fratley [https://i.vgy.me/xl13s1.jpg]

Our tendency is to become corpses. It's the task of living to make the dead any presentable.

This kind of thought travels my mind each time I fail with someone. For a world I can feel as the ink belonging to a portrait, I can't touch a face. Just hear and count how many muscles are being used for a smile, a frown, a shout, a whisper... Glumness apart, only a man to give a name for things. A man who lives, who haven't grown older and colder like a stone. Right, Hrist?... Hrist? Oh, she's gone. I had been walking home alone, didn't even perceived. She talks a lot, but today stood quiet most the time. Only her scent remained, despite the rain. Heavy or soft, it leaves not only a peculiar scent, but as well a need of drinking water. I need more than water to bring relief to my soul. More than a hug to break bones. I have no doubt April shares of her own strenght, but don't forget she's kind too. Too much kind, the one you don't see around, or even feel.

— OUCH! – all of sudden, I hear a kid shouting. I know who it is, and that worries me a lot than it should.

— Raymie? – I asked, looking to the direction of the shout. Frogs coach and dragonflies buzz on a marsh covered by tall grass.

— Hi, Frattie – said Raymie, standing on the marsh. There's no risk of drowning, or for being eaten by a pike, which makes me wonder why – Ooh, ooh, Ouch! Hnng!... – his legs shaked violently, rippling the muddy water's surface.

— What are you doing here, Raymie? – something in the kid's hands writhe like a worm being hit by sunlight. Raymie carried a pot on his left hand, full of water, and full of these things – please don't tell me that you are-

— Collecting leeches? – he said just in time – I'll make quite a bunch, I tell ya!

— Where are your brothers?

— Argh!... Danny and Ingus are hunting Basilisks. Mom took Phoebe and Archie to the market fair.

— Nobody home?

— Uh huh.

— And you're hunting leeches.

— Well, in this case... Ai, ai!... they hunt me – Raymie put his hand on the water, to which he took another leech, and raised it to the skies – but I am the hunter, at all!

— Who's watching you?

— Danny was.

— And where is he?

— Hunting basilisks with Ingus.

— I'll speak with Danny.

— He doesn't care.

— Why not? He's your brother.

— There, Frattie. You said it – now I perceive that Raymie isn't doing it all for fun. After all, you need blood to move your legs – just kept watching, got bored. Danny don't let me aim at their heads, neither Ingus. Here I am, tomorrow I'll be rich! Gonna sell these, urgh... leeches. Lots and lots of 'em!...

— At what cost, Raymie? – I can't tell the kid that leech collectors aren't well paid, even if it's the right thing.

— AAAH! – but when he shouts like that, I don't feel like standing and watching – you see... I am doing something... important...

— Enough, Raymie – so I approach, walking above the water's surface, and I take Raymie with me. I haven't holded him like this since he was that little. Pretty heavy, but that's the least of my worries. His legs are full of those red 'y' marks.

— Uh... Frattie... – a sleepy voice comes out Raymie's mouth, which once shedded of a huge smile. That hand holded tight the pot.

— Let's go home – he lost too much blood, and if I don't do something, maybe his life – there, I'll prepare an antidote.

— No... I hate needles.

— Just don't look.

— Easy for you. I already looked – out the many scary things in my room, Raymie is afraid of needles. I too, since I feel them by the tips.

— It won't hurt – that's what I choose to say. It might not be enough. It's what every father say to his son before they come to be injured.

— You're lying. Again – maybe I am. In place, I could have said 'it ain't the needle that hurts. It's the antidote's temperature which's different from the body', but then would Raymie understand my point? He sure understands a lot, except the way I feel things with my nose, my ears...

— Raymie... If I was lying, then I would be the one who's hurt.

— Well, aren't you?

— A bit – this boy ain't me, though I see a bit of myself in his – today was quite a day.

— A hard day? – I don't have the guts to tell Raymie what happened. Johnny, his wife, the body... It would be too much. Instead, I nod.

— Yes. A hard day. Know what there'll be for dinner, Raymie?

— Will I have a dinner? – out of many answers, he had to say it, while his eyes are dilating...

— You will. I swear, by heart – I shed a tear in Raymie's place, which fell upon his shoulder.

— I did something bad, didn't I? – I've been thinking about it in the way. Been trying to find an answer – I am too young, I know.

— No, Raymie. That's not it. Look... you knew the risks. By each bite. Please, don't do this ever again, for the love of your mother – following what I said, nothing was heard for a while. Only the rain, as always, and breathes. That heart... how it jumped. I even missed it's pattern, I'm not even bothered to. Raymie is looking at me, his whole body shaking. He thought I was going to shout to his. That's not how I am, he knows very well. A man who cries doesn't have time, or reason to leave shouts. He's already being heard. I am dissapointed, yes, but not angry. In fact, I am trembling together of this kid.

— Hey, Frattie...

— What is up, buddy? – something else bothered Raymie, other than his legs.

— Your cane – he said. The cane... I forgot it at the Jugend. Not the first time. I might have asked Hrist to give it back to me, but nothing else matters at the moment.

— I can make my way to the Jugend with Agartha. That spear is quite useful for it.

— No. That's not it – Raymie, Raymie... what is bothering you? You should only worry about your life. Well, guess he does not only care about his own – Frattie... without the cane, you're gonna tumble.

— Don't worry. Because of you, I won't trip.

...

[https://i.vgy.me/AncAqv.jpg]

At home. Finally.

