’s this marvelous reason of yours?” Smiling meekly, the knights stepped forward and thrust a box into Steiner’s arms. Quizzically, he looked from the box and to his knights again, not knowing what was going on.

“Eh? What’s this?”

“It’s your birthday present!” exclaimed Mullenkedheim. “You didn’t think that your own Knights of Pluto would forget your birthday present, did you?!” Steiner suddenly jerked back in surprise, and instantly felt his anger and his pride shrink down into microscopic proportions. He felt embarrassed enough to crawl into a sewer and die. They had remembered his birthday! They had actually remembered!

“You mean, all this time, you’ve been out getting me a present?!” he shrieked. The men nodded their heads.

“Yeah,” said Laudo. “I mean, you’re our Captain! No matter how much you rag on us, we’re always gonna think that you’re Number One!” Steiner smiled brilliantly, and nearly broke out in tears, he was so overcome with emotion. These men had given up time and money to buy him a present, and here he was, yelling and threatening them like a drill sergeant!

“…Ach, I don’t deserve this!” moaned Steiner. “You guys are too good to me! Please, take it back! I don’t deserve the honor!”

“Please, Captain?” begged Kohel. “It’d mean a lot to us if you took it!” Steiner sighed, thanked his men, and opened the box. Inside was a small little something from each of the men: a recipe for gysahl pickle soup, polish for his armor, his favorite book, an excellent flint for his sword, some nice clothes, a strong fishing rod, and a bottle of champagne.

“This is… too much,” wept Steiner as he beheld his gifts. “…I love you guys!” The big goof bawled, and apologized for getting angry at his men. Blushing faintly, Beatrix stepped forward, and made note that the champagne had not been the Knights’ idea, but hers. Steiner, poor loveable Steiner, regarded her with…… “interest”.

“…Eh? You bought this?”

“Well, ah, I mean, because you got me something so nice for my birthday!” managed Beatrix with a weak smile. Steiner gazed at her coolly, and lifted the bottle up. It was a very nice, very old, and very expensive brand, the type that could only be found in Esto Gaza those days.

“Thank you,” whispered Steiner gently. “…I, ah… well, uh, I, uh… hope to, uh…… put it to good use…”

“Captain!” whistled Dojebon. “You dog!!!!” The Knights of Pluto cheered Steiner on, leaving him and Beatrix red as cherries, and would have egged the two on forever if their Captain hadn’t shut them up.

“…Ahem! Attention!!!!” The soldiers quickly snapped to attention, leaving Steiner to cough and clear his throat. “…………What I have said today… is to never leave this room, understand?!”

“Yes, SIR!!!”

“Good! Now, move out, you dogs!!” Steiner ran forth towards the airship docks, with his knights filing close behind, smiling impishly as they all passed Beatrix.

“It’s good to hear Captain Steiner yelling at us again!” smiled Haagen.

“Good luck!” said Breiricht. “Hehehe, and go easy on the champagne!”

“I’m going to forget that I heard that, soldier!” snapped Beatrix angrily. “Now get moving, or else I’ll have to discipline you!!”

“Yikes! W-wait for us, C-Captain!!!”

Beatrix sighed, the matter of Steiner’s birthday and the Knights’ gifts slowly fading from her system. The scenario was funny and touching at the same time, but now was a time for war. Beatrix had a job to do, a mission to perform, a vow to uphold, and she would perform to the best of her abilities, as she always had in the past. And so, she made sure that she was prepared before going to the Red Rose.

The Rose was going to Esto Gaza, the land of snow and ice. Beatrix didn’t have a problem with this--she had packed warm clothes for herself, and would definitely be wearing them as she explored the distant northern regions. She didn’t expect to find anything in a place so cold as Esto Gaza, but then again, nobody save Cassandra knew where Iudicium’s base was, and the young girl had just left the other day. Nobody could understand why she didn’t tell Garnet or Zidane where to send their troops, not even her own aide.

Then again, the future was not something that people should know. Besides, the girl’s powers were never 100% perfect, and in fact, she could have had the wrong information. Best not to chance it, she had said. But, even then, it was plain to see that there was a secret the girl was keeping, a secret that could help or hinder the lives of thousands of people.

Oh well.

One thing in particular was somewhat unsettling to Beatrix. She had hoped that Queen Garnet would send Freya along with her, so the two could fight side-by-side, as it was meant to be. But no, the noble dragoon was on the Hilda Guarde 4, which was going straight for the Outer Continent. Freya was assigned the task of keeping watch over Madain Sari, along with Eiko and the Vivi army; Steiner’s crew was going to Conde Petie, while Quban and Quina would alert Qu marshes all over the world. The black mage village would be watched over by Makoto; Amarant’s crew and Tantalus would be split between Daguerro and Oeilvert.

Beatrix could wish for eternity, yet the decision of the King and Queen was final. She could adapt to the change, as she had so many times in the future, though it would be a little depressing to be away from Freya for so long. Even after all this time, Beatrix still felt like she was just now getting to know her childhood friend, and the same was expressed by the dragoon. It was obvious that the two made a brilliant pair, and to separate them might lead to disaster.

…I really should stop being such a baby about it, sighed Beatrix as she wiped the hair from her eyes. It’s only going to be a month-long campaign. We’re just going to split up and scour the whole world for Iudicium’s base. It’s not going to take that long. I can certainly be without her for a short period of time. After all, we’ve been separated all our lives; what more will a month do?

“Freya… you sure have been a big influence on me,” sighed Beatrix to herself as she made her way to the Red Rose. “Hahaha… I honestly feel like you’re my little sister… and that this division we’re all going through is affecting us the most. …Blast. This does not become a General.”

I’ll punch her for this, muttered Beatrix. I will seriously punch her for this. …Right after I give her a hug. I’ll definitely want to hug her when we meet again. Well, until then, my friend. I only hope you know how much joy you’ve brought into my world…

“I hope you know how much joy you’ve brought into my world…”

“What’s that?” asked Eiko as she ran up to Freya. The dragoon shook her head free of stray thoughts and gazed down at the young summoner.

“Nothing,” she said. “I was just… thinking about somebody very close to me.”

“I’ll betcha it’s that Fratley guy!” smiled Eiko innocently. At the mention of her lost love, a stab of pain struck Freya’s heart… but such a heart was also strong, and had suffered more powerful blows in the past.

“…Not really,” she admitted. “Hahaha… you know, for once, that man’s not been in my thoughts… hahaha…”

“Eh? What’s so funny?” asked Eiko. Freya shook her head and knelt down to the child’s level.

“I’ll tell you later,” she smiled. “For now, I’d like to hear more about Madain Sari. I wasn’t part of Zidane’s little entourage when he visited that area, so I want to know as much as I can. I heard that Lani made that place her home before she moved in with Baku and the others.”

“Yeah, I saw her from time to time,” said Eiko. “Boy, she sure has changed! But, I guess we’ve all went through a little change in the past few years, haven’t we?”

“You have no idea…”

“Huh? Did you say something?” A pause. Freya smiled at the summoner and ruffled her hair.

“You’re a good young lady, Eiko. I fancy you’ll make one man very happy in the future.”

“Just one?” squealed the summoner. Freya chuckled heartily at the child’s spunk.

“…Well… you never know… If you grow and mature, perhaps you will have your own entourage of gentleman callers following you around! …But, anyway, let us move on. We all have so much to do, and I want to get started as quickly as possible.”

“Right! I guess I’ll seeya on the ship!” Eiko smiled and waved at Freya, then scurried away to board the Hilda. Freya stood up, stretched, sighed, and smiled.

“Fratley… my heart is so glad now. My spirit soars into the sky, and boundless joy runs as a substitute for my blood. You have made me happy, for whatever brief moments we had, and now… now… Yes, dear, I am still happy, even without you… So, just consider how I would feel if, by some sudden chance, I happened to join you.” Smiling to herself, Freya inhaled a deep breath of purifying air, and removed her hat. Kneeling down on the floor, she chanted an old Burmecian prayer, holding her spear straight before her as she prepared herself for the fight of her life.

Finally, she was prepared. Freya Crescent donned her hat again, and tied a ribbon onto her tail--no, two ribbons. One was from Fratley, given to her as an engagement proposal, and the other was from Beatrix, as a sign of their bond. They had no special powers or properties, but still, a definite feeling of strength emanated from them. Taking in another breath, Freya shouldered her spear and boarded the Hilda Guarde 4. Slowly, slowly, the ship ascended into the skies, and puttered off towards the horizon, into the Valley of the Shadow of Death.

“Well,” sighed Commander Erin as she steered the vessel, “here we go again!”

--------------------

The universe was deep and dark and cold and lonely. It consisted of great, deep, dark gashes of emptiness, a void filled with nothing but empty matter and desolate darkness. It was large and great, this universe, though for the most part, it was completely void of anything at all. Only in the tiniest of all spaces was there really anything worthy to look at.

Plumbing deeper into the universe reveals the emptiness to be false. Millions upon billions of spots of light blind the senses as celestial travelers race across the infinite void. There are quasars, clusters, and the great galaxies that hold the brightest light of them all. Some spiral around like tops, others pulsate like random waves of electricity, still others defy all reason and simply exist for the sake of existing.

Deeper still into these galaxies are systems of planets that revolve around hot spheres of gaseous fire and scorching-hot plasma. Trillions of these planets could exist in the universe itself; indeed, the numbers of worlds and systems in this certain galaxy cannot be calculated. The sheer size and magnitude of everything is overwhelming; at best, to contemplate it all would mean mental meltdown.

Further still, as if driven by madness, there can be discovered small worlds being hurtled around the sun like a sling. These planets come in unlimited sizes, and unlimited colors, some defying definitions held for countless seconds. Only a select few of them might be placed so fortunately in the grand scheme of things that they may bear life; one in particular catches the eye.

Further still, into this habitable planet, there are continents, home to dozens of individual countries that form alliances and stab backs and wage wars and give peace without ever realizing that they are but dust in the universe. Further still, one country out of many is examined, and even here there are divisions; buildings and territorial boundaries stand out as if nothing else is more important, while the universe lives on coldly.

Diving in further, one building stands out more than others. Even here, there are distinctions--it is as if there is some ghastly pattern that is being followed, and from universe to common rooms of a building, that pattern has persisted since. In the darkness of chaos and the light of simple electrical bulbs, buildings are divided into rooms and one room out of so many trillions of rooms from so many trillions of worlds is sorted out.

From universe to quasar to cluster to galaxy to system to planet to continent to country to district to building to room, a journey has subtly been made, and now that the journey to the individual room has been completed, it is now time to learn why this particular room out of so many others is different. There is a reason, but in a very small way, it is not different at all. Perhaps in another universe, this very same scenario is happening, possibly even at the same time, though the two are separated forever.

Freya Aphrodite Crescent was taking that very moment, that very moment in time and space, to think about things. Her thoughts were on all three of the spectrums of time--the past, present, and future--and every one of these periods proved to be a good source of thought. It was by the past which Freya learned from, the present which she lived for, and the future that she prepared for. It was this, this single Burmecian-turned-Alexandrian entity, this dragoon known as Freya, who stood poised on the brink of history and spent such a period in thought, even as she stood poised on a completely different brink, that of the Hilda Guarde 4’s port side.

