Here we go with Part Two … thanks for all the feedback!
By Kate
Treno was, as always, busy. Amarant thought it a funny city; the way the nobles and the criminals could be found in the same places, on the same streets. He trailed behind Freya and Fratley, looking around surreptitiously, ever-silent. He had made it his way to observe, and had developed an extraordinary sense of perception.
He watched Freya and Fratley in front of him and was suddenly struck by the feeling that existed between them. They were walking closely enough to appear together, but not touching, and both walked with a resigned step. Amarant knew something was wrong, with either of them, with both of them. He said nothing.
They arrived at Doctor Tot’s house. Freya knocked at the door, softly at first, then loudly when no one came to answer it. There was a brief sound of fluttering, then the door opened to reveal Tot.
"Hello!" Tot greeted. "What brings you here? Hopefully there’s not more trouble…"
"No," Freya assured him quickly. "I was just wondering if you could help me with something."
"Oh!" Tot was visibly relieved. "Come in, come in!" he urged, adjusting his eyeglasses as he motioned for them to come forward. The four of them went upstairs.
"You’re the only person I thought of that might be able to help," Freya confessed.
"What’s the problem?" Tot asked.
"It’s him," Freya pointed to Fratley. "He’s lost all of his memories. He can’t recall anything about his past. Almost his entire life is erased." Her voice became slightly cracked. "I want to know if you can make him remember."
"Oh!" Tot jumped up and down, wings fluttering. "Memory loss – amnesia – is a difficult thing to cure, Freya. Will you, ahem, allow me to observe him?"
Freya turned to Fratley. "Is that all right?"
"Yes," Fratley said.
"It should only take a little while," Tot said to her. His voice was as reassuring as it could possibly be. "And, uh, I will need no distractions. Will you and Amarant please go and return in a couple of hours?"
"Okay," Freya agreed.
*
"So what do you think?" Freya asked Amarant when they were outside.
Amarant sighed. He could be nothing but honest. "I think we’ll have to wait and see what happens."
She looked at him crossly. "You could be a bit more optimistic."
He suddenly felt sorry. Her face was composed, her posture was straight, but he could tell from her eyes that she was near tears. He realized that Tot was probably her only hope in getting Fratley’s memory back. "You care for him a great deal, don’t you?"
"Yes." Freya shook her head. "But I wouldn’t expect you to understand."
Amarant was stung by her words, but kept a bland, icy expression. "Why not?" he asked.
She lifted her shoulders lightly. "Forgive me, but have you ever cared about anyone?"
"Not really."
"See my point?" she asked callously.
"I suppose," he said wearily. He reminded himself to be patient with her; her mood was due to the stress she was under. He felt somewhat obligated to make her feel better, even if such feelings were fleeting and ultimately meaningless. "We shouldn’t just stand here and argue until Tot has finished."
Freya sighed, then nodded. "You’re right. Sorry."
"Let’s just walk around until we can go back," he suggested.
"Okay."
They walked together in peaceful silence, bathed in the lights of Treno. The streets were unusually empty; there was probably a big auction going on. It was oddly pretty – the near-empty city of winding brick pathways and dim, glowing lights, where it always seemed to be night.
Amarant was mentally berating himself for deciding to come with her; it had brought nothing but undue strife. He would have been much better off playing cards in Alexandria and winning more money. They passed by the card tournament.
"Do you think we should play for a while?" Freya asked, almost reading his thoughts.
"You play cards?" he replied with some surprise.
"Yes. I’m pretty good."
"Oh, okay. Not as good as me, though," Amarant added.
Now Freya wore a bemused expression. She lifted her hat up so he could see the doubt and amusement in her eyes. "Want to play me, then? If you’re as good as you say, it should be an easy win."
"I don’t play unless I can win something."
"Really." Freya looked away, as if to dismiss his words. "Then we’ll make a bet."
"How much?"
"Uh-uh," Freya said. "No money."
"Then what?"
"If you win," she explained, "I owe you a favor. Anything, to be called upon at anytime you wish. But if I win, then I get a favor from you. Anything, to be called upon at anytime I wish."
Amarant considered for a moment. It sounded harmless enough, and her voice did sound a little more cheerful. "Agreed."
Freya extended her claw. "Shake on it."
Amarant shook and the game began. He was surprised; she was a solid player. Her cards weren’t particularly good, but she used them well, and the game was tied with two moves remaining – his, and then hers.
Amarant played his last card, flipping over three of hers in a combo. He looked up and saw the pained expression on her face. "Don’t feel too bad," he said archly. "No one can beat me."