It'll be a quick stay, but I'll come back. It's where I sleep with a ceiling upon mine, and without someone else, who to clean it? Not that I am fond of cleaning. Sure, I can do a lot of things, remember many faces, but when it comes to cleaning... it depends. I could hire someone to do it on my place, pay that person well, but that would only be it. Just paying someone to do the job, while I, well, I do my Dragoon's duty. Uh huh, as if you learned anything new by punching a tree. I can feel pain in other ways, too. I can ignore it as much as I want. And I... I... there's only me, isn't it? Don't think this way, with Jack at your side. He was kind enough to offer a dinner for you. A hand as well, but if he dares to feed me like a baby, I swear I'll grab that spoon and... please, Freya. Where are your manners? Your sense of humour?

She's at those days... how I hate this sentence. Whoever came up with it didn't knew anything about women. It's just a poor excuse for delimitating anger or any kind of strong emotion as being brought out of our pain felt in chest. As if it's the only way I am allowed to feel this way. Well, what would you feel after hitting a tree for so long, only for it to break your hands more than they did with the trunk? Not that I blame Fratley, or Edea, or the cherry tree. It's just that... a lot happened, that's it. I can't focuse on a thing or another, something feels off. Still I can't feel my hands, but somehow I am changing clothes. Stubborn like that... that's what Edea said, and she may be right. I won't leave the Jugend, the Dragoon, everything mom did because of my hands. I have yet to lose more than it.

I think I already lost too much.

— Are you ready, sis? – said Jack, at the other side of the door.

— Not yet – I said, wearing the lime dress in front of the mirror. I have tons of these in my wardrobe, and an only space reserved for the red one.

— Can I help you out? I mean, your hands-

— Thanks, but I can do it by myself, Jack – like I always did.

— Okay. So you know, Ottis will prepare the dinner.

— Does that make any difference?

— I think it does – good to know, though I haven't eaten anything made by Jack yet – so, how was your training?

— You saw my hands. That's how it went by – I dare to take a look at my hands, but like before, I just ignore it.

— Didn't they taught you any healing spells for consideration? – good question.

— I think Sir Fratley would, had he not left to attend the – that means he would wait me to bleed enough until he taught a way to heal wounds. I don't know if this makes me feel any comfortable. Just a thought, I don't need to feel any worse or better.

— And why did he left? I mean, there aren't tons of Dragoons around, but that doesn't mean Fratley is the only one.

— Captain Edea came in, and said something about him being good at words – to which I can agree.

— Good at words? When I knew Fratley, he could barely tell a thing that made sense. Like you, sis.

— It's hard to speak with a tail in your mouth.

— Hard for me to not have shouted everytime you did it so – said Jack, in a giggling tone.

— I didn't bite your for affection, so you know.

— Well, I had been asking for it. Also, did you said a thing about Edea?

— Do you know her? – I asked, while combing my hair with the claws. Careful to not scratch your head...

— Why, she holded you. I mean, you were this little. Ugly like a caecilian, but with time, you became adorable as it is – thanks? I have no reply for it – Edea was one of mom's friends. Barely made a visit, but when she could, she did.

— I can't remember her – an orange ribbon for the hair is in my hand. I don't think I'll need it. As for the one in my tail, it shares a lot that I can't let go – but, something in her face...

— Oh, that face? She had an awkward smile, so I remember.

— Smile?

— Yes. Serious people always seem to be frowning, don't you think?

— I think – then I looked at myself in the mirror, sitting on the bed. I do not frown everytime, and if I did, I wouldn't be making a serious impression. I would be wasting my time – don't know why, Jack, but Edea... when I saw her at first, she reminded me of dad.

— Dad?

— Yeah. That look, and nothing else. The look of someone who saw the worst – I said, to which Jack opened the door and sat at my side.

— The eyes are the door of entrance of the soul, like they say.

— Don't you mean the windows?

— Windows, doors... you close, as much as you let them open. I know a lot of people who share of same look you mentioned, sis. And only a few like dad to have someone amazing like mom and you at his side – I feel better when hearing these words. Moreso coming out of Jack.

— And what about you?

— Me? I was a troublemaker. Nothing good came out of me. I killed birds, but then I decided to stop. Killing Basilisks did more of a favor for everyone. Basilisks petrify children not for fun, but because they can. Now, I killed them for fun, and because I could. Like, there's evil, and the necessary evil. Understand?

— I think I do – it's like the old telling 'children can be so mean', but what kind of mean do they seek?

— So, are you ready?

— I am. Better be good.

— Haha. Of course it will, sis – he says it with such formality – I'll lend my hand for ya.

— It won't be needed, Jack. My hands... – so I showed my hands to Jack, after standing on my own. I knew there was something strange about those green lines Edea made. But this – they healed somehow.

— Well, forget about feeding you with a spoon (again).

— What did you said? – I heard a whisper coming out of Jack's mouth, saw it moving. He smiled for a brief moment. I'm not smiling.

— Uh, nothing, sis. Why don't we have dinner? – it ain't everyday that something is offered for free, Freya. Many wish they had a brother like yours.

— Fine – I said, before a quick smirk, blink and you may have lost it.

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♫Mogwai - Superheroes Of BMX♫

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...

July 19th, 1778

...

[https://i.vgy.me/tAvfMC.jpg]

Still winter?