As the airship lifted up, Freya’s thoughts drifted from past to present and into the future, but became more and more random as the vessel lifted off of the ground. Her immediate concerns were with the present, of course. Little was going on there except for the launching of the Hilda. For this moment in history, Freya needed only to prepare herself for liftoff, and make sure she could handle the sudden thrust.

The past had ways of sneaking up on her, but she allowed such an intrusion. Even after all this time, she still found it rather difficult to believe that it had only been a year or two ago when she and Beatrix were still considered enemies. Had it only been that long ago? It seemed that a lifetime had passed her by since those dark days--a lifetime, and more scars than she dared to count. The mere thought of being enemies with Beatrix now was sickening.

Of course, it had not always been like that. The two warrior-women, as unbelievable as it sounded, really were once bitter enemies. Beatrix had invaded both Burmecia and Cleyra, and assisted in slaughtering the innocent population for crimes unknown. Like a thief, she had stolen the Cleyran’s crystal and left the town up to Brahne’s destructive desires. It was true that Beatrix partially redeemed herself later on, and the redemption had become complete when she stormed into the occupied city of rain and freed it single-handedly, but there had still been a great enmity between the knight and the dragoon.

But over the course of time, events and scenarios caused the two enemies to bond together in ways they never considered. Madness, death, desperation, and horror forced the two enemies to befriend each other, and together they would huddle until the storm passed. But oh, it had been worth it! It had been worth every single moment, every painful moment, and more so, a thousand times over! Because of their willingness to bond, Freya and Beatrix unearthed a long-kept secret, and discovered their true heritage--not as enemies, but as sweet and innocent childhood friends, who had been driven away by the very things that would one day bring them back together again.

It was the stuff myths were made of, but all of this was very real to Freya. Oh, how much time had passed her by since those dark days!! Had it really been that long ago when she had contemplated suicide, only to be saved by the very woman she “hated” most of all? Had it been so long ago when they were not friendly to each other? Had it been that long……?

Freya smiled to herself. It really was unbelievable.

Now, though, there was a future to consider. And as dark as the past had been, it was but a shadow compared to the nightmare that awaited the two warriors. For though they had seen strife and trouble “back then”, it really was nothing next to what was going on now. The good King and Queen of Alexandria, after reeling from the worst attack on the kingdom in eons--possibly ever--had just recently declared war on the very foes that had recently laid siege to the kingdom. They launched a full-scale attack, an all-out offensive against the single foe that had caused them such misery for so long.

The forces of Alexandria, since they had no idea where to start looking, had been split up into several groups, and had been dispatched all throughout the world. Some went to Daguerro, others Oeilvert, others Ipsen’s Castle, still others would go to the unnamed islands and small patches of land that rested out beyond the boundaries of the Mist Continent (somebody really needed to rename that place). A large part of the Alexandrian force would even scour the continent itself, for there was a strong possibility that such a foe existed right next door.

Freya was part of the small convoy that had been dispatched to the Outer Continent. Along with Eiko, Mikoto, and a few others, she would scour the large northern land in search of any clues of Iudicium’s whereabouts. Madain Sari, the Black Mage Village, Conde Petie, the sunken Desert Temple… anyplace could have been the hideout of their detestable foe. Freya was at least grateful that she had been assigned to a reasonably warm place; poor Beatrix had to go to Esto Gaza. Freya almost chuckled at her dear friend’s predicament, but in war, laughter was a rare luxury.

Taking a deep sigh, Freya breathed in the fresh air of the outside world as the Hilda Guarde 4 took to the skies. The increasing whir of the airship, followed by the sudden rush of air and the scent of lubrication and machines, gave Freya a stirring feeling inside her body. It was weaker than adrenaline, but even Eiko could tell that the older lady was psyched up for a fight. Still, the airship had a long way to go before she arrived at Eiko’s home.

“Are you really ready for this?” asked the small summoner. Freya, who had been lost in her own world ever since the beginning of the flight, finally snapped free from her daze and glanced down at Eiko. She smiled warmly, which was becoming easier and easier to do, and placed her furry hand on the girl’s head.

“I detest war,” she said in a slightly-philosophizing tone. “It takes away everything you love and perhaps even your own self. Yet there are rare times that I feel more alive and excited than in the heat of battle. My dear lady summoner, I do abhor what is happening now, but the very essence of fighting--pitting one’s lifelong skills against another opponent--this, Ah, is what I live for! …So to answer your question, yes.”

Poor Eiko gave Freya a confused look.

“Uhh… gee, I was just wondering…”

“I apologize,” chuckled the taller woman. “I do sometimes go off into a nonsensical tirade of personal feelings every once in awhile. Perhaps this very moment in time has caused me to reflect on things, more so than I usually do.”

“Yeah, you’re just like a big mirror,” replied Eiko. “You’re always reflecting on something. But mirrors also show us what our own selves look like.” Freya smiled wryly at Eiko’s wisdom and regarded the child with a cool stare.

“Seems I’m not the only one who has words of wisdom to say.”

“Oh, stop it!” chuckled the child. “That was just some strange writing I read in a play once. You know I could never make any of that stuff up myself!” Freya smiled at Eiko’s childish ways, but had to admit that the girl could be awfully mature when she wanted to. She… fondly remembered just how “mature” Eiko was back in the days where Garnet was still a Princess and Zidane still a thief. To see the flirtatious boy get a taste of his own medicine was truly a sight, and worth every chuckle that Freya spent.

“Anyway,” resumed Eiko after a pause, “I don’t know you that well, but I wanna wish you good luck. Freya, I haven’t seen the terrors of war like you have--”

“Not that you should,” interrupted the dragoon. Eiko nodded her head and agreed.

“Right. I don’t want to see the true face of war, but it looks like I’ll have to. Garnet and I are the only summoners in the whole world, unless she has a baby. Oh, you think Garnet will be expecting a child anytime soon?”

“(With the way Zidane is, I’m surprised she doesn’t have a few already),” muttered Freya. Eiko didn’t hear the comment and asked Freya to repeat herself; the dragoon coughed it away, said it was “nothing”, and asked if there was anything Eiko wanted of her services.

“Not really,” replied the little mage. “But hey, promise me you’ll fight well. Beatrix and the others will be sad if you come home injured… or if you don’t come home at all…”

“I do not believe the God of this world would allow me to die after everything I have seen,” said Freya flatly. “If I am granted Death, and I do not think I will just yet, I pray it is either very far away in the future, or else in the heat of a very intense battle. You do not need to worry.” Eiko nodded her head again, and excused herself from Freya’s presence. The dragoon sighed, and chastised her own self for such words.

Listen to you, she thought. You’re either starting to sound like a mother, or else an overconfident warrior--or, should I say, you’re starting to sound like Beatrix.

Freya just had to laugh out loud as she considered that.

-----

The long hours passed, and the time for laughter, reflection, and even thought itself had passed. The Hilda Guarde 4 was about to make a landing on the Outer Continent, so it was time to gear up for battle. This reality became even more grim as the pilots and crew realized that there was already a great battle scene below them. A great and glorious massacre was spread out on the beaches and fields of the continent, with the armies of darkness locked in lethal combat with the forces of good.

“My word!” exclaimed Freya. “There’s got to be thousands of them down there!”

“Do you think they’ve found Iudicium’s fortress?” asked Eiko. Freya shook her head warily.

“I don’t know… But we’d better get down there and fast. Who knows how many lives have already been lost.” Eiko nodded her head, and the two jumped ship to preemptively join the battle. Explosions of magic rocked the very ground, and the heavens thundered under the march of cavalry and infantrymen. Freya had been in battles before, but nothing like the full-scale war going on right then.

Flaunting her spear to the world, Freya merged herself into the battle, and began her chaotic struggle for existence with a single swish. The creature she struck perished instantly from such a blow, and the dragoon prepared herself to extinguish hundreds, perhaps thousands of others that shared that same beach with her. This was definitely going to be a long and hard battle, yet for all she knew, this massacre before her was just an appetizer.

Fire burned the skies with an intense glow of furious flames, scorching the world with molten-hot magma and the fury of the earth’s vomiting rage--in other words, the hounds of merciless war had been unleashed. Freya leaped into the battle and swung her spear around, cleaving an enemy in to and landing just slight of its remains. She ran forward, plowing through the hacked-up enemy, and rammed her weapon into another, and another, and another still, creating a gruesome shish-kabob to be cooked over such flames that the world produced when war was stinking up the land.

She flung these enemies aside and quickly turned around, using such fierce momentum to slice through yet another foe. Mindlessly, thinking only of the present moment, Freya continued her charge and leaped high into the air, twirling her spear around like the blades of an airship propeller. She reached back with her weapon, gathering more momentum for the attack, and flung it straight to the ground like a meteor. It whistled down to the ground and cruelly split yet another foe in twain, impaling them instantly.

The dragoon fell down, and the very instant her feet touched the ground, she yanked her spear from out of the creature’s body, twirled around, and smashed the butt end of it into an attacker that had been charging from behind. Next, she ran through the horrifying carnage like a raging bull, shoving aside anything in her way. She charged like a jousting knight, with her spear held out right in front of her, and with a sudden ferocity, she began swinging precisely to the left and right of her, swish-swish, swing-swing, cut-cut, hack-slash, here and there, to the left and right as she charged, destroying everything that was in her way, until she came to her goal.

With her speed increasing and her weapon slaying more and more as she ran, Freya began to build up strength for the final blow. In front of her there was a dragon, as big and large as a small house, and this creature had been the cause of much strife since the battle’s opening hours. Freya continued to charge it, hacking enemies everywhere her spear was thrust, until she was so close to the dragon that she could feel its body heat. With a scream, she drew her spear back and plunged it directly into the monster’s belly, thrusting it in so far that even the handle vanished.

The monster let out a scream, but Freya was not done yet. Pulling out her spear with as much ferocity as she had plunged it in, she jumped high into the air, and with a single cleave, separated the monster’s head from its neck. She landed on the ground, and knelt just long enough to take one single breath of victory. Then, it was back to business.

Lightning replaced the fire, blasting apart the heavens above the massive carnage as the intense battle raged on. There was so much blood and confusion and fighting in the air that the whole thing seemed like a dream--or perhaps, a nightmare. Freya Crescent had only the war on her mind, and no other distractions at all, not even Beatrix, not even the screams of her comrades. For all she knew, she was out there all by herself. She certainly fought like that.

After taking a brief breather, she ran back into the battle, and began picking enemies off one by one. The first foe was something like a large turtle, who was invincible whenever it hid in its shell. Freya solved this problem by ramming her spear inside the tiny opening where its head shrunk in, and the beast was no more. Her next foe was a large group of werewolves, snarling and slobbering and starving to death. They all surrounded the dragoon, fangs glistening and fires in their eyes, and tackled her all at once.

Yet Freya did not allow a single scratch or bite. With the speed of a true dragoon, she exploded into action and defended her self and her honor. One of the wolves leaped after her; she kicked it aside, leaped after it, and threw her spear in its chest. Another attacked her as her back was turned; she performed an impossible frontwards flip, turned 180 degrees in midair, landed on the ground, and readied her weapon to welcome the attacker. Three more wolves dashed after her in their mindless madness, and the woman snarled right back at them before meeting their challenge.

First of all, Freya jumped right over all three of the wolves, sailing so high that only an eagle could match her. Soaring high in the sky, Freya took careful aim, and with a powerful thrust, she flung her spear down to the ground like a thunderbolt. It missed the speedy werewolves, but Freya wasn’t aiming for them. When she plummeted back down to the ground, Freya positioned her body in a fashion that would allow her to grab her spear the very moment she landed, and use such momentum to hack apart anything in her path.

