PERSISTENCE OF MEMORY (Part Three)

by Kate

*

Steiner was patrolling Alexandria as he did nearly every night. A long time ago, he had found such duty tedious and pointless, but now he found simple joy in protecting his kingdom without having to resort to violence. He had come to realize that perhaps his sword wasn’t so necessary – yet he was long from the day he would lay it down.

The sounds from the bar were particularly loud that evening. Steiner decided to duck in for a moment, just to see if everything was all right. Often, the patrons became too rowdy and would start smashing things. He poked his head in through the door and was surprised to see his friend Amarant sitting at the counter.

The bar was a low, dirty establishment, filled with thieves and vagrants. The entire place looked dark and wet with rainwater. Steiner wondered why his friend would frequent such a place, but he opted to let it go. He walked up to Amarant. "I thought you were in Treno."

Amarant threw his back and downed half his drink. "Got back an hour ago."

"Oh." Steiner sat down beside him. "Any reason you came here?"

"No."

Steiner frowned. He couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but something was wrong with Amarant. He seemed almost … depressed. "Are you feeling well?" Steiner asked.

"Fine."

"All right." Steiner shrugged. He would have to accept Amarant’s indifference. "How have you been?"

"Just perfect. How are you?" Amarant said without looking at him.

Steiner blinked at the turnaround, but decided to try and start a real conversation with Amarant anyway. "I’ve been wonderful. Things seem much … better … than they’ve ever been. I can’t really explain it."

Amarant smirked knowingly. "How is Beatrix?"

"She’s fine," Steiner said happily. He leaned closer to Amarant, conspiratorial. "Queen Garnet is a lovely girl. All of my knights love the sight of her, and half the men in the kingdom are in love with her. But, me … well, for me, there’s something to be said for fighting women."

"Yeah." Amarant took another heavy sip of his drink, then slammed the glass down at the bar to indicate that he wanted another. He suddenly felt saddened, downhearted, and he desperately wanted Steiner to leave him alone. He wanted the sweet, numbing comfort of solitude. "There certainly is."

* * *

"And that’s all he said in Kuja’s voice. Not a word after." In Alexandria Castle, Freya was finishing the story of what had happened in Treno while Fratley slept. Zidane, Garnet, and Eiko were her audience.

Zidane was stunned. "So it was Kuja that did it?"

"Yes," Freya answered heavily. "Kuja and Brahne. I don’t know why, or how. Perhaps they figured the best way to keep him from defending Burmecia would be to give him no reason to do it. To make him forget about his allegiances."

Zidane nodded. Her theory was logical. "Fratley was pretty powerful, wasn’t he?"

"He is yet," Freya said quietly. She folded her hands in her lap, obviously distressed.

Eiko jumped up, eager to join the conversation and cheer up Freya. "Look, Freya," she said. "He still remembered it, didn’t he? He can’t be that far gone if he could remember something, even if he was hypnotized or whatever."

"And he still came to our rescue when we were in Cleyra. It must mean something is still within him," Zidane added, speaking more to himself than to anyone else. "What else did Doctor Tot say?"

Freya sighed. "He said there’s nothing more he can do. Fratley may regain his memory in time, and he may not. I only have to help him as best I can."

Zidane looked at her solemnly. "I’ll help you as best I can, Freya."

"So will I," added Garnet.

"Me, too!" exclaimed Eiko. "Whatever I can do, I’ll do it."

A little smile touched her face. She looked at the three of them with genuine gratitude, glad of the friendships she was so lucky to have. In many ways, she was much more fortunate than some. "Thank you."

* * *

Fratley was dreaming, tossing a bit roughly. Freya was watching him solicitously, concernedly, when his eyes flickered open, first confused as he gained his bearings, then relieved as he saw her face.

"Dreaming?" she whispered.

"Yeah." He looked up at her, still fuzzy from sleep. "Freya…"

His tone was strange. "Yes?"

"Do you know anything about a silver chain?"

Her eyes assumed a guarded expression. "Why?" she asked carefully.

Fratley struggled for a minute to sit up, then folded his hands, studying them intently. "I saw one in my dream. I saw lots of things, really, but the chain was the only one I didn’t recognize."

Freya’s hands went to her throat, and she slowly pulled a hidden necklace from beneath her red coat. "Was this it?" she asked, scarcely breathing. If he remembered it…

"Yes."

"You gave it to me. Before you left."

Fratley blinked, at a loss. "I … did?"

"Yes." She reached around and unclasped it, regarding it thoughtfully. "You did. You told me I was strong, that I would not cry … and that you would come back for me."

"Oh."

Freya pocketed the chain and smiled at him. "Go back to sleep."

*

She felt … wonderful. Fratley had remembered the chain, in a dream. That meant it was all there, somewhere – she only had to dig and push and pry it out. Freya looked at feet with gentle amusement. She seemed not to be walking at all, but floating a tiny distance above the ground.

"Why are you smiling?"

Freya looked up from her feet, feeling a little foolish. Amarant was standing in front of her, but he looked strange. He was wobbling a bit in front of her, and his eyes were glassier than usual. He was twining his fingers together again and again, probably not realizing it.

Freya stared at him incredulously for a moment, then she began to laugh. "Amarant … have you been drinking?"

"Yes. I am not not drunk, however."

She lifted an eyebrow, doubtful. "Sure, whatever. Guess what happened?"

"What?" Amarant asked dryly.

She ignored his tone. "Fratley remembered something. This," she added, bringing out the chain from her pocket. "He gave it to me a long time ago. That means … he could remember other things."

Amarant sighed. "Good, Freya. But don’t get your hopes up."

"Pardon?" she asked in disbelief.

"I said…"

"No." She held up a claw to stall his words. "I heard you. I only could not believe you could be so unfeeling."

Amarant motioned calmingly. "You are allowing your hopes and fears and feelings to guide you against your judgement. I only believe it may be best not to …" he tried to explain.

She stood up and faced him fully, her anger spilling over into madness. "And what the hell do you know what’s best?" she screamed, her voice rising into a wail. "You don’t even have any feelings!"

Amarant was stone. "That’s only what you think." He glared at her for a few minutes more, then turned around. "I do not want you to be hurt, but if you think it necessary to set yourself up to fall, then be my guest. Goodnight, Freya."

She listened to his footsteps echo and fade until they were no longer audible, then she fell into her chair and stared, unseeing, at the wall. In her claw was the chain, and she fidgeted with it nervously. She didn’t know how to feel – happy for what had happened with Fratley, or angry for what had happened with Amarant.

*

That’s it for today! Poor Freya; I just keep messing with her mind. Poor Amarant, too. Anyway, tell me what you think! This should extend for a couple more chapters.