By the window, nothing comes in, other than the acrid smell of each morning. Rain and a bug splash on a window. It must be amusing to hear them hitting the glass for someone who has nothing to do, which ain't my case. To be fair, I would break this window with a stone to have fun with myself, if not I was tasked to arrest those who break the law. The law is like a window; fragile, easy to be broken, but we need it. It's cold outside, I can feel chills in my spine, my body trembling, despite being covered in layers and layers of blankets. My day hasn't begun, and my teeth are gritting. I refuse to leave bed, even knowing I should. The clock at the counter keeps making that 'tick' noise, but it ain't as bad as knowing which hours are by listening to the church's bells. By bad, I mean when you get caught by surprise.

Either the bells of new life, or the bells of a life gone. What counts is the spirit, isn't it? I share of none at the moment. I mean, life has a blind sense in all things, or else, how come flowers flourish at the coldest of winters? They just do. They do not have a need to know, they just... grow. And you, on other hand, lets gravity pull your body upon this bed as the apple who falls out a tree. Not all apples that fall on earth are rotten, not all angels turn to devils. Sure, I can get out the bed without April's aid, but sometimes I let her and that flowery scent in. And so all my questions about laws are gone by her touch. Gone for a moment, soon as I recover my moral sense, intact as Raymie's legs. This if he doesn't stop running at stairs.

— My, my... Yesterday Raymie could barely walk, now he's here running.

— Good for him – running with a smile, shedding of same flexibity as his mother's frown – what's the matter? You have here someone who knows how to use medicinal herbs and the Dragoon very well when it comes to heal.

— That's not it, Fratley – said April, as I wore my clothes. Given her tone, and that she didn't slept last night – I mean, when I heard what happened to my son, I was worried to death. I knew something would happen as I stood out. Always happen. It's like as if I'm asking for it.

— Don't blame yourself, April. You can't be at two places at same time.

— I know. I even told Ingus to watch his brother. Where was he to watch Raymie?

— Kids are all independent, in a way.

— That doesn't mean they are free for doing whatever they want, even more something that brings harm. Simply knowing about danger doesn't mean it can be overcome at any time, at will, and now, seeing Raymie act reckless as this, after all... don't you ever felt a need to teach a lesson that stays? – I think it's still April to who I am talking, sitting at my side. She ain't of the kind that pinches ears, and I know very well when we can resist or not the temptation.

— To harm a kid will earn its attention, but not its respect. Now, if you want them to be taught respect... they just learn how to.

— In most cases, you mean.

— All of them, April. See, the law is here to force people to act in the right way, and ethic makes them act right without anyone looking. Also, I see nothing wrong with Raymie running around. It's a thing I would like to do by myself.

— Include the stairs, and you see what's wrong – I understand April's complains. Most the time I'm out home, taking care of bigger issues. Though, I can't let this one pass – well, anyone would give a slap in my place.

— I wouldn't.

— Then what do you suggest? Sit and talk doesn't seem to do that much.

— It's the better option. It's what we are doing – I said, between screams coming from the kitchen. In my case, an uproar followed of stomaches singing along the hunger dissionance. I focuse somewhere else, like into a blood-sucker mosquito's wings. I wonder what are the karmic implications of killing it with a slap. Well, that's not his blood, but mine. Then I heard a slight 'coo' coming out little Phoebe, crawling to my room. In this case, to her mother's arms – know, April... in order to see things like I do, first I learned how to speak.

— If we could talk to babies...

— We can taught them to – how are you doing, Phoebe? I look at her, and I wonder if she thinks I am playing hide and seek forever, even with the eyes open.

— If there's a thing I haven't been taught is to be able to fled the crib. This one wakes up whenever she wants, isn't it?

— Wait until she brings her boyfriend home.

— Someone with good taste, I expect.

— I may be able to hear Phoebe more than you can, but understand what she wants ain't same as what she needs.

— Isn't it a bit invasive? To hear someone from inside all time – April offers me that look of doubt. It ain't same as Phoebe, who is curious with the world around – don't you ever, uh...

— Feel ashamed? I do. Don't worry, April. I hear the body, not the mind – I try to stand up, sticking my arm to reach the hat. I think it's on my left, hanging on the hatstand. There it is – though, I agree it can be invasive, so here's my humbly apologies.

— Oh, you don't need to. I am fine. Am I?

\/\/\_/\/\_/\/\_/\/\/\_/\/\/\_

— Your heart says it all, April – it follows a pattern, but suddenly it jumps. Well, already expected of someone dissecated by my ears. Dissecated... what an innapropriate, though at same time, very appropriate to describe what I do with everything, and everyone.

...

[https://i.vgy.me/mlwUeL.jpg]

Second day at the Jugend.

— Good morning – and Hrist awaits for me at the entrance. I mean, who else would she await for? Looking like that, bored, ready for a fight.

— Good morning – soon as I come near her, I raise a fist, only to shake her hand. It's cold, like her sight.

— Your hand looks fine – she said, pressing it fiercifully.

— Is that all the strenght you shed of?

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

— If you want more, lemme know – I don't want. Letting go off that fist easily won't happen again.

— What I do really want to know is how my hand got healed, Hrist – I said, as we walked together inside the gates of Jugend.

— How would I know? You tell me – I showed my palms to Hrist, clean of any marks.

— I have no idea how it happened. All I know is that my hands were really bad injured, and Edea came in and sewed them. After a while, they came like this.

— So Edea only healed your hands after you almost lost them – shedding of hair and cynicism, that's Hrist. Lavender, too.

— I don't think she would-

— But she did. I said our tutors were mean before, Crescent. Heard me? – I heard, loud and clear.

— For someone you call mean, you get alongside Sir Fratley very well.

— A person can have more than a side. But don't get fooled – thinking about the reason Hrist has so many hair, I wonder what lies inside. I said her sight is cold, but I haven't looked at it.