The split second her feet touched the ground, her hands slipped into the handle of the spear, and with a back-breaking twist, the woman yanked it out and slammed it against the body of one of the wolves. Immediately thereafter, she took an immense swipe at the other two, and ended their lives. Yet even then, hundreds of other enemies were surrounding her, and though Eiko’s eidolons were helping out a little, and the present forces were doing the very best they could, it still seemed like a hopeless fight.

“We’ve got to get outta here!!” screamed Eiko. “We’re way outnumbered!”

“No! We stay and fight!” yelled Freya. The woman grew feral again, and jumped into another fight with more enemies than she should have been taking on. Eiko sighed and shook her head, and summoned one more beast before exhausting herself. The ground opened up, lights began flashing, and a holy energy overtook the whole land as Maideen began its massive crusade. A shockwave of pulsating power wiped clean the land, yet the more resilient enemies merely found it a stunning blow.

“Come on!” shouted Eiko over the disaster. “If we don’t run now, we’re gonna die!! There are many more battles than this to fight!!”

“I don’t retreat until I win!” shouted Freya as she parried the attacks of an ogre. “I’ve been running away for too long now! Ever since I was born, I’ve always been on the run, never wanting to face my fears! And what does it bring me except for years of regret?! Oh no, I’m staying here! I’m not going to leave anything to regret! To me, it has now come to two options: Victory, or Death!!!” And with such a passionate speech now filling her body with the power it needed, Freya exploded yet again into a wild frenzy of carnage and massive slaughter, and began mowing her way through the enemy number like they were nothing more than ripe wheat.

“Are you crazy?!” screeched Eiko, but from the look of Freya’s battle-face, she knew the dragoon was very much in her right mind. And so, with little other choice in the matter, Eiko let out a hiss and returned to the battle, but not before letting out one final comment,

“…This is NUTS!”

Thirty minutes passed before the enemies surrounding the beaches finally retreated, but by that time, the opposing forces had been so badly beaten that their own option of retreat had almost been taken. Freya’s boldness in battle might have cost several good lives; if she had retreated, as Eiko suggested, a few more people might have lived to see another day. As it stood, the small group had a victory on their hands, albeit a very hollow and painful one.

Freya herself sat quietly as Eiko mended her wounds. The sting of battle was all around her, in terms of scars and bruises and burns, but more devastating were the inner scars, the mental injuries she had to keep forever as a reminder of her own stubborn pride and occasional foolhardy nature. It was true that she had inflicted serious casualties with her spear (and had received lots of injuries herself), but the fact remained that if she hadn’t been so brash, a few more lives might have been spared.

“…It’s hard, I know,” said Eiko, reading Freya’s lifeless expression. The dragoon took in a deep breath and shook her head.

“I’m sorry. I seem to cause trouble wherever I go.”

“You’re not perfect,” said Eiko with a strained half-smile. Freya agreed to that and winced slightly as a few more wounds healed up. Poor Eiko had taxed herself to the extreme while fighting, yet the little summoner still seemed to have enough pep left in her to heal up the wounded. On a more grim note, the Phoenix eidolon had to be summoned quite a few times…

“Did I do the right thing?” asked Freya, mostly to herself. “I stayed in that battle and fought it out to the end. I encouraged everyone else to do the same. We did stay, and we did drive those enemies away, and we certainly proved our power. But I wonder if it was really wise of me to do that.”

“You were thinking about the time you escaped Burmecia during that last invasion,” noted Eiko. Freya stared hauntingly into the eyes of the little girl and shivered in horror. For a very long time, there was silence in the air.

“……Perhaps,” she sighed. “That was definitely not my finest hour. I…… I guess you really could say that I was trying to make up for my cowardice back then. But… I ran from that fight and lived. What do you suppose would have happened to me if I stayed?”

“I dunno,” shrugged Eiko. “Things like that are so complicated--things like fate, destiny, chance, luck, free will… I don’t bother, though. It’s way out of my league. For now, let’s just say that you did the right thing. Self-preservation is integrated into all of us, no matter what we say or do.”

“…Agreed,” whispered Freya gently. “But… there is also honor, and the will to make up for past mistakes.”

“I suppose. Well, you’re all fixed. I’d tell you to go easy, but knowing you, and the circumstances we’re in now…” Freya smiled and stood up, and sure enough, her body was back to its usual healthy condition. Eiko sure was a wonderful little gem. It would be interesting to see which direction she took as she grew up…

“I know, I know. Thank you, Eiko. I know I don’t deserve to be healed up--”

“Aw, no problem!” smiled the girl. “We all do things we regret, and we all do things we’re proud of. Who knows, maybe your tenacity will help us in the future…?” Freya nodded her head, and took a deep breath as she gazed into the sky before her. The battle of the beach had been won, but at great cost, so she could only imagine what the subsequent fights would lead to. Would she, as a leader, perform well and give out reasonable commands? Would she retreat when necessary, or would she stay and fight regardless?

Freya certainly did have a lot on her mind, and under any other circumstance, she would have brooded forever on all of them. Loners like her usually got lost in their own thoughts and questions, and this time was no different, but there was also a war going on. And in war, thinking and questioning are not always good ways to spend the time available…

“Well, enough standing around here,” said Freya with a sigh. “We’d better go on ahead and see if there’s any other disturbances. Come on; it’s going to be a long day.”

“You can sure say that again,” sighed Eiko as she followed close behind.

The battles only grew worse from then on out, as Freya had anticipated. It was as if the entire Outer Continent had suddenly grown infested with barbaric invaders, and it was up to a small force to eliminate such large numbers. The dragoon could only guess why the continent was so overrun with beasts--probably because this was Iudicium’s hideout, and they were “guarding” the place--so alongside her battling senses, her attention was also drawn towards anything suspicious.

Freya ran wildly into the thick of the stormy battle, her spear held before her like the lance of a jouster. The previous fight had given her wisdom; she now recognized when it was best to run, and when it was best to duel it out to death. Needless to say, this very battle would be but a skirmish. There were far too many enemies for her to fight--heck, she would need a whole army to take them on--but the point of her presence there was not to participate in the war, but to uncover the whereabouts of her enemy’s hideout.

…Well, maybe she could fight a little bit…

Freya began her second great struggle for survival by swinging her spear at the first creature she saw, decapitating its head nicely while being thrown into the thick ferocity of the battle around her. In this more desperate and uncontrolled fight, the only thing she knew was her own self: the condition of her weapon as it span, poked, and sliced anything within range, the condition of her body as blood splattered over it and injuries piles up, the condition of the immeasurable screaming sounds, and the vicious noise that rose up to greet the thunders above.

Freya leaped high into the air, tumbled, and landed directly in front of a large Red Giant, by far the most threatening beast in the present army. Its sword alone was bigger than she was, and the beast’s armor was so thick that only a legendary weapon could scratch it. Freya prepared her weapon by holding it in a defensive position with her left hand, and kept both her emerald eyes on the creature as it lumbered forward. With a sudden leap, she sailed through the sky--and was viciously swatted away by the giant’s fast hands.

She landed on the ground with a mighty SLAM, causing dirt and debris to scatter in her wake. The giant raised its foot, intending to stomp on the grounded dragoon, but she rolled away just before she could be flattened. The giant did not surrender, and continued stamping on the ground with its feet. Freya rolled aside every time, just barely avoiding the massive foot, and while she was evading this monstrous beast, she came up with a plan of counterattack.

After rolling around for a few seconds more, Freya came to a halt and laid on her back, anticipating the giant’s next attack. The foot came down on her hard, but before she could be smashed into atoms, she quickly produced her unbreakable weapon, and held it vertically over her body. The giant’s foot instantly impaled itself on the spear, and a mighty shriek came from the creature as its foot was punctured. Weaponless, Freya tackled the giant with all her strength, sending him tumbling to the ground--and exposing the sole of his foot.

Now with the advantage hers, Freya grabbed hold of her spear and slowly began to yank it out. The monsters surrounding her were thankfully being taken care of; otherwise, she would have died long ago. With each mighty tug, her spear came sliding out of the giant’s foot, millimeter by painful millimeter, making the giant howl and scream as the blade cut its flesh. Freya’s muscles were taxed to their absolute limit as she yanked her weapon out--it had been buried in almost completely--but slowly, slowly, the weapon came out, and with one final terrifying pull, the spear was released again.

Without the thorn in its flesh, the giant was able to fight back. Its foot was still critically injured, and it was still screaming because of such pain, so Freya had plenty of time on her hands. The Burmecian scurried up the body of the fallen giant like a true rat, leaped high into the air, and dove down directly on the giant’s throat, plunging her spear into the monster’s body yet again. This time, though, was most definitely the last she would ever see of the Red Giant…

Next, after slaying the monster, Freya turned her attention to more creatures surrounding her. Taking quick note of Eiko and Mikoto, who both seemed to be faring reasonably well, the dragoon sprinted back into the violent fracas and began fighting demonically. The woman’s spear moved so fast that the tip looked like it was on fire. Being coated with giant’s blood only helped the illusion work more, and being struck with such a weapon certainly felt like being kissed by flame.

Freya plowed her way through a large score of smaller monsters, mostly miscellaneous in shape and form, until she got to a bigger one. She quickly spared a glance sideward, noticing that the crowd of beasts hadn’t thinned much since the start of the battle, and knew that this might have been her last fight. Okay, just get rid of this beast, then maybe five more, and call the retreat. You know you can’t fight all these monsters, and it’s not time for you to see your parents just yet…

“Feel my wrath!” she screamed as she plunged her weapon into the ogre’s belly. The creature froze as the blade kissed his innards, but slowly gained back his strength and confidence, and gave Freya a wicked smile. To her shock, he pulled the weapon right out of his body, flinging both it and Freya aside like so much rubbish. The dragoon landed on her feet, assessing her new foe carefully. Sure, the ogre was injured, but from the smile on its face, it was hardly lethal.

“Guess I’ll just have to try something else,” she muttered. Freya held her spear in the classical defensive position, keeping both emerald eyes locked onto the ugly monster. It grinned at her, probably thinking she was his next meal, and stomped towards her with deadly hunger in its eyes. But Freya, who was not about to become anybody’s meal, ran towards the monster again and made a quick slice. The attack only produced a scar and a bit of blood; the monster didn’t even flinch.

“Tough little freak, aren’t you?” she sneered. The ogre grinned, but its smile soon faded in a flash of fire. Freya had swung her spear in an upwards arc, cleaving the beast’s head off along with its neck and part of its shoulder. No matter how powerful those things were, they would not survive such a mortal blow. With that out of the way, Freya raced to her next and hopefully final challenge, making sure that she only slaughtered a few more before calling the retreat.

Hack, slash, there went two. Slice, swish, cleave, another, and thwack!! One more! Freya impaled her final foe, and flung it mercilessly at the remaining legion before calling the retreat.

“We’ve done all we can here!” she cried. “Let’s go while we still can! Eiko, Mikoto, let’s retreat!”

“Gotcha!!” came a familiar voice. Freya trusted that everyone else had heard her call, so she could only hope that they took similar actions as she ran from the battle. Freya knew that this time around, it was not cowardice that prompted her escape, but intelligence. Even the mightiest commander knew when the battle was lost, and Freya was beginning to recognize her own insufficiencies and weaknesses. This battle could not be won, ergo, the retreat was the best choice to make.

