Perspective: Freya Van Daalen
Freya was going to listen to him.
She had already decided that yesterday, when Alessio mentioned — almost casually — the Tower's currency exchange system.
But now, after their new conversation, and after watching him act with the calculated serenity of someone who always seemed to know more than he said, that decision had turned into conviction.
She would move.
Not impulsively, but strategically.
Freya Van Daalen wasn't a woman of reckless choices.
She had learned — through time and responsibility — that every step in her life had to be weighed, assessed, and measured with care.
She'd had her fill of decisions made in the heat of emotion, and of paying dearly for them afterward.
But Alessio…
He changed that equation.
There was something about him that escaped the ordinary logic of the game.
It wasn't just his skill, or the tactical calm with which he analyzed everything around him.
It was the silent certainty with which he spoke — the security of someone who knew.
And that was something few players, even veterans, truly possessed.
She remembered clearly when he explained the currency issue — the agreement between the Tower's company and the U.S. government, the conversion structure, the real-world payment scale in dollars.
It all sounded absurd… and yet, it made perfect sense.
Alessio wasn't the kind of man who wasted words on rumors.
If he stated something, it was because he had already tested it, verified it, maybe even profited from it.
And that was enough.
Freya knew how to recognize a player who didn't play just to win, but to understand the game.
And in the Black Tower, that kind of person was rare — and dangerous.
Dangerous, yes, but in the right way: the kind worth following.
Now, with Thalgrande's gates boiling over with soldiers and adventurers marching toward an inevitable massacre, she saw no reason to stay.
Remaining would be wasteful.
Leaving with Alessio was strategy.
And Freya had always preferred to act as a strategist, not a soldier.
But there was another, far more practical reason — one that, deep down, weighed just as much as any calculation.
Money.
Freya didn't show it, but life outside the Tower was far from easy.
Raising two children alone, managing the house, working, studying — all while trying to secure a decent future for her kids — was a marathon that didn't always end well.
Time was her rarest resource.
And the thought of earning money while she slept…
Of turning play into stability…
Was simply irresistible.
Now that she knew the game could generate real income — and that the profits could be substantial — there was no reason to hesitate.
Especially after Alessio had let her keep three hundred thousand dollars for just one item.
A single item.
That said everything she needed to know.
If he treated a sum like that as negotiable, it meant he saw much greater potential ahead.
That amount was probably just the beginning — a crumb from something far larger.
And Freya knew opportunity when she saw it.
She wasn't an idealist, nor a naïve dreamer.
She was a mother — practical, grounded, and now, a competitive player.
She knew what it meant to let a chance like that slip away.
And she wouldn't.
After all, she still had two children to raise.
And in a few years, two young adults to send to college.
None of that, in the real world, came cheap.
With that in mind, there was no room left for doubt.
She would follow Alessio Leone — not out of submission, but by choice.
And, deep down, a small part of her was beginning to think that maybe this was the best decision she'd made in a long time.
As they walked toward the portal grounds, Freya couldn't help glancing at her sister.
Lotte walked a few paces ahead, distracted, the blue cleric's robe swaying gently in the breeze.
Despite her initial reluctance, she had agreed to come without complaint — which, by Lotte's standards, was already a small miracle.
But Freya knew that look, that calm too perfect to be real.
Her sister's serene expression was nothing more than the pause before the storm.
She knew that the moment they were alone, Lotte would unleash a barrage of questions — one more persistent than the next.
About Alessio, about the decision to leave Dornehold, about everything else her curious, imaginative mind could come up with.
It was only a matter of time.
For now, though, Lotte was quiet.
Quiet — and completely enchanted.
The reason rested in her arms.
The two lion cubs slept curled up in the folds of her robe, as if they had found the safest place in the world.
Their golden fur contrasted with the deep blue of the fabric, and every so often, one of them would stretch a paw or let out a soft sigh, searching for the other's warmth.
Lotte watched them with a kind of fascination in her eyes — the kind only truly kind people possess.
Pure, unguarded, like a child seeing something the world hasn't yet taught her to fear.
Her fingers moved gently through their tiny manes, smiling every time one of the cubs stirred, turning to the other or making a low, sleepy sound.
Players passing by even turned their heads, surprised at the improbable sight — a young cleric walking through the streets with two sleeping lion cubs in her arms.
Freya watched the scene from the corner of her eye, and her heart tightened in a way she couldn't quite explain.
If only she knew…
The thought crossed her mind with the weight of something dangerous.
If Lotte knew those cubs weren't mere pets or rare summons.
If she knew they were, in fact, hers.
That they had been born from her — and from Alessio.
Freya drew a deep breath, forcing herself to stay composed.
She wasn't ready for that.
So she stayed silent, watching her sister smile as the cubs slept peacefully — as if that simple moment were enough to keep any shadow of worry at bay.
Maybe, Freya thought, it was better that way.
To let Lotte believe — for now — that the cubs were nothing more than magical creatures.
And that, like all young beings, all they needed was warmth and affection.
Freya turned her gaze back toward the line of portals ahead.
The columns of light pulsed like living hearts of energy, waiting for the next wave of adventurers.
She quickened her pace, hiding the heaviness in her chest.
There was much still to come — and the last thing she needed was for her sister to suddenly burst into excitement at the wrong moment.