— I know – she doesn't understand why I am smiling. Do not bother to ask if I am having a good mood. I think she wants to see the worst of me, but that's not right. What Hrist thinks of being her worst, too – despite this attitude, you are cute inside.

— Huh, inside? Am I missing something, because I live in reality.

— What is reality for someone who jumps buildings taller than trees?

— I can do more than jump, Crescent.

— Don't tell me you can walk in thin air – just a guess. And I can already hear an 'yes' coming out.

— Not really, but I can.

— Oh, Surface Tension, I see – even Hrist thinks it would be silly to walk in air, literaly without an explanation – I already saw you doing it.

— Wanna see even more, Crescent? – as if I had an option to choose between yes or no – look at this.

— A bubble? – that's a bubble Hrist blew out her breath, and hands shaped like a circle – better in hands than in your nose.

— Shut up. Your voice is disturbing the bubble – only the bubble? Which we saw floating away, not even falling in the ground, or bursted by a thick raindrop.

— Is that so? You can blow bubbles in the rain?

— What you were expecting? That I blew it in your eyes?

— Certainly you would, if you were a mean kid – I said, staring at Hrist.

— You look at me as if I was one.

— I can't forget.

— Neither I – Hrist can't look directly at my eyes for so long. The path below us seems to never end – like, I began the ragged cloth fashion.

— Fashion? This craze of yours?

— Craze?

— You had this craze to dismantle things, Hrist. If left alone, the whole house would be in shambles by your hands.

— I only use my hands to rip my coat, if that makes you feel any better.

— Still doing all this mess and calling it by art. Jump on bed, paint the wall, clean your muddy fingers with mom's dress while she was wearing it...

— Like you haven't done all of it, too – I knew how to clean myself with moss, on other hand – and you forgot the 'step on your foot' part.

— That wasn't a craze. You did that on purpose. To hurt.

— It was my way of showing affection.

— Uh huh.

— In other words, you are asking what was the point of showing my ability, right? – exactly, as you could tell by looking at my face – well, that bubble is far impressive than it looks like. They do not burst, only when I want them to – and with a snap of fingers, the bubble made by Hrist bursted in thin air, its remains falling upon grass.

— I heard something about mind over body, but this?

— Not impressive? If you allowed me to concentrate, I would make a bubble so big it would make you float above the whole Burmecia.

— Have you done it before?

— Yes. But I ran out of air. I do not reccomend doing it. Also, my eyes itched badly.

— From purple to red... – I left a smirk out. Don't know why.

— Don't make fun of me, Crescent.

— Oh, sorry – now I feel bad. It happens, unpleasant as it is to bite the tongue.

— I'll accept it. After all, you're so naive, which has its advantages.

— I wonder what are the advantages of making bubbles – other than bursting them at someone's eyes, I had no idea. But that was the least of my concerns – and, might if I ask how come you make them appear like this? I mean, from where the soap comes from? – I've been wondering about it by myself. Like, all bubbles I saw needed soap to be made – please don't tell me it was inside your skin.

— Nah. You're miles away from the truth – so Hrist began to explain about how she makes soap bubbles appear – in fact, it's soap that came out my body. Like, a pretty thing like me never sweats. Blergh!... Ok, a time and another, but not always. I'm not stinky, that medal should belong to... to...

— Me?

— No. As far as I can tell, you have a nice scent – I wonder if she only came with this answer right now. And why, since I wasn't expecting another one of those comparasions – now, don't expect hearing this out of Fratley.

— And don't except he's all yours.

— Huh? So you know, Fratley and I, we are friends. Nothing else. You can be his friend, too. To have someone at your side is way better than being left alone, bleeding at the toes. Don't you agree?

— I do. Now, tell me what's the deal with the soap – I never expected to hear this coming out of me. This is one of those things I likely would say about soap.

— Oh, that? We can do a lot of things with the Dragoon. So I create soap out of it.

— What!? Care to elaborate?

— I'm trying, Crescent. You see, it's too complex for me to explain every nook and cranny of Dragoon by a single word, or even define what it is. Fratley said it's an index of possibilities, or something like, while talking about the Dragoon. What was once impossible becomes possible; an idea awaiting for execution becomes an object to be used, so father told me. That might explain why your hands were healed after Edea sewed them with her lines, and as well why I can materialize the spiritual energy throught my body, and release it as materia, and-

— Spiritual SOAP!? Ah... Hah.. Hahahahahah... – like a bubble, I bursted. Into laughs, that might have echoed throught the whole Jugend. I... I... hahaha!... I just can't – hahah... couh, cough... wait, wait... you, you can't be serious – it only makes things funnier when she does.

— And you're the only one having fun with it – said Hrist, while some other eyes watched us. The indiferrence in their looks reminds me of the one belonging to statues.

— Heh... A whole lot of infinity possibilities, and you choose to make soap. But that's fine, Hrist. Like, whose child doesn't have fun playing with bubbles?

— You can laugh without teeth as one – then, something in Hrist's face changed. Same for her tone, and posture – though, I can't guarantee any beauty coming out of this vision, other than mine.

— Oh, please... – I said, without noticing something in that hair – stop throwing tantrums at me like spiders. Not all of them bite.

— But I do – the hair, like I said... it's the wind, I could tell, but there's no wind. Hrist's hair moved on its own, up her shoulders, as my legs refused to move. My whole body, paralyzed all of sudden – hey, why aren't you laughing? Well, guess I haven't told you that I can grow my hair as an extra limb. Wrap it around my hand in shape of a drill too!