The long hike that followed the battle was indeed a tough one. The Hilda Guarde 4 had landed on the beach of the Outer Continent, and Conde Petie, the Black Mage Village, and Madain Sari were all located very far away from the shores. The group marching there was considerably smaller than it had once been, thanks to the two consecutive battles that they had been through. Freya blamed herself for the majority of the losses, though it was clear that quite a few of them had been lost in that second fight.

The wind-whipped plains of the Outer Continent were mostly scored with dry, brittle earth that did not see much vegetation to it. The land was pure, though, with lots of warm sun in the summer and cold wind during the wintertime. What little bits of lush environment the continent could boast were few and far between. The place was not completely desolate: it had marshes, and of course the beach, and the forest which the Black Mages called home.

But the environment certainly made everyone feel just a little more depressed--or at least, it succeeded in making Freya feel downtrodden. Mikoto hardly ever showed emotion to begin with, though she was becoming more open, and of course Eiko was bouncy and chipper as ever. She had a good reason to be happy: she had not seen her home in awhile, and was looking forward to going back. It never seemed to cross her mind that the place might have been overrun by monstrous invaders.

Freya’s mood was comforted slightly by Eiko’s cheerfulness, and Mikoto kept the older woman good company. The young Genome looked very much like Zidane, except she was obviously more feminine, and she didn’t have that ridiculous smile plastered forever on her face. Freya liked Mikoto a little bit, only as much as she knew her; her relationship with Eiko was equally wobbly. It seemed the dragoon was not very close to a lot of people, but to whom she did call friend…

“You’re thinking too much again!” sang Eiko merrily. Freya crossed her eyebrows in confusion and gave the little summoner a puzzled look. “I don’t even have to look at you to tell,” continued Eiko as she marched along the path. “I can hear it in your footsteps. You always walk a pace slower when you’re in deep thought.”

“I’m sorry,” sighed Freya. “I’m usually thinking about something. It’s just an old habit of mine that got started somewhere around the time when Fratley first left Burmecia. I wasn’t always like this, mind you.” Eiko turned around to face Freya formally, and gave the taller woman a cute smile.

“Don’t spend so much time thinking! Jeez, Freya! For once, just accept things as they are! Let life run its course! Don’t try to control the reigns, just make sure you’re holding on tight when the ride starts!” Freya smiled faintly at Eiko’s surprising wisdom, and had to wonder which parts were taken from a play and which parts came from her own head.

“…Ipsen to his friend, Act 4, scene 7, lines 36 to 38,” smiled the summoner as she raised a matter-of-fact finger. “Ipsen is comforting his friend, who was traveling with him for a long time. His friend thought too much as well, so Ipsen had to intervene.”

“Well, you’re quite the little scholar, aren’t you?” mused Freya. “Quoting from a play… You know, when I was your age, I was barely old enough to read the elementary stories that my auntie read to me. And here you are quoting a play!” Eiko smiled and hid a blush as she lowered her head.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been told that I’m awfully smart for my age.”

“I believe you are,” said Freya with a thoughtful smile. She walked over and ruffled the little girl’s hair, and told her that one day, she would make a certain man--or men--very happy and lucky.

“Yeah, too bad Zidane missed out!” she boasted. “Oh well, his loss!!” Freya chuckled and rolled her eyes, and promised Eiko that she would try to accept more things from then on out.

“Aw, it’s okay. You know, do whatever you want. If thinking about things makes you feel better, then by all means…!” Freya smiled and made note of the child’s advice, and the group continued their long, difficult, and lonely march towards the main cities of the Outer Continent. Their destinations would go from Conde Petie, where they would enlist the dwarves’ assistance, then on to Black Mage Village, and finally, Madain Sari. Personally, Eiko couldn’t wait to be back home, even though she knew that they probably wouldn’t be there for about a week, at the most.

“In the meantime,” she said, “I think we’ll just go for a little walk. I can only hope the worst of those fights are behind us.”

----------

With Conde Petie before them, and quite a distance behind, the group picked up the pace slightly and prepared to confront dwarves. The sunny, warm, earthy civilization looked to be neatly intact, and unspoiled by the previous battles that Freya and the others had seen, which means that the armies had not gotten that far just yet. There would be no explaining it: even a General who used perfect finesse would be unable to leave an attacked city completely unharmed, so Freya could assume the best when she ran towards the city.

The plan was to first wait for Steiner’s forces, who would come by later to rendezvous with Freya’s team. The two sides would then gain the alliance of the dwarves, and later the mages and Genomes, and together, the large assembly would search the continent for Iudicium’s base. At the least, they could rid it of the leftover armies of darkness that remained from the most recent worldwide invasion (the one Iudicium had orchestrated himself), but Freya was honestly praying they found something. She had so many reasons to want to fight this powerful foe… But until that moment came, she would have to be patient and ask for reinforcements.

It was a calm hour that led them to the borders of Conde Petie; perhaps, in a clichéd way, too calm. The wind was weak, the sky was clear, and there was nary a sound, save for the crunching made by feet crossing the barren earth. Freya was uneasy as she slowly walked towards the city, wishing for a bird or a wandering animal or something to break the quiet. The silence was so overwhelming, in fact, that Eiko actually whispered when she made her next statement.

“(What do you think’s gonna happen?)” Surprisingly, Freya whispered as well.

“(Don’t know. Keep your eyes open, though. No telling what’s gonna come out.)” Eiko nodded her head, and grasped her Flute a little tighter. The silence was briefly remedied as a few nearby bushes began to rustle, and the intensity of the situation increased as the sound put everybody on alert. Freya’s fur stood on end, like a cat’s, and all eyes were focused on the bush, and the object that came crashing out of it.

Bunny.

Sighs were released as the gray rabbit hopped out, still munching a bit on the leaves he had found. Freya hissed out a curse and relaxed considerably.

“Don’t scare us like that…” Immediately thereafter, the shrubs exploded violently, and a creature broke loose from them and instantly pounced on the rabbit. It viciously tore the creature apart and devoured it in record time, screaming and roaring so loudly that it sent everyone into shock. Freya was nearly bowled over by the surprise--who wasn’t?--and now that everybody had been frightened to death by the sudden appearance of this new creature, it took ample time to observe them.

The monster was worse than a beast, something so demonic that only Hell could have produced it. It faintly resembled a cross between a kimono dragon, a bear, and a wolverine: the creature walked on all fours, with a vicious spike-covered tail swinging massively behind it. Its body was covered with bristly fur, scales, and spikes on the backside, and all its limbs bore long, nasty claws at the tip.

The head of the monster was something out of a true nightmare, however. The face was completely black, with ghastly white eyes and red marks dripping down it that could have been blood, stripes, or both. The monster’s teeth were as horrible as its claws, and a very, very faint trace of humanity could be seen on the face, albeit a grossly disfigured trace.

“My word!!” choked Freya, clinging to her spear weakly. “What IS that abomination?!” The monster before them growled viciously, displaying a long, black, dripping tongue amidst its razor teeth.

“I am the guardian to all things evil,” it spoke. Freya grimaced even more as the monster demonstrated its speaking abilities--the voice itself was terribly dark, wicked, evil, malignant, and altogether unholy--and the grip she had on her weapon tightened.

“You are coming too close to my master’s abode,” growled the creature again, pacing around them like a panther. “I have been given the pleasure of devouring and slaughtering everything that gets too close to my master’s abode, and there are no exceptions to this joy. Prepare for a feeding!!”

“Do you have a name that which we may curse you by, demon?!” snarled Freya. The creature seemed to grin, and responded darkly.

“I am called SCOURGE!!!” Without wasting another moment, the monstrous creature with the incredibly apt name bounded forward, tackling Freya viciously before anyone else knew what had happened. It lashed at her with its teeth and disgusting tongue, and used its claws to rake across her clothes and defenseless body. The beast’s teeth snapped at her, and came dreadfully close to ripping her face off more than one time, and it was only through the massive amounts of wrestling Freya did that she was saved from such a gruesome fate.

The dragoon’s powerful legs kicked the beast away, and it rolled a good deal before righting itself. Freya stood to her full height as well, gathering her weapon, her senses, and resolve back together for another round. Her body had small scratches here and there, and she stank a bit from the monster’s breath, but otherwise, ready to fight.

“You shan’t have such an easy victory,” she said in a lethal tone. Turning her head to the others, she hissed out a quick command. “Eiko, Mikoto, get going! I can handle this beast by myself, but the rest of you need to alert Ghiott and the other dwarves! Hurry, there’s no time to argue!”

“…If you insist,” shrugged Mikoto, and without wasting a second, the female Genome grabbed Eiko by the hand and dragged her along into the dwarf city.

“Hey, wait! You’re not just gonna leave her to fight that monster, are you?!”

“No time to argue,” shrugged Mikoto as she ran. Eiko growled in protest, but was unable to wrest herself from the grasp of the swift Genome. As they kicked up dust, Freya breathed out a sigh of relief, and gave the demonic Scourge a deadly gaze.

“Now, it’s just us, you inhuman monstrosity! Prepare yourself for obliteration!” The monster said nothing except for a vicious roar, and launched itself yet again upon Freya. But the dragoon was prepared this time, and leaped high into the air to avoid the strike. As she jumped, she swung her spear at the beast in an attempt to cleave it in two, but missed because of the strength of her jump. However, the beast did not go away completely unscathed, as a few of its nasty spikes were sheared off in midair.

When the two landed on the ground, they took a few extra seconds studying the other. Not a one of them was unadulterated: the creature’s claw marks were all over Freya, and she had eliminated quite a few of its deadly spikes. So, with the two of them theoretically even, they ran towards each other and dove into a full-scale massive slaughter, battling each other to the gruesome death.

Freya struck first, swinging her spear horizontally at the monster’s head as it lunged towards her. But the beast was unspeakably fast, and used the length of its legs to grasp onto the ground beneath it and skid to a halt, just barely avoiding the swinging blade. After this attack failed, Freya ran after the beast with her hand stretched out in front of her, but the scourge hopped around in random positions, evading everything she had hoped to throw at it.

Freya observed the creature jumping around, every last bit of her concentration aimed solely at the beast. After a dozen or so hops, Scourge stopped and leered at his opponent yet again, and the battle began again.

“Perhaps you can stop moving long enough for me to hit you,” she said. Scourge’s tongue raked across its mouth in a perverse, slobbery lick, and the beast took a single threatening step towards his prey.

“Perhaps. But perhaps I shall stop moving long enough to rip your throat out!!” The demonic creature lunged at Freya again, taking her by surprise and slamming her down on the ground. Before it could make a snap at her, she quickly kicked it away, launching it into the air and sending it traveling behind her. In a flash, Freya stood and turned to meet the beast, and slashed at it before it could recover.

A loud whelping sound cried out as the beast received a bloody scar, but it came back for more in unbelievable time. It lunged at Freya like a starving dog--she instinctively raised her arm to protect herself--and grabbed hold of her forearm in a tight grasp. Claw and tooth alike dug into her flesh, and Freya let out a powerful scream before issuing her counterattack. The monster was attached to her dominant arm, so she would have to use her right in order to stop it.