Freya glanced up at him, then a devious little smile appeared on her face. She played her last card, deliberately putting it down slowly, then watched his reaction as she flipped over four of his in a second combo. "Spoke too soon," she said lightly, triumphantly. "Six-four, I win. Looks like I’ll be calling in that favor sometime soon."
"Best two of three?" Amarant offered.
"No way."
Amarant stared at the cards laid out, his eyes narrowing. Losing was difficult for him to accept, even in something as paltry as a game of cards. "Let’s get back."
*
Tot turned when he saw Freya and Amarant walk through the door. "You’re back!" he exclaimed. "What perfect timing. I just finished moments ago. Fratley’s in the other room."
"And?" Freya pressed.
"It’s a strange case indeed," Tot admitted. "I questioned him, and he can’t seem to recall anything. Most documented cases of amnesia feature patients who recall something in place of the lost memories, like a fictional memory, or even an image or the essence of a color. Sir Fratley seems to have gone completely blank."
"Oh," Freya said defeatedly.
"I spoke to him already, and he agreed. I am going to try and hypnotize him, see if I can extract some of the memories that might be buried beneath."
"Hypnosis?" Freya said with disbelief. "With all due respect, I don’t think…"
"I know it sounds like foolishness," Tot interrupted, "but it has been known to work in extreme cases. I think this one would apply."
"Let him try, Freya," Amarant said quietly. "There’s no harm in trying."
Freya opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. She bowed her head in wordless assent. The three of them went into the other room, where Fratley sat waiting on a chair.
"Ready?" Fratley asked.
"Yes," Tot said. "I need you to relax. To calm yourself. Be as calm as you can, do not think of anything but what I am saying to you. When you come into the state of hypnosis, say whatever comes to you. Whatever you recall or may feel it necessary to tell us."
Then Tot bent closer to him and began to whisper words in a strange, rhythmic language neiher Freya nor Amarant had heard before. It was low and soothing, almost like chanting. When Tot stood back, Fratley sat staring blankly at nothing, his eyes lifeless and black.
For a long while, no one spoke.
"I don’t think it worked …" Amarant began.
"He is strong," Fratley said suddenly, interrupting. His eyes were wide and unblinking, and the voice that came out of his mouth wasn’t his own.
"Was that …?" Freya whispered.
"Zorn’s voice," Amarant said flatly.
"Strong, he is," said Fratley in a similar, disconnected voice.
"And Thorn’s voice," Freya added. "How is this … possible?"
"Quiet," said Doctor Tot. "The ways of memory are often inexplicable. The mind is capable of mimicry. But listen, I think he is remembering something important – perhaps how his memory was lost?"
"Aid Burmecia, he may be able to do," Fratley said in his trance-like state. Zorn’s voice, again. Fratley stared straight ahead for a few minutes, saying nothing.
Freya bent over him with concern. "Do you think he’s…"
"You fools!" Fratley shouted loudly, causing Freya to stumble backwards in surprise. The voice that exited his mouth this time was even more creepy – harsh, resonant, and decidedly female.
"Brahne?" Tot said in astonishment.
"There’s no need to worry about him," Fratley continued in Brahne’s voice. His facial expressions mimed those of the late queen’s, and he perfectly captured the disdainful quality of her voice. "I have someone to take care of him."
"Who …?" Freya said breathlessly.
"I’m here," Fratley said in a new, different voice. "Is this him?"
"Kuja." All three of them – Freya, Amarant, and Tot – said it in unison. They waited breathlessly for Fratley to speak again, but, after a while, it became apparent that he was done speaking.
Tot went up to Fratley and gently shook him awake. Fratley’s eyes blinked, then regained their normal life. "Do you remember what you just said?" Tot asked gently.
"No," answered Fratley. He looked from Freya to Amarant to Tot, then back to Freya again. "Nothing."
"It was Brahne who did it," Freya said dully. "Brahne and Kuja. I don’t believe this."
Tot took her aside. "I’m sorry," Tot said comfortingly. "There’s nothing else I can do for him. If he ever regains his memory, it will by his own terms, and by grace. All you can do is help him through it."
Freya sniffed, dangerously close to crying. She hugged Tot for a moment, then stepped back. "Thank you, anyway. I will try."
*
That’s all for now. Part 3 should be along soon. I know this was a bit of a depressing chapter, but the story itself is a bit depressing. I feel sad just writing it. Maybe I’ll go write something happy now ;).