For a moment, I looked to that thing, wrapping around her hand. Yes, a thing. That approached. Before it reached my chest, I took a backwards somersault. Despite the weight, I just had to. Or else, that hole... the ground exploded beneath me, some tiny pieces of stone reached to my face as dust. A few people stopped doing what they were doing, no, I think time as its entirety stopped at that moment. You know, Freya, the moment when your heart freezes from inside.

— W-what?... – I couldn't rationalize well, until I stood on my feet. Even with that power, I refused to kneel – the... THE HELL WAS THAT!?

— To hear this coming out of you is quite surprising. Did you liked it?

— Was I supposed to? – I asked, but that wasn't my only question. It's hard to speak, with the heart on the throat.

— Maybe. See, I can control my hair, choose any shape, but most the time I prefer to let it be as it is.

— Why... why haven't you told me about that?

— Everyone needs a secret technique, Crescent. And now that this is no more of a secret for you, perhaps... how can I explain? You know, there's a plant called Mimosa, known as well by or Touch-Me-Not. It's leaves retract when near water, heat, wind or by a hand's touch... but my Mimosa doesn't play safe. You should. Be glad that I left a hole in the ground.

— You wouldn't leave it on my clothes, would you? – why do I ask? Looking at that face, you already have a crystal clear answer.

— I can tear more than your cloth – in this way.

— Haven't you said it before?

— I may say it again, on training – funny. I'm accepting it all, like it's a thing that I see everyday, and it's only the first time. Everyone once here watched, and then they just walk as if nothing else happened. Well, not everyone.

— Your powers aren't meant to be used for fun, child – said Captain Edea, who stood in front of the door leading to the inside of the Jugend.

— It was a test.

— A 'test' that could have hurted a student.

— I knew Freya would deviate in time – uh huh...

— Well, speak that to the Headmaster.

— He'll understand – so Hrist followed Edea, as I stood here, without knowing where to go. Hearing those voices and steps echoing throught the corridor, I had no choice other than follow them.

— Only because you are his daughter does not mean you have any privileges.

— I know. Like, you knew I would dodge your spear, same for this neck.

— Don't play dumb with me, girl. You are old enough to know that, at the moment you agreed to become a Dragoon, anything can happen. No matter the pain felt, that's not the result to be attained. Also, what happens on training should stay on training.

— For sure. You can break all my body while teaching the Dragoon, as well as fix it with same. Checkmate.

— You say it as if I'm nullified of any complains.

— I meant to say compassion, Captain.

— I have feelings, child. And what I feel for you... it's hard to explain.

— It ain't love, right? – I have no descriptions to tell, because I already saw and heard same conversation. Yep, that's how Hrist talks to everyone, not a big surprise – you could smile, at least.

— I have no reason to – Edea said, with a serious posture and demeanor, which ain't the case of Hrist.

— Is it me?

— It ain't you, and none of your concern. Now, if you want to see a frown, I might try my best.

— Try later. Sit and talk is the best way of solving problems, don't you think?

— If it was, you wouldn't be a nuisance.

— Me, a nuisance? I can be nice, too.

— So be nice at repairing the floor outside, okay?

— Geez, a punishment already... Can I have company?

— My eyes will be watching you.

— A ball and chain would be better at keeping me in place.

— You can discuss with Ezekiel about that. As for you, Crescent – for a while, I've been walking and hearing the conversation of both. This until Edea turned to me – sorry for the inconvenience. Please await for Sir Fratley's arrival. He'll soon be there to train you, understood?

— Alright – I said. Be prepared for more tree punching, Freya.

— We know Fratley can walk around without a cane, Captain. It's just that he hates morning noises – and I wonder how he is able to tolerate you, Hrist. Well, she said noises, as if coming out a lot of people, and thought Hrist may be kinda annoying, she's one of her kind.

...

Nasty boy.

Cough. Nasssty. Like everyone. Everyone is flawed, cough! Flaws. I can't tell if that's the fisherman's hand, or the fish's scales taking all over his body, recomposing his structure. If that's how everything began, when a man and a rat fell on same puddle, similating each one's qualities. Cough! Each one's disease. Each one's job. Only men work to men. Rats bite men. Spread the disease, just like men. Ever since kid, like that nasty boy. Such a thing has a name, like everything, other than nasty. Puck, that's it. Very known around for its pranks, mischievous behavior. Just a bored kid. Disgusting, too. There aren't many kids around, for a whole lot of earth to be made a hole. Out the holes at ceiling, comes the cockroaches, rows of ants, and smoke. Deadly smoke. From the houses, and the mouths. Try not to breathe, or else the smoke gets in you, messes with your brain, lungs,the skin, cough, cough cough COUGH!

Newssheets. The kind you twist, and bleeds. Too many sheets, for many people who can't read. Window by window, I hear gossips. I avoid windows, in order to avoid gossips, drops of spit and feces. The smoke, the smoke is within. Can't let it get out, already in. Small amounts of poison, long lasting poison in my veins.

— ...I thought you would cut out the cigarettes this time, she said – rotten pipes, delivering smoke, releasing it to everyone's face. Pale faces, drained of blood – it's the only way I can relax. With the kids, and all, there isn't a single moment I-

— Cough! – disease doesn't know its disease. It just does what is of its nature. To infect people... it's taking me already.

— Peace, brother. What do ya want?

— The dirty needles... coffin nails...

— What did you said?