With several jabs, whacks, and pokes, she managed to bully the creature off before he could tear any more of her flesh apart. As the beast dropped to the floor, most of its head bruised and ripped apart by Freya’s weapon, the dragoon took a few breaths and examined her arm. It was seriously injured, bleeding terribly, and most likely (from the looks of the beast), there was a poison running through her system. Freya actually had the nerve to smile as she held her spear in the only hand she had that still operated well.

Steeling her resolve once again, Freya put her wounds aside and vaulted high into the air, as high as her legs would allow. The beast could only hop after her; he would never be able to reach her at that altitude. Wanting to finish the battle before her injuries increased, Freya twirled her spear in her hand like the blade of an airship propeller, and with the gathered momentum she was acquiring, she thrust her weapon towards the monster like a lightning bolt.

Of course, the creature’s speed helped it avoid the blow, but Freya was already descending by the time it hopped away. Wasting no time, not even a split second to let her feet recover from the impact, Freya yanked her weapon out of the ground and struck at the monster with a final, powerful blow. Not even this scourge could avoid it; the spear sailed straight through its head, splitting it apart and sending a delicious amount of unmentionables spewing out as a result.

“Let the worms feed on thy flesh, demon!” snarled Freya. She let out a weary sigh of victory, then allowed herself to cringe at her unimaginable wounds. When she was not kicking herself for allowing Eiko to scamper off, Freya dedicated her steps to moving towards Conde Petie.

Freya began to experience déjà vu as Eiko wrapped what remained of her wounds in a few bandages. She had indeed made it to Conde Petie with just enough spunk to call out for a doctor, and had been rushed inside the nearest inn so that she could be treated. An antivenom was injected into her system just in case, and the scars she had received were healed up by Eiko and the medics there. Freya had been ordered to rest and recover while the business of gaining the dwarves’ alliance was handled by Mikoto and the others, and since she was plumb tired anyway, she eagerly agreed.

But like all well-earned rests, this one did not last very long. By the following day, Ghiott and his dwarves were massing together and devoting their services to helping the Alexandrian army seek out and destroy Iudicium’s base--or, at the least, get rid of any leftover monsters from the previous invasions. Steiner’s Pluto Knights came by the day after, complaining about something as always, with poor Steiner feeling like he was still babysitting an infantry.

“It’s a wonder that many of these men classify as knights,” he grunted as he rested his bones. “Ah, well. They are noteworthy in tight situations. Anyway, I have been assigned to hold my ground here and scout around thoroughly. I assume you know everyone else’s duties?”

“Yes,” said Freya. “Mikoto is going to look around Black Mage Village, and I’m to be stationed at Madain Sari. The continent is large, but if our armies spread themselves out and search prudently, there won’t be many places to hide. I only pray we find the enemy’s base soon.”

“As do I,” agreed Steiner.

With Alexandria’s business in Conde Petie now concluded, Freya, Eiko, Mikoto, and the remnants of their army could proceed onward, into the nearby Black Mage village. Naturally, Freya hoped that there would be no more enemies like Scourge waiting for her around that area.

There were not.

There were worse enemies.

With her battle wounds but a bad memory now, and the attack of Scourge nothing more than a nightmare, Freya was altogether prepared for anything that got in her way. This was not the time to think or brood, nor beat herself up for past mistakes. She was now concentrated, at the front of the line, keeping watch for anything suspicious, so as not to make those same mistakes she regretted over and over again.

So far, the increased party saw nothing out of the ordinary, which of course was suspicious enough on its own. Anything that “seemed” to be commonplace and quiet was most certainly anything but. It had been silence which ushered in Scourge, and an era of peace that had brought the invading forces of Iudicium and Ignus to Alexandria. Freya had a feeling that this new time of quiet and inactivity would be no different.

Thankfully, Black Mage village was not very far away from Conde Petie, and the whole group got through the forest surrounding it in only a few minutes. The dwarves had never been through the woods themselves, since it was so thick and deep that “even owls did not live there”, so it was new territory for them. Mikoto was the guide through the woods, since she was the only one among them who really knew her way through those woods. Eiko and Freya had been to this forested town before, but not so many times that they knew how to get there.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” said Mikoto as politely as she could. There was even a bit of a smile on her face as she guided the group into the village, and perhaps even a bit of pride in her eyes. Certainly, she was beginning to adapt to her home. Freya smiled and breathed a little easier as she entered into the simply-constructed village, and dropped her guard as she ventured into a friendly land. Both the Black Mages and the Genomes living there were kind to travelers, but a little confusing to live around.

“Ah, it’s been awhile since I’ve last been here,” commented the dragoon. She wandered away to be by herself for awhile, and everyone else split up to have a talk with the other mages and Genomes. Certainly, now that this new alliance was being made, there was no place Iudicium could hide, and there was no enemy that could oppose them. The skill of the Genomes, the strength of the dwarves, the magic of the mages, and the might of Alexandria were perhaps too much to handle, even for a madman such as Iudicium.

However, Freya was not aware of the pair of eyes stalking her…

Resting herself against a tree, Freya allowed a bit of peace and comfort to slip into her mind as she waited for the alliance to be sealed. Truth be told, her business was not in the diplomacy of the meeting, but in guarding those who were traveling, and fighting off the monsters that were encountered. Freya Crescent had a bit of a diplomatic side to her, and if she really wanted to, she could have been with everyone else--

But no, her place was not in a small room, talking to other people and convincing them to go along with something. She was a fighter, a dragoon by profession and by choice, and unless old age claimed her first, she hoped to die in the field of battle one day--not droning on endlessly. Besides, the day was nice and cool, and the breeze was gentle and ticklish, and the shady leaves above were falling gently onto the ground as autumn took full swing. Black Mage Village was especially beautiful during the late harvest season, when the leaves turned golden and fiery red, and the air had a delicious scent in it.

Hearing leaves rustle was a common occurrence in Black Mage Village. One could not take a step without hearing some activity in the trees, since the entire place was surrounded by forests. Freya did not concern herself with this sound as she rested there, despite how unnaturally loud and frequent it was. She thought nothing of it--perhaps a squirrel or some large bird--and not concerning herself with such a problem was her mistake.

Suddenly, something leaped out of the trees, and ran towards Freya with such an incredible speed that she was almost killed without having moved at all. But at the absolute last second, the dragoon realized her life was in critical danger, and put every last ounce of power into her legs as she leaped into the canopy above. Whatever was about to attack her had left two very deep gashes in the tree she had previously been reclining against. These cuts were almost deep enough to split the tree apart, and had Freya not leaped away at the last possible moment, she would have received that same treatment.

So, of course she was a bit frightened. Whatever had attacked her had done it so suddenly that she barely had time to blink.

The dragoon came out of her perch to see what was trying to kill her, but it was long gone by then. She held her breath in and grabbed her weapon, keeping it at the ready in case the being came back. There were no sounds this time, no birds chirping or brooks babbling or even the muted conversations of black mages. There was complete and utter silence in the middle of a forest, and this was chilling enough to send a shiver up Freya’s spine. Her stomach twisted and turned as she kept her senses at an acme.

Without any warning, the attacker assaulted her again, slashing at her with an insane speed. Freya’s spear was out and blocking every blow, but the being moved too fast for her to get a good look at it. Finally, to her surprise, the attacker ceased its rampage, and stood still just long enough for the dragoon to get a really good look at it.

It seemed to be a human male, dressed from toe to neck in black array. His boots, pants, shirt, gloves, everything was black, including the wide-brimmed hat he had over his head. The hat was so large that it covered his hair and eyes, though if Freya looked carefully enough, she could see strands of blonde hair trickling out of the hat. She squinted hard at the man, holding her spear in case of another attack, and waited for the man’s next move.

“…An assassin?” she guessed. The man smiled cruelly.

“Yes. I have been in the service of Vikar Iudicium for many years, as you might have already guessed by now.”

“Yeah, go figure. Let me guess: you’ve been sent to kill me.”

“Correct.” The man with the hat extended his arms a bit, and in a flash, two medium-range knives came twirling into view. The man stood in an offensive position, aiming one of his knives at Freya and keeping the other as a defense.

“I am the world’s third-best assassin, which is more than enough to kill you and your comrades. I don’t know why Vikar wants you dead so badly, but I’m not paid to ask questions. Tell me, how quickly do you want to die?”

“I don’t think I’m going to be the one who dies,” growled Freya. The assassin smiled thinly and let out a chuckle.

“Sure. There are only two others who are even greater than I am--I believe you know one of them, The Hunter--but being third is no problem. I’m all you’ll need.”

“You have a name?”

“They call me Bloodbane,” answered the killer. Freya shivered as she recognized the infamous name, and her silvery fur turned pale a bit as she grasped the full concept of what she was doing, and who she was facing up against. Truly, if ever there was a man to fear, it was the ruthless and cold-blooded killer, Bloodbane. This man killed dragons for sport, and could probably give Beatrix a hard time. To be honest, Freya didn’t know if she could beat him or not.

“I am Freya Crescent,” she told him. Bloodbane’s smile faded, and the stoic face of the third-deadliest assassin in the known world stared back at her in cold calculation.

“Okay. Now, let us begin our struggle for survival. If you can manage to kill me, which I doubt you will, I will let you live. Is that a deal?”

“Cute,” she muttered, and without another word wasted, the two warriors stood off against each other, and for the fourth time that week, Freya was going to be fighting for her very life.

Both Freya and the assassin Bloodbane glared at each other in the deadly silence of the Black Mage village. Both warriors, fully knowledgeable of the other’s skills, stared each other down and calculated everything about their opponent: their breath, their body form, their faces, the way they swallowed down their anxiety… The only thing missing was a clock that would indicate when it was High Noon.

Both Freya and Bloodbane exploded after each other in a single sudden moment, their weapons splitting the air apart as they sailed towards each other. The knives and the spear clashed together with a mighty clang, sending a few sparks tumbling down to the ground. Both warriors glared at each other with renewed intensity, pushing and testing the other’s strength as their eyes burned into each others’.

Suddenly, Freya broke free of the lock and swung her spear horizontally. Bloodbane strafed away, then leaped back into the attack and performed a fiery dance with his blades--swish, swish! Freya twisted her spear to defend against the slices, then blazed forth with her own, the blade crashing down in an angle and a swift upper-thrust of the butt of the spear. Bloodbane’s knives moved accordingly, like they were extensions of his hands and not simple weapons.

Bloodbane spun around like a razor-filled tornado, kicking up wind and knives as he struck again and again with each of his weapons--one was bad enough, being short and exceptionally fast and sharp enough to cleave through a tree, but with one knife in each of his hands, he could strike at twice the speed, slice at twice the pain, and the length of such weapons enabled him to sneak in close, where long-range weapons could have no affect.

But Freya had fought many short-range battles before with her spear; that had been a prerequisite when she trained in the Burmecian military. She knew that while her spear was good as a long-range weapon, it was useless in close battles like this, unless one knew how to wield it properly. Freya was a master of her weapon, perhaps second only to Fratley and a few others scattered around, and she could improvise when her choice of attack proved unsuccessful. A long spear meant more places she could use as a defense.

