Passing through the narrow halls of Gizmaluke's Grotto for the umpteenth time, stood the crimson-cloaked dragoon knight at the city gates. Walking briskly through this gloomy town, Freya was welcomed by the endless drizzle that fell from those murky gray skies. The knight felt haggard, far too exhausted after the events that transpired within Memoria. With the sudden revelation of both Kuja's and Garland's return to Gaia, the dragoon knight was at a loss for words. There would be no words to express the way she felt now, nothing that could be said to calm the fear that rose within her. Clutching her lance tightly within her pale palms, the knight continued along her way through these cobblestone alleys.

She eventually came to a halt once several children ran up to her to tell her news of a white-haired stranger dressed in black. Frowning at the thought of yet another unwanted visitor roaming through her land, Freya made haste towards the local inn in search of the man while the children giggled at the thought of ‘Auntie Freya’ tossing out another bandit. Wandering down the winding streets and alleyways, the knight finally emerged a few feet away from the inn.