— Cough! You heard me, disease. You took the whole of this man, now I'll take him back out of you! – with this scalpel, I can do the fix.

— No. Please, no! I have family! – throught this man, disease tried to shed of a scream. It lays on the ground, lots of cuts, and why does it has to resist?

— Don't worry. I only take away the bad parts. The rotten pipes – then... a last breathe of life. The final cut. Was that life? No. Cough, cough! An imitation of life.

We all live in pieces... I just want to live in peace.

...

[https://i.vgy.me/x2FyCN.jpg]

Do I have to work today?

Yaaawn... a shiver travels throught my whole body, and all I did was open the front door, to receive the early morning winds. With Agartha in hands, and father's hat in head, I can pass throught it without falling. Do teachers sleep at school? One of the kids asked, before I left. I think it was Raymie. Most the time, we do. It seems easier to stand on high wire than cross throught the slippery stones of each Burmecia's street. I'll do my best, April said before I left. That's what Albert would want, she completed. I remember the first day I came to that house. Said that I would only stay a week, then depart. Guess I was wrong, or at my rightest to not leave them behind. A member of the family; didn't expected to be one, but that's how they see me. Though I can't see it like I used to, I still feel the rain crossing my skin like it did on a Thursday afternoon. The wind to pull the swing, together of the dried leaves of autumn.

A relentless, caring high wind.

— Are you falling asleep? – a Royal Guard asked. We met each other at the avenue – come on, it's a joke – Dan, of course.

— I'm sure that I do not suffer of narcolepsy – and to fall asleep in this noisy street, on other hand...

— Then what is bothering you? – Dan's heartbeat seem irregular. The cold morning isn't the only to blame.

/\/\/\_/\_/\/\/\_/\_/\/\_

— I ask same, Gappys – I thought it would be funny to call Dan by that way. Like, I still do remember.

— Man, when was the last time I heard it – funny, you said... he doesn't seem amused at all – oh, yesterday. It was Jack's. He has a keen eye for everything.

— Uh, sorry if I reminded you of-

— The gap? No, that's fine. I learned how to control my impulses, and there isn't a single mud pit around, so... it's fine – said Dan, shedding of a brief smile – besides, you're my friend.

— So if I pulled your tail right now...

— Then I would have no mercy. Nobody touches my tail – gulp.

— Just saying – so Dan took off his claw from near the leather sheath. He may be my friend, but a soldier on duty as well.

— I think that answers what does bother me. Like, I do need to be bothered. Everyday spent here, wearing these blue clothes, it ain't hard to spot a red smudge. And to come home alive, not sure if same will happen tomorrow...

— If you stay on the line, you have nothing to worry about.

— I wish others could stay on it, too. Well, that's why I'm here, after all.

— Has someone pulled your tail recently, Dan? – I wonder if that still happens these days. If everything changed or not as I left.

— More than that, Frattie. Like, I can tolerate a silly kid's prank. I used to be a prankster, with nothing to do but laugh. Without showing the gaps, of course. See, I once pulled a Guard's pants, and you know what happened.

— What happened?

— I was caught, of course. Couldn't sit in the chair for a week.

— See, that's what bothers me, Dan – maybe nothing changed at all. Flowers grow, but that doesn't prevent anyone from stepping over them – this need of violence for things that can be solved with dialogue.

— In my case, there wasn't dialogue.

— Then how come you've became a better person?

— Dunno. The power of love? See, people are people, Fratley. It's easier to change of opinion than change a whole person. Like father used to say, 'If it doesn't kill you... it may kill someone else'.

— What do these words mean?

— Don't know, Frattie. Father used to say things that seemed to only make sense for himself. Now, these words seem to meant a lot than they ever did. This sword... I swear I could put a butter's knife in this sheat, and people still would think I am carrying a sword around. Like, you feel this too, don't you?

— I do – standing near someone with a weapon... I wonder who doesn't feel same tension. Even I, carrying this pointy javelin, feel this way.

— Everyone seems afraid of me a time and another. I can tolerate bad sight, but fear in the eyes of everyone...

— 'Let fear propel you forward', my father used to say.

— I retreat, in this case. Does that make me look like a coward?

— You have a sense of preserving life in a touch-and-go scenery, Dan. I wouldn't call it cowardice. I know it's tough to turn down a dare, but sometimes being brave means using your head.

— Thanks. Many come to ask questions to me, while I walk around without answering my own. Like, I don't want to bother Learie. She loves me, and that makes her vulnerable to suffering, and I don't want to see her suffer.

— And how's Learie doing?

— She's fine. So do the kids – it's been a while since Dan and I were walking on this avenue. The Jugend is still far away from here. I could be jumping from a building to another to reach there, but sometimes I want to know the people below clouds – ...I hate changing Jack and Adam's clothes.

— Who doesn't?

— Yeah, who doesn't. But I'm glad it's only two of 'em. Two healthy boys, isn't that a bless?

— It is.

— When I look to the little ones, I think 'well, they aren't wicked devils after all'.

— They pushed their mother, didn't they?

— I agree – I like when people smile. Moreso when I make them to. Might be an awkward stretch of lips, but I still count it as a win – speaking of kids, last time I saw you, Frattie, you were eating worms, lucky clovers, these things that you can't really eat on a dish.

— And you poking the nose, yuck.

— True. Now I have these cookies in the pockets. Learie made them, but they always crumble. Though, they do not lose the flavor. Do you want a cookie?

— No, thanks – crumbling cookies... how familiar – you know, these cookies used to made me itch all day. Wasn't a good idea to hide the cookies in my hat. As a kid, I thought it would work. Dandrufs on this age? Mom said, before she felt a sugary scent in my head.