So, Freya blocked the blows sent her way for the time, playing defense and watching Bloodbane’s movements. Of course, after a few seconds of attacking, the assassin figured out Freya’s plan. He did not get so high on the murderous ladder for nothing; his skill and experience allowed him to respond and maneuver according to whatever his opponents were planning, in no less the time it took him to swing his deadly knives. Smiling tightly, Bloodbane leaped backwards just far enough so that Freya would think she had the freedom of long range again, and then…

When the black-clad man vaulted backwards, Freya did indeed release her defense and positioned her spear back to an offensive stance. With a significant distance now between them, she had the opportunity to run towards him and attempt an attack at last, so she took it. Bloodbane figured she would do something similar to this (not exactly, of course, but he was close), and kept his eyes locked onto Freya’s weapon, watching it wobble and weave and split the molecules of oxygen.

She knows she’s not going to hit me, so she’s going to try for a few weak slashes. I should be able to pull off something decent, but I’m going to have to go a little limber… Gritting his teeth, Bloodbane hastily swerved underneath Freya’s spear as it swished at him, and with his body bent so much out of proportion, he really had to concentrate on what he was doing. Quickly, he placed his back on the ground and wrapped his shoes around Freya’s waist, and used the momentum she had built up to throw her away, into the distance.

A back-breaking crunch later, Bloodbane was on his feet and Freya had barely missed slamming into a tree. She had used her hands and feet to absorb the blow, so they stung something powerful by the time she came back to the ground. For a brief moment, she stood there gazing at her opponent, trying to examine such a deadly foe, while at the same time, trying to think up of her own battle strategy. She could do it, though; this was what she truly lived for.

“I am astounded,” she told him. “I didn’t see that one coming. You must’ve torn a few muscles pulling off that one.”

“I’m a very limber man,” explained Bloodbane. “But yes, it wasn’t easy. Don’t think I’ll be trying that for awhile!” He snorted, and exercised his strained back muscles for awhile as Freya studied him. The dragoon hissed to herself, knowing that he was just playing with her, and took her spear into her right hand. Bloodbane didn’t have to know that this wasn’t her dominant hand.

“Ah, so you’ve been using your other hand all this time!” he exclaimed. “What, you think that if you use your right, I’d die too soon? Please. Spare me the melodramatics! I mean, why else do you think I go for the ambidextrous attack?” Freya snarled but said nothing, and hoped that her unorthodox and slightly foolish move would work. Only one way to find out…

Once again, the dragoon and the assassin tore after each other, kicking up the wind and leaves as they crashed together and fought. There was no more silence in the forest--now, it was a master assassin performing his art, and a dragoon defending herself against something that could only be called a Force. This Bloodbane was good--no, he was great. Freya honestly couldn’t remember the last time any single foe caused her so much trouble.

…Well, there was Beatrix, but…

A sharp crashing sound broke the dragoon’s concentration, and sparks spat out at both her and Bloodbane. Their weapons had collided together again, and were locked in a vicious stalemate. Freya knew that if this fight was prolonged, then the Black Mages, the Genomes, and the others would probably rush over to her and “see what all the noise was about”, and their presence would only prove a distraction for her. This fight needed to end fast.

Snarling, Freya went for broke and gave a sudden kick to Bloodbane’s midsection. He grimaced terribly, and in an instant, his guard was lowered. Freya saw her chance and dove forward to finish him off, but before she could swing her spear, Bloodbane quickly leaped forward and attacked with his knives. Freya had to raise her spear up quickly to shield herself from the blow, but from the way Bloodbane attacked, he had not intended to kill.

Yet.

As his blades nicked up against the Dragon’s Whisker, Bloodbane quickly twirled his weapons in his hands, and rammed the butt end of both knives right into Freya’s body. The two powerful blows dug in deep, sending a powerful wave of pain smashing into her gut. Freya growled in agony and let a tear fall out of her eye before bowling over slightly. That cheap shot had hurt like crazy, but Freya was ridiculously lucky that her opponent had not chosen to stab her.

“Well, looks like we’re even again,” he grunted. Freya, squinting her eyes from the blow she had received, bared her teeth and countered with her own thought.

“Yes… but not for long!” Instantly, she slashed at him, but Bloodbane’s recovery was just as fast, and both his knives cleaved at Freya. Both attacks connected, and a brief shower of blood fell onto the ground as a man’s chest and a woman’s arm were slit open.

They both let out an exclamation of pain, but like masochistic warriors, they dove right back into the battle for even more. It then turned into a lawless free-for-all, with attacks going here and there, bodies ducking and weaving out of the way, weapons raising and swinging and blocking and slashing like the baton of a conductor, and more slashes, scars, and raining droplets of blood than one would think for a single one-on-one match.

Twenty minutes after their fight began, both Freya and Bloodbane were on their knees, panting and wheezing and bleeding terribly. The only thing that covered them more than sticky red goo was their own perspiration, and more than that, battle fatigue. They both looked like they needed a rest, since during the whole fight they had been evenly matched. Freya wanted to finish the job now, while Bloodbane was on his knees, but she was barely in a condition to move; the situation was identical for the man in black.

Two more minutes passed before they both stood up for another charge. Their mouths silent, the only thing that interested these two warriors was a quick kill, and a chance to end the fight. They both tore after each other, each one preparing for a death blow, but who would survive and who would end up dead was completely indeterminate. Freya had the range and the power, but Bloodbane had that sickening speed of his, and the fact that there were two completely independent weapons and not just a single one put the odds of survival in his favor.

The two collided, Freya ramming her spear forward and Bloodbane plunging his knives in, and the both froze as they felt cold steel being planted in their bodies. Freya let out a groan, as both knives cut into her flesh, and Bloodbane…… Well, Bloodbane merely smiled. His injury was not as great as his opponent’s.

“Well… I must admit… you did give me a challenge… but now… I believe… this hunt is over. Fare well, dragoon!” Bloodbane grinned mercilessly at Freya, and pulled his weapons out of her body. But instead of submitting to the man in black and fainting away into Death, Freya gritted her teeth and plunged her weapon even further, literally impaling her enemy all the way through. The spear had been thrust in so deep that even the wooden shaft was protruding slightly; the whole blade had gone through, all the way through, leaving the victory to Freya.

“Yes… fare well indeed!” she whispered. The woman shouted out to her defeated foe with a voice of victory, and appeared to be completely unscathed as she gloated over the battle. “…I am Freya! Recall the name on your journey to Hell!” And with that, she yanked her weapon out of Bloodbane--not too quickly, so as to rip up a bit of his inside--and pushed the dead man out of her sight, and into a river, where he was washed away into the distance. Calmly, though she was bleeding severely, Freya held her spear proudly in front of her, and quietly gazed into the sun as the wind tickled her hair.

But even her pride and will could falter, and in a few moments, Freya was wearily crumbling to the floor, muttering as loud as she could for a medic.

Eiko just had to remark how odd it was that such a powerful dragoon like Freya could suffer so many injuries in the span of such a short period of time. Freya curtly told the little girl to “kindly shut up and pay attention to what you’re doing”, and for that snide comment, Eiko gave her patient a little pinch.

“Meanie,” she pouted. “Here I am healing you up, from a wound that obviously had the potential to kill you, and all you can do is be ungrateful!”

“I’m not ungrateful,” muttered Freya proudly. “I just don’t like the way you made fun of me. That assassin was extremely skilled and powerful, and it took everything I had to beat him. I don’t see you stepping in to handle a few fights!”

“Well, you think that’s because I wasn’t trained like you?” Eiko squeezed a few bandages too tightly on purpose, causing Freya to severely wince and hiss in pain.

“OUCH! That hurts!”

“That’s what you get for insulting me!” snapped Eiko. Freya glared at the summoner with eyes burning bright, and instantly poor Eiko shirked back.

“Stop being so immature,” she growled. “I swear, with you and Zidane, it feels like I’m babysitting or something.” Eiko gave Freya a sad pout, and carefully walked over to the dragoon with a sad expression on her face.

“Are you in a bad mood?”

“Yes, I’m in a bad mood!” hissed Freya. “I nearly got killed by that assassin, I lost quite a bit of blood, and the only thing you can give me is your immaturity! Yes, I’m grateful for your help, but I really wish you could show me more support. I practically saved a few lives today by eliminating that killer before he could attack anyone else! So just… be a little more grateful!”

“…I’m sorry,” sighed Eiko sadly. Freya rolled her eyes, knowing full well that the kid was just trying to manipulate her into feeling sorry. It was a trick Freya knew well, and it would not work on the dragoon.

“Apology accepted,” she sniffed. “Now hurry up. I’m starting to feel better, but we need to move out as quickly as possible.”

“Don’t be in such a rush!” insisted Eiko as she administered more cure spells on Freya. “I still have a long way to go, and everyone else is resting up from their travels! So, give us more time, all right?” Freya sighed, and apologized for her haste. If anything, the dragoon severely needed to work on her patience and her temper.

Once Freya was healed up and everybody was finally ready to go, the increased group packed up their things and set out for the final destination, Madain Sari. So far, there really had not been that many worries on the trip. With the exception of the big battles that had been fought on the beach and the plains, and the vicious attack of Scourge and Bloodbane, the trip had been peaceful for the most part. Freya kept on anticipating some great big malevolent change to occur, something like the discovery of Iudicium’s fortress, or at least an overwhelming foe--not that the previous ones hadn’t been difficult.

Still, she felt like there was something amiss that day, as she and Eiko and everyone else took the long walk from Black Mage forest into the Conde Petie canyons. Naturally, the place was pretty quiet, but the journey had been one of silence and not of extreme noise and confusion--which made it all the worse. Freya had expected half the continent to be deluged in a massive confusion and more enemies than she could possibly count, and that every step would lead into another vicious battle… But the silence, the unknown anticipation… this was by far worse than anything that the original scenarios could present.

Freya’s feeling was that there was some sort of hidden dread lurking around somewhere in the canyon, just aching to pounce on them at any given moment. This premonition of hers increased every time the group advanced a little more, every time her furry feet touched the rocky ground, every time her lungs were granted breath, every time her heart pulsated blood through her body…

And then, everything was thrown violently into disorder and anarchy as her feelings proved correct. A creature emerged out of nowhere, screaming and shouting and scaring everybody half to death. Without a wasted second, whatever had jumped them went into a maniacal attack, thrusting its body everywhere in an uncontrolled frenzy. Everybody, Freya included, had been caught completely off guard by the creature, and were now being flattened by its unfocused and unpredictable assault.

Finally, the dragoon found her senses and her spear, and whacked the creature with the butt end of her weapon. It was sent sailing backwards, and rolled on the ground in an unconscious heap. Freya took notice that the attacker was human, just barely. Its hair was completely frizzled and messed up, like it had been severely electrocuted in the near past. The human had a wild face, full of an insane and demented expression, and its only piece of clothing, other than the blue leggings it wore, was a ripped-up straitjacket it had obviously torn out of.

The investigation of the man was cut off quickly, as it leaped to its feet and began snarling at its opponents. Like a vicious dog, mad on rabies, it drooled and cackled and lunged at them with its short, sharp teeth, and scratched with his crooked claws. The creature was maniacal and uncontrollable, exploding into a frenzy that had never been seen on the field of battle nor even in the nightmares of most other people. Its screams were loud and rough, more like barking, and the flames in his eyes burned powerfully as he assaulted the group.

Suddenly, two Genomes piled up on him, pinning down each of his arms with their own body weight. The demented man snarled and snapped at them, but he was unable to move from the lock they had on. Freya, keeping her spear aimed straight at the maniac, slowly stepped towards him to get a better look.

“…Who are you?” she asked. The man choked out one word before bursting into a fit of vicious laughter.

“Insanity!!!” Suddenly, the man’s powerful legs sprang forth into action, vaulting him up off the ground, where he sent the Genomes flying with his incredible strength. The madman then turned his attention to Freya, and dribbled so violently that he would have put a whole nursery to shame.

“Pretty-pretty rat-rat,” he cackled, and before Freya could show her disgust, the man leaped right on top of her and sent her tumbling to the floor. He clamped his hands over her wrists, pinning her down easily, and began to attack her face. He bit, he snarled, he barked, he lashed at her perversely with his tongue… The man was uncontrollable, truly a work of Insanity, and the only thing Freya could do as a defense was scream and wiggle.

Thankfully, the man had attacked while she was in the company of others. All the while Insanity was snapping at her, the company tried yanking him off, or else poked him with their weapons in hopes of removing him. The man screamed out as a sword punctured his thigh, and with a face burning with mad fires, he turned and roared at whoever had attacked him--and everybody else.

This one-man monster lunged towards the group and began tossing everybody into the air, like they were made out of paper. He was hopelessly outnumbered, but with his mind lost and his violent urges on a rampage, the concept of winning and losing was nonexistent. He simply attacked, and attacked, and attacked, not knowing anything else except for the delicious sight of blood and the screams of other people.

Freya groaned, and tried to get up off the floor. She had been taken completely off guard, and was attacked in the most unreal way. Insanity was feral, unstoppable, completely maniacal and extremely dangerous. He had spit all over Freya, and a few bite marks showed where his teeth had dug in. With more disgust and pain on her face than she knew what to do with, Freya wiped off whatever she could with her sleeve, and readied her spear to put the man out of his misery.

Insanity leaped away from attacking the others, and let out a howling cackle as he prepared to strike his next opponent. Freya was ready this time, and had her spear pointed squarely at the madman. Insanity would not stop for anything, least of all a spear; he would continue to charge and rip apart the opposition until the day he died. He would not reason, would not exhaust, would not tire or surrender. This madman only knew how to rip things apart, and to act according to whatever his dead mind wished, so Freya had to deliver him into death or else suffer from his attack forever.

Insanity let out a scream as he rushed towards Freya, but at the last second, she flipped right over his body. Landing on the other side of him, Freya quickly slashed at his unprotected backside, creating a massive gash on his clothes and his body. Insanity howled out in pain, and turned around to turn his attacker into shreds. Freya immediately jammed her spear right into his chest once he turned around, and from the shocked look on the man’s face, the deed was done.

And then… something happened to him.

“My mind…” he whispered, “it’s… clearing up. I’m… being freed from that sickening madness…” The man looked at Freya and smiled, perhaps more aware of what was going on than even she was. “…Thank you,” he whispered, “for releasing me…” And with that, he fell down to the ground with a smile, and was able to sleep at long last.

After defeating both Insanity and Bloodbane, Freya and her company finally made it to Madain Sari. It certainly took them awhile, what with the distractions and the countless villains they had fought, but the effort had been worth it to visit the last inhabited place on the Outer Continent. Now there were very few places left to look for Iudicium’s hideout, and fewer still enemies to fight. But all that could wait awhile; it was time the gang had a little rest. They had certainly earned it.

Eiko and Mikoto wandered away from the main group to hang out with the local moogles, while Freya took the more scenic route and headed for the Eidolon Wall. This landmark was particularly peaceful and quiet, with a warm incense burner filling the air with its aroma. Freya carefully walked around the wall full circle, examining the Eidolons painted on it. To be frank, she had never actually been in the wall before, or even in Madain Sari, so of course she took a bit of time to examine it.

When she had had her fill, she found a good place to sit, and reclined close to the incense burner that had been placed in the center of the wall. The glowing embers directly behind her were soothing, and the smell masked away the stench that Insanity had left behind. Freya let out a brief smile as she considered what had happened to her thus far--the trials she had gone through in getting to that point in time were copious enough on their own.

She recalled, with mixed emotions, the personal pilgrimage she had made, and wondered when her road had begun. Certainly, she had been set on that path when her parents were killed and when her uncle Ficher took her in. There was also that day she met Fratley, and their brief but happy years spent together--and of course, what would a trip down memory lane be without the presence of that rascal Zidane?

“I must be getting old,” chuckled Freya to herself, “if that stupid little monkey has grown up into a King. By God, what is constant in this world?!”

The companionship of reliable friends, she reasoned, and of course, her thoughts went to Beatrix first. Her memories faintly recalled a dark era in the past, when Beatrix had suffered under the thumb of the power-hungry Brahne, and assisted in destroying Burmecia and Cleyra, and those awkward days following the old Queen’s death, when Freya didn’t know what to think of the one-eyed woman.

But oh, how the light did shine soon afterwards! It had been a strange fate that caused Freya and Beatrix to mold together a long-buried friendship: an enemy force invaded Burmecia and destroyed it beyond redemption, Freya crawled to Alexandria to beg for help, Beatrix ran off by herself…

Freya had never told anybody, but she had worried every hour of the day for Beatrix’s safety when the knight had stormed off to liberate Burmecia. The two were on the borderline between friends and enemies then, but even so, even though she never revealed it to anybody, Freya had concerned herself over Beatrix’s safety. She had let out a very genuine smile when the slightly-older warrior returned victoriously, but was still in too deep of a depression to show anything except a smile.

And then there was that beautiful afternoon on the Alexandrian balcony, where Freya stared Death in the face, and lost her mind and the will to live, and where Beatrix rescued the woman who had been both friend and enemy to her at one point. After that moment, and many more moments afterwards, the two warriors bonded together dramatically, like they had been the missing puzzles to each others’ lives, and only then were they coming together.

I’ll be a bloody mess if I end up loving that one-eyed freak, muttered Freya mentally. Then suddenly, a realization struck her, and Freya sat up as she came to a surprising conclusion.

“…Oh, my Lord!” she hissed. “I love her! My God, I love that one-eyed freak! Dear me, it’s true! By God…” Chuckling softly, though humor was not a part of it, Freya removed her hat and rested again on the pedestal that held the incense burner. Her smile reached into the sky, but her disbelief reached higher still. Slowly, clumsily, she raised her hand to the sky, and began tracing the clouds with her finger.

“Please don’t die on me, Beatrix,” she muttered softly. “I have one unbelievable story to tell you when I get back. But by God, you’re annoying. Hmph, I wish Fratley had fought you and won. At least you wouldn’t be influencing me so much.”

But you do love her, sighed her conscience. Admit it. You don’t know what you’d do with yourself if you lost her.

“Shut up,” she sighed. “So what? …Ahh, must be this crazy smoke I’m inhaling, or blood loss.” Freya chuckled and began cursing everything she could think of, just for the sake of letting a few course words vent out of her system. She was also starting to become very hungry.

“Haven’t eaten in hours,” she remarked as she touched her stomach. A sudden eclipse of the sun broke all her previous thoughts, and the woman looked up to see what the matter was. The day was not going to turn stormy, and a total eclipse over Madain Sari wouldn’t happen for a few years, and Erin wasn’t so crazy that she would fly a few airships overhead--so what was it? The glinting rays of the sun overhead blocked the obstruction, but what Freya could make out didn’t seem all that friendly.

Freya was still shielding her vision when the obstruction landed on the ground, even though there was now nothing covering up the sun. Her eyes could barely gaze at whatever was before her, so bright were the rays emanating from it. She could barely see that the creature had a bipedal build, probably humanoid, but that was it. It glowed brighter than the hottest flames--if Freya didn’t know any better, she would have sworn that this was what the being was made out of.

“What are you?” she asked. The creature’s voice was as powerful as its owner was bright.

“Fear not, Burmecian! I have come to you as a beacon of warning, to steer you away from these dangers you face now!”

“That doesn’t exactly answer my question,” she muttered. The creature issued out a soft humming sound, and the radiation of light surrounding it dimmed considerably. When Freya could get a good look at it, she was astonished to find that the being defied anything that she could really describe. Its body was made out of something similar to fire, hence the glowing, and its head seemed to radiate something like a rainbow. The creature was covered in white, and wielded a flaming sword in one of its “arms”.

“I am the Metatron,” said the creature, “the earpiece of my masters. I listen and obey, and in turn, I am sent out as a herald to relay my masters’ wishes to others. It is unfortunate that my master is not in this area himself; otherwise, he would attend to you personally.”

“Metatron…?” whispered Freya. “…You mean… you’re an angel?”

“Of a kind,” answered the creature. Freya stared at the brilliant creature in awe, and though it gave her word to not fear, she couldn’t help but quiver before its presence.

“Then, you have been sent from the Heavens to warn my group? Have you been sent to warn us of the dangers of Iudicium’s hideout?”

“No, Burmecian. It is by Iudicium’s word that I come here, to steer you away from this pursuit. Turn back now, while you still can, and you may be spared his judgment.”

“Ah, I understand it now!” growled Freya as she whipped her spear out. “You are not an angel of Heaven, but a demon! Yes, I remember now! The Metatron was a fallen angel, was it not?” A pause. The flaming creature before her said nothing for a very long time.

“That is correct,” it replied. “But nevertheless, I will aid you if you agree to leave. I will destroy you, however, if you remain behind. I don’t think I need to remind you that to do battle with an angel, especially the Metatron, is a gruesome mistake. Even the man I call master does not have the capabilities to destroy me.”

“So then why--”

“It serves Our purpose,” answered Metatron quickly. Freya scowled grimly at the “heavenly” being and bared her teeth at it. She knew what the creature meant when it said those words.

“I see,” she growled. “I suppose this ‘purpose’ of yours is very similar to what Necron wanted to achieve a few years back.”

“Necron was a weak, frightened, sick little child,” replied Metatron coolly. “He was but a servant of Death, not even skilled enough to mimic his own master. I, on the other hand, was given the privilege of commanding Death--the angel, I mean. Compare, then, what I say, and what you know of this Necron, and you will reason that escape is the best solution.”

“I cannot do that,” said Freya emptily as she held her spear in a defensive position. Metatron silently gazed at her, or so it seemed, and advanced slightly as it gave her one last chance.

“Why?”

“Because I’m bloody stubborn, all right?! Jeez, do I need to answer for everything I do?!?!”

“You might.”

“And do shut up,” groaned Freya. “Of course I don’t stand a bloody chance against you! You think I don’t know that? If I had any other choice, any choice at all, I would take it. But if it’s between running away and being destroyed by you, well then… my soul is prepared.”

“You had your chance,” replied the creature in what might have been a sigh. “One way or another, I will get you to leave this continent and abandon your search. And as the Father Below has said, ‘If reason fails, then force prevails’. En guarde!” Freya braced herself for the collision with Metatron, and although she really did know that she could not win, she still held her ground, with the same stubbornness and pride that had defined her all of her life.

Well, time to bow out of this little play, she muttered to herself. It’s been fun, but it looks like this is my last call. Ah, well. I’ll be dying in combat, and soon, I’ll be with all the people that I love. Yes, I may leave Beatrix behind--or, I may not. She may very well join me in death. If that’s the case, then I have no regrets. Dying will be but a privilege--that is, if I’m allowed it. I’m not going down without a fight, no matter who this is!