— Hahah... I'm still trying to figure out if that kid was really you, Fratley.

— I stopped being a kid at seven years old.

— And I with five – with that said, Dan and I stood quiet for a while. The sound of the crowd filled in our ears. Instead of hearing a lot of gossip and hearts, I hear my own – still talking about kids... How are you doing with Freya?

— Freya? Oh, it's her second day at the Jugend – same to which we both arrived – well, here it is. Beyond these gates, the new Dragoons are born.

— Are you trying hard on her?

— To a certain extent, Dan – I said, soon as stepped in inside the Jugend – though, this approach... it feels a bit forced.

— Forced? – so Dan asked, right about when he was leaving.

— Yes. I know the nature of an endurance test. They can be kinda brutal, and hardly you come out of it without any harm. Like, I do not disregard traditional ways of teaching completely, even when they feel outdated as punching a tree.

— To punch a tree ain't that much. You see, I had to carry on buckets of water through a mountain path, now that's a hard task.

— That's what Hrist had to pass throught, too. And she was younger than Freya when she did it so...

— You do know how to treat ladies.

— There are no ladies in the Jugend.

— But Freya is still a woman. A person. And you should take care of her as a person if you want her trust.

— How many people have you taken care as persons recently, Dan? – I asked, to which Dan stared at me, confused, his warm breathing coming from the nose. All he does is to breathe, while it rains. I feel like I'm talking to nobody, but myself.

— Not all of them – nobody, you said – still, mutilation ain't my kind. I might bluff a while and another, and... why did you asked it, Frattie?

— Don't know – I should have crossed the main door already, checked my presence, and, well-

— Is that because of what happened yesterday? – Johnny... I can easily take out that image from my head, like I do when I ignore a noise. But when you're in a dark cave, surrounded by echoes, it's hard to let it pass by. Noise doesn't cross walls, it hits you constantly until you're down.

— Maybe – a feeling I borrow from all yesterdays left behind – I think I should be leaving already. Goodbye, Dan. Have a nice day.

— Goodbye, Frattie. Be vigilant – be vigilant... sure I'll be, Dan. With these ears, I can better than I did when I had eyes. I see better the good side of this world, so do the bad. But sometimes, I think the bad side is winning.

...

[https://i.vgy.me/rTYTeT.jpg]

At the bathhouse...

— So you are a nurse? – I asked to Edea, who's taking a shower at my side. I can see her from my shoulder, that's what I mean.

— That's how I began my career, Crescent – she said, without facing my direction – you can scream as louder as you can, and I won't hear you. All burmecian surgeons and nurses are taught to ignore yells of pain.

— That makes sense – counting these scars on Edea's back, I can tell how many times she ignored her own pain.

— Well, Lenneth always said that I couldn't be a mother like her did.

— I think you would be a great mother.

— I'm not interested in taking care of any more children. I already have a lot to take care of.

— Speaking of it, who's watching Hrist? – maybe she is standing on same place, with a ball and a chain wrapped on her leg.

— I said that I would.

— But you are here - unless there's a way to replicate your image with the Dragoon, who knows?

— Though Hrist behaves and begs for attention like one, she ain't a child. She's a young lady. And a lady knows how to behave. Right?

— Right — I said, washing my hair. Even with a few people, this place still seems empty. Maybe because it's so large. There are people who talk, who sing, who do their, uh... I mean, it's a place for a lot of things, pleasant and unpleasant as they may be. Like talking about someone right on their back, that's so mean of you, Freya – I wonder how controlling a hair can be any useful. I mean, can Hrist hold her spear with the hair? – I never thought I would be saying such a thing. Weird how am I accepting it all without freaking out. Well, look at the mirror, you're a walking contradiction.

— Hrist doesn't like to use her hair a lot – said the Captain. Hands, claws, fists, what's the difference?

— She prefers to use her fists, you mean – I look to the weeping wall. There's no reflection, just plain white, like my hair. I stare at it, wondering... – when will I begin training, Captain? Should I await for Sir Fratley to come in?

— Yes.

— Yes?

— He knows what he's doing. Besides, he was the one who came up with the test, not me.

— So the tree punching was his idea all along? – I wouldn't be surprised.

— Not his idea. It's a kind of tradition around here. Get rid of some old trees, and plant new ones in place – in my case, I'm just getting rid of a tree, nothing in its place but a spear in my hands.

— Isn't it easier to use anything but the fists?

— Why are you complaining? – Edea turned to me, with a serious look in face. I'm afraid of slipping any wrong word out just by looking at it.

— Did you had to punch trees as well to earn your own weapon?

— I never punched trees because they were mean to me. Neither Lenneth did it so.

— Did Hrist had to pass throught it as well? – I think Hrist had been throught worse. She keeps mentioning about spikes, broken bones, and I wonder if its to discourage me. Sometimes, it sounds like a cry for help, but Hrist doesn't want to look helpless at all.

— No. You know why.

— Why?

— Well, being the Headmaster's daughter...

— Have you counted her age as well? Like, how would a twelve year-old bring a tree down by its own hands?

— When I was 12, I killed my first dragon – the indifference is astonishing. Looking to this wall and Edea, I see no difference, other than a voice – why are you staring at this wall?

— I wonder... how would I look like if I was human? – it's a random question that came to mind. To be like the folks from outside the rain... surely it would be easier to wash up this body.

— And you are.

— No. I mean, without this fur, these ears, this tail... – so Edea and I left the bathhouse, walking throught a corridor that lead to where our Dragoon outfits and garments had been dropped by. They even polished our armory, that's nice of them.

— Aren't you proud of being a burmecian? – said Edea, placing her silver helmet on head, as I wore the coat, button by button

— Yes, I am. The food, the weather, the arts, the dance... I like it all – I stared to my own helmet. Now I could see myself, out of focus – but being a burmecian alone isn't enough.

— Is that why you came here to the Jugend, Crescent? To be something? – Edea said, looking by the window. I see Sir Fratley talking to Hrist, who's cleaning the mess she did before. Is it me, or is she carrying boulders with her head? Like towers of books – then you'll have to struggle for it. I know it may be hard a while and another, but you just have. Nothing comes easy as you may think.

— But to go away, on other hand – mom had a unique scent whenever I hugged her wearing this coat. Dad smelled like milk, lemon, fish, anything he had been carrying around with his. Don't talk to strangers, mom used to say. Well, everytime she got home, she brought a lot of strangers with this coat – I never thought... uh... it never came to mind that...

— No one is watching, child. Cry as much as you want.

— I'm not crying, Captain – I said, looking to the blurred figure near me – it's just that... sniff! This coat holds on of so much blood and memories.

— Which one do you want to stay? – Edea asked, as I washed my face.

— It's hard to take an only choice, for a world of so many paths.

— Lenneth chose her own, now its your time. As I said before, Crescent, if you don't feel alright doing this...

— I feel alright, thank you – it's what I want to do. Be a Dragoon Knight, not just like mom, but just like a good person she was – after all, that's how much human I am.

— Most humans wear pants, Crescent – so Edea looked below me.

— Oh! I didn't noticed – no wonder I've been feeling cold. Forgot to wear the pants with all this talk.

— You are young, girl. Do not think of what's happening ahead of you, because it didn't happened yet. Now, I suggest you to take a time to breath, drink some water, and you might get start training. If you still don't feel okay, I'm sorry, but I can't help any further than that. It'll only depend of you, fine?

— I'm fine – the way Edea treats me... sometimes, she's cold as stone, but other times, I feel that anything with a face may shed of a tongue as well.

...

[https://i.vgy.me/Rhi9Uy.jpg]

Outside...

— Okay, Hrist. Now it's time for someone else to watch upon you – I said, as the front door opened. Two figures came out of it, walking into the rain. One has a scent of dried chamomile leaves, and the another smells like cherry – next time, do not let anger overcome your being.

— It ain't the worst I had been throught, so I'll be fine – it sure ain't the worst, Hrist – to move huge bricks wasn't that hard for me. Now, to place them one near another is kinda boring.

— I know you are not a bad person – this speaking of someone who knew you since little – oh, here she comes. Morning, Edea. Freya.

— Good morning, Fratley – said the Captain, to whom I am changing place. And she also gave me back the cane, thanks. Agartha lies on my back, as I replace it with this cane. Now I can leave from where I sitting without no worry – I'll be watching Hrist from here.

— I do not need to be watched. This whole place already resembles a prison. Like, everything looks like a prison, and... Oh, hey, Crescent. Took a bath? I knew you would, after feeling so filthy of yourself.

— What do you mean, Chardonnay? – said Freya, standing at my side. I don't like where this is going...

— I think you should apologize to me.

/\/\/\/\_/\/\/\_/\/\/\/\_

— Apologize for what? You should apologize for ruining my coat – Hrist did more than ruin Freya's coat. The cracking in the floor is huge.

/\/\/\_/\/\/\/\_/\/\/\_/\/\/\/\_

— And you for letting my wild side go out, that's what I mean.

— I think you both should apologize to one another – I had to say something. With both young hearts beating like that. I even missed the pattern.

— And later, we'll do a tea party.

— Oh, I would appreciate that, Hrist.

— I was joking.

— No more jokes under my sight – unlike me, Edea doesn't let go of Hrist's sarcasm. She stands there, with a serious, almost arrogant, pose – as for you, Crescent... may you have a good training.

— I will – Freya said, as we left to the garden where we trained before. Little I know about her, but by the few moments we shared, I can tell she is a bit down. Heart is fine, but... I shouldn't had been harsh with her at the very beginning. For someone who lost it's mother recently, that was pretty inconsiderate and mean of your part – imagine, Hrist inviting me to a tea party. She doesn't even like tea very much.

— What, Hrist? Don't worry. She only slaps in your face when you ask for it, that's very kind of her.

— Yeah. Very kind.

— So, which tree did you...

— That one – well, that was quick. So Freya pointed out to the cherry tree, still standing there – but before we begin, Sir Fratley, I...

— Yes? – I knew this was coming.

— I thought you would teach me a healing spell. As you know, no one can do this without getting harmed, and last time...

— Oh, sorry. Yesterday, with all that movement. I'm really sorry.

— It's alright. We all got caught by surprise, didn't we? – more than you think – Fratley?

— It wasn't my intention to leave you hurted, Freya. No. Of course not. After you demonstrated your resistance, I...

— Yeah. Don't feel sorry for yourself, Sir Fratley. Just teach me what you have to.

— Right. It's just that... – I hate seeing someone die. Even if I couldn't convince that man with words, I still fell this weak when I don't – I mean, life has so much to offer, other than ups and downs.

— I know. I came here to this place in search of life.

— Don't you mean reputation? Status? It's what most people want as Dragoon Knights.

— A life. It's all I want – guess I have a lot to learn about and with you, Freya.