Metatron suddenly struck first, slamming into Freya with its fiery fist. The dragoon bowled over from such an overwhelming attack, barely able to breathe or even think straight. That one single blow had felt like a wrecking ball slamming into her! But the pain did not stop there: Metatron slammed its elbow against Freya’s back as she crumbled to the floor, sending her crashing to the ground and digging up a massive hole in the process. But even then, the fallen angel had not finished with her, and with its flaming body rising high up into the air, it stretched its arms out and spewed forth a purifying fire to scorch the land into oblivion.

Freya’s body had been beaten to the point of madness already, yet these were only two blows she suffered. Still, she was completely unable to move, not even to wiggle. Yet the flames were mercilessly falling towards her, and unless she wanted her bones to be melted into powder, she would have to summon strength she didn’t know she had, and leap out of the small crater. With her entire body in pain, from both the powerful attack and the impact on the ground, Freya somehow managed to put all her might into a single bound, and leaped just whiskers away from the column of flame as it crashed down on the ground.

Ignoring the stabbing agony in her gut and backside, she scurried along as far away from the fire as her feet could carry her. Metatron grudgingly noticed that the woman had escaped death through some extreme miracle, and ceased his inferno to give her chase. Infinitely faster, the blazing creature of dark light shot down to the ground and landed directly in front of Freya, the blazing sword in its hand begging for a battle.

“We meet again,” it spoke. Freya snarled at the creature, and with most of her muscles singing out in pain, she managed to produce her Dragon’s Whisker spear. The legendary weapon was coated with an ether that rendered it indestructible, even to the attack of an angel, but it was no guarantee that the holder would be so strong.

She held her spear up in defense as Metatron’s blazing-hot sword crashed down upon her. It took every last fiber of Freya’s strength, and some new sources she never thought she had, just to keep the blazing blade from splitting her face apart. Metatron looked somewhat bored, though since the creature had no face, it was hard to pick out an emotion. Their lock lasted for a few seconds more before Freya took a step forward and performed a backflip-kick aimed straight at Metatron’s “head”.

She twirled in the air and struck what seemed to be the creature’s face, sending it tumbling backwards a few steps. Even if she did nothing but stun the creature, it bought her precious seconds to recover and form her own attack. Without any mercy at all, Freya bounded forward and swung her spear in a downward angle, attempting to cleave the monster apart at the shoulder. Metatron’s recovery was quick, and his weapon met hers in an effortless defense.

The two flew into a fanatical frenzy of attacks, lunging and storming at each other without any care for their own safety. The Heavens trembled as one of its fallen stars assaulted a mere Burmecian, pounding away at everything she had to offer with its mighty sword of fire. Metatron’s power was immense, like having a large building smash up against Freya’s defenses over and over again, yet its speed was equally lethal, as fast as the speed villainy took when it conquered the mind of an intelligent creature.

Metatron lit the sky up with fire as he continued to attack Freya over and over, again and again, with every strike and slash and cleave and swipe. The monster was out of control yet very much in control; it danced and weaved and twirled the sword in the air like an artist would twirl a paintbrush before their masterpiece. The ground did indeed become colored in Freya’s blood from time to time, as a few stray embers from Metatron’s sword popped and sizzled and scorched Freya’s fur.

The dragoon, on the other hand, was fighting more ferociously than she had ever thought possible. Not even during her last days in Burmecia had she battled with so much animalism and determination, and in that fight, she had given her very soul just to survive. Not even her battle with Vikar Iudicium had been so intense, and she had given everything she had and more in that fight. But this was different.

Somehow, Freya’s skills could increase after every desperate battle. Her speed, strength, stamina, even her strategy would grow by leaps and bounds after such mindless, ferocious battles. She had fought brave and true in her fights with Beatrix, and in the endless war against Kuja and Garland; there was the Burmecian battle, and those two times where she struck at Beatrix with mindlessness and desperation, and the battle with Iudicium, and all the most recent fights where she had faced dreadful opponents.

Freya was literally at the very top of her game in this fight, thrusting her spear in so many ways to protect her life and to make an attempt to end that of her opponent. She made good use of the powerful muscles in her legs, and twirled her arms around to synchronize perfectly with the weapon that she had mastered. Her body moved like water, graceful and smooth, probably the after-effect of the years training as a Cleyran dancer. Every last skill that she had ever learned, plus a few new ones she was making up right then, were being employed just to keep her pulse going for a few seconds more.

But even when she was performing at her full capacity, Freya Crescent could barely match skills with this dreaded new foe. She anticipated Metatron to be just as powerful as Iudicium--no, more so, perhaps--and though she fought ten times harder then than she ever had, she was still being defeated no matter what.

Metatron was too much for her. The angel swung, cleaved, sliced, and smashed its sword against the spear of Freya numerous times, relentlessly letting his weapon crash against the legendary tool like a statue would crash up against a blade of grass. Had it not been for the ether coating protecting her tool, Freya would have died long ago, for such power as Metatron’s was beyond overwhelming.

Slowly, she was being pushed back as Metatron continued to hack away at her with his sword. The monster was unforgiving in its attack, not even allowing Freya a few measly seconds to pause and breathe, let alone think of a strategy. The Burmecian could only respond to its attack and nothing more: respond, the sword’s crashing down, block, try to swing, here it comes again, crash, block, it was closer that time.

Straddling the path with its mighty legs of fiery pillars, Metatron threw its mighty sword at Freya again and again, coming so fast that she could barely get close to it anymore, and soon she was injured across her forehead and on her hand and feet. The wounds were enflamed and burned, and Freya found herself growing weaker and weaker as the attacks progressed. Metatron, sensing victory, moved closer to hack its sword at Freya again and again, over and over, mindlessly onward, so that Freya could barely even hold her spear up after a few minutes.

The endless seconds turned into minutes, the minutes became grueling hours, until half the day passed them by. Little by little, Freya was giving ground, the demon coming closer and closer, the sword crashing upon her faster and faster, harder and harder. She was almost overcome by the smoky stench coming from Metatron’s fire, and as the blood dripped down her forehead, she could barely see well enough to parry the attacks. Even after all that time, Freya had not even come close to wounding her seemingly-unstoppable enemy.

As she took yet another step backwards, Metatron flew into the air and slammed hard on the ground, causing such a rumble that the ground quaked open, even producing an endless void of a crater in the ground. The vibrations threw Freya off balance, sending her to the ground and dangerously close to the yawning chasm. Metatron gleefully moved even closer, and with a great sweep of its flaming wings, buffeted Freya and sent her spear flying. The gust sent the dragoon skidding towards the dark crevice that had opened up, and a final blast nearly sent her plummeting into the depths.

Freya’s claws were what saved her. Using her Burmecian genetics to her advantage, she grasped the edge of the pit with all her might, creating a few scars in the earth as she struggled to keep herself alive. Metatron slowly walked over to where she was hanging, carfully observing the precarious position she was in. With what appeared to be a sigh, it regarded its unworthy opponent with sad disdain, and made a clicking sound.

“Tsk… you could have avoided this humiliation, Burmecian. If only you had left when you still had the chance…” Freya was too weak to say anything; she had put all of her concentration into hanging onto the crevice. The angel slowly walked right over to the crevice, and with its feet covered with heavy bronze and fire, it slowly began to crush and burn Freya’s fingers.

The dragoon howled out in pain as her poor digits became smashed under the immense weight of the angel’s bronze feet, and what was not crushed was burned from the powerful radiating flames. Metatron’s cruelty seemed to last for hours on end, and when the demon finally stepped away, Freya’s fingers were so weak that she was barely strong enough to hold paper in them, let alone her own body weight. Tears flowed out of her eyes as she forced herself to cling onto the earth.

“And now,” hissed Metatron as it raised its flaming saber, “you will die. There will be some momentary discomfort, and then you will experience a falling sensation. That should be all.” The angel seemed to grin, and raised its sword high into the air, aiming its blazing blade at Freya’s exposed fingers.

The tears that were coming out of her eyes increased as she realized that this time, there would be no escaping the hug of Death.

But as Freya wept, she noticed that her spear had been blown miraculously close to the edge of the crevice. If she could just escape and grab it, perhaps…

Putting pain on the side, for her crushed fingers sang out terribly and her whole body was wracked with agony, Freya put every last bit of strength left in her soul into her hands, and with a push that would shock the thunderous clouds above, she leaped out of the chasm and once again found safe ground. Without wasting a breath, Freya did a cartwheel, grabbed her spear, span around fiercely, and used her gathered strength and momentum to inflict a single, powerful strike upon her foe.

With an explosion more powerful than a volcano, the Dragon’s Whisker sliced through Metatron, from the middle of his left arm to its right hip. Metatron appeared to stare at Freya in horror as its body was sliced apart, and without a single sound uttered, the three pieces of the fallen angel slowly tumbled into the gaping canyon that had almost swallowed Freya.

And then, Metatron began to scream.

Freya was able to stand up just long enough to watch Metatron’s destroyed body plummet deep into the chasm, where even its flames were doused out by the unfathomable darkness below. Her emerald eyes made sure that the light was gone, and her pointed ears made sure that no more screams would come from the throat of the fallen angel. Metatron truly had been an unstoppable force; it literally took more than Freya had to offer to destroy it, and in the process, the dragoon had came closer to death than during any other stage in her life, even during that dark hour where she contemplated suicide.

Back then, Death merely brushed up against her; here, it was directly in front of her face.

But with the indomitable threat now extinguished forever, Freya could rest at long last. Too weak to do anything else, she crumbled to the grassy ground and managed to smile as thoughts of her loved ones passed through her mind. She wondered how dear Zidane and dear Garnet were, and what became of Steiner and the crew of the Hilda Guarde. She even thought about Amarant, perhaps in passing fancy only, and of Cid and Quina and everybody else.

She thought of her mother and father, gathering up only her own personal images of them, since she had been too young to remember their faces. She thought of her dear uncle Ficher, and how he took her in when she had nobody. And of course, she thought of those closest to her heart, Fratley and Beatrix. Freya let out a sigh: to die would reunite her with her beloved, but to live would ensure her companionship with Beatrix. She certainly had a lot going for her, this dragoon who had finally fought her soul out and more. Freya knew just how many people cared for her and loved her; she would not be forgotten at all.

However, she would faint, and with thoughts of Fratley and Beatrix on her mind, this is what she did. The very last thing Freya saw before her eyes closed was a cloud, resembling a daisy a little bit.

General Beatrix Francine de Alexandria had a lot on her mind as the Red Rose flew towards Esto Gaza. The main thing was, of course, the battles before her, and perhaps even further still, her last images of Freya and Steiner tickled her psyche. As a warrior who was used to being in the thick of battle, or trying to avert some crisis or another, she rarely had time to truly think things over like that. Perhaps this was just one reason why she bonded so easily with Freya: the other woman was almost always in thought.

Beatrix likened the mousy woman to a sister of hers; their bond ran deeper the oceans, and went back so far that even their combined memories had failed to dig it out. It truly was a strange predicament that had caused them to separate, and then to meet again, and then to discover each other after so long. This overwhelming feeling never was lost on Beatrix; even after all this time, she found it hard to believe that at one point, she and Freya were strangers at best, and at worst, enemies.

She can take care of herself, reasoned the lady. I don’t need her to hold my hand all the time. She has Eiko and Mikoto with her, and then there’s Steiner, who’ll be in Conde Petie before long, so I have no reason to worry, except over my own condition. Darn… I hate it when I have nothing to do. I wasn’t genetically made to be a thinker.

To try and pass the time a little easier, Beatrix paced around the Red Rose, taking in the sce