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Chapter Text

Prologue:

End of Time

Swirling mists hazy as a morning fog flowed around the old man. He appeared to have fallen into slumber as he had long ago mastered the art of sleeping while afoot. Or perhaps he didn’t really have a physical form at all on this strange plane of existence outside of time.

He had just arrived.

And he had existed there for time beyond counting.

The spiraling dreamy haze coalesced almost as if it had a physical form – a manifestation of possibility. His perception interpreted it that way, but he also was no stranger to the features that he had willed into existence to offer him comfort in his seemingly endless isolation. The soft glow of an old street lamp and the babbling of a fountain brought him peace though he had long ago recognized the landscape as illusion. An illusion he himself had created to protect his fragile mind.

But the mists of time he could not dismiss. So many assumed that time was a line – hard and brittle, forever cast in stone. But the reality that stood before him was a dynamic writhing mass of currents and eddies, of possibilities and certainty. All of time was happening at once.

And something had changed, or perhaps manifested was a better word. But the event, if you could call it that when time did not exist, brought a smile to his lips. No time had passed - it couldn’t in this realm. But it felt like hope of an entire planet had been reborn – he could feel its warmth in his soul like feeling the sunlight on your skin after decades of surviving storming endless blizzards.

“What did you do?” his strange occasional companion inquired with idle curiosity.

“I did nothing,” was the calm reply. “I serve as a witness only.”

“But it’s happening as you predicted.”

“It would appear so.”

Finally.

It was now only a matter of time.

1999 AD

Sensors detected a significant increase in seismic activity. This reading was unexpected as the android was not currently located in a region where such geological phenomena was commonplace. Protocol dictated that he run a self diagnostic.

All systems were performing within established parameters.

The intensity of the reading increased and now the tremors of the building could be verified visually as lab equipment and tools fell from tables and shelves. And the human techs were screaming in fright and uncertainty. The android suspected they were not trained in these emergency protocols.

“Please remain calm,” his synthetic voice cut through the air. “Protocol states that you should place your body under a table or desk and hold on to the legs.”

He was satisfied to note that the two techs were quick to comply with his directions. And their timing could not have been any further delayed, as the shaking had increased in intensity again to a 6.4 on the Bangor Scale.

The lights extinguished and his network communications disconnected. The android began running rapid calculations onto what calamitous event could lead to such a disruption when the nearest fault line was hundreds of kilometras away.

Perhaps an asteroid’s impact?

The room rotated at a twelve degree angle, cabinets flew open and supplies crashed to the floor as overhanging light fixtures fell to the ground.

The shaking intensified again, his sensors now read an 8.1 on the Bangor Scale. Beam support structures had started to buckle.

Chances of his human companions surviving: zero percent.

Probability that he would survive and be able to meet his directive: one point three percent.

995 AD

The barely twelve year old girl heard the heavy door of her bedroom swing slowly open, but she kept her blond head buried in the text before her.

“Another of your tutors delivered a letter of resignation,” her father’s voice broke the silence.

“Good riddance,” she proclaimed dismissively, her eyes never leaving the page before her. Nothing irritated her father more than not giving him her full attention.

“Apparently, you were using your assigned readings as target practice?”

“I may be guilty of that transgression,” she admitted as she turned a page.

“Is it too much to ask that you behave like a princess?” he asked with a resigned sigh.

This time she did turn around. In fact, she lept to her feet and glared at the man she called father and king.

“I am behaving like a princess!” she screamed shoving the diary of one of her ancestors into his face. “The question is father, do you want a well behaved obedient and thoughtless heir, or do you want a strong independent woman capable of ruling a nation?”

“Is it too much to ask for a combination of both?” he countered sternly not at all phased by her outburst.

596 AD

The amphibian knelt in the snow, fighting the natural shivers the ice cold ground sent coursing through his cold blooded veins. He cowered behind the thick brush watching as her majesty’s carriage approached.

He brought his webbed finger to his mouth and released a piercing whistle. The carriage came to a stop, and her guards, some on mounts, and others on foot, circled protectively around the carriage, their weapons out and their stances on high alert. They clearly did not yet detect the threat.

“What are you doing?” the venomous snake the size of a man at his right hissed in accusation.

He answered the question with a violent thrust of his broadsword through the creature’s skull.

The others in the band turned on him, but he still had the advantage spread out as they were throughout the wilderness. He did not wait until they all were within reach. Instead, he dove forward hitting the first beast in front with the hilt of his blade, then using the momentum of the impact to shove the blade backward into a second creature’s mouth at his rear.

He jumped to the side dodging a clumsy strike from the third as he stabbed the fourth with a hard uppercut.

After that, the rest were easy to pick off as the knights of Guardia had joined him in his hunt. They made short work of the remaining Mystic bandits. Once all had been dealt with the amphibian trudged back through the snow to each of the fallen – searching for survivors playing possum. There were only two.

Held the edge of his blade to the first creature’s neck and hesitated.

“Why did you betray us?” his once companion demanded of him.

The frog knight said nothing as he slit the monster’s throat and moved to the second wounded creature.

“The Day of Reckoning is at hand. When Lavos arrives all of humanity will perish. You have bought her mere years.”

The knight dispatched the last creature without hesitation.

Then he turned to the gilded carriage waylaid in the snow, opened the door to look upon swirling frightened cornflower blue eyes. The eyes of his love. The eyes of his queen.

He had no words for her either. He simply dropped his sword at her feet and fell to his knees in the snow to show respect, praying that she would see past his monstrous features and recognize him as a friend.

12013 BC

“Javed please,” the woman begged crushing his hand within her own. “Please don’t leave me here alone.”

“Amare,” he whispered brushing her brilliant blue hair away from her eyes that burned with unshead tears. “My Queen, I am sorry, but I do not think I have been given a choice. I had so hoped that I would last long enough to share the skies with you.”

She tried to hush him, but the stubborn fool never listened to her.

“Serve our people and daughter well my love.”

His eyes fell closed. She watched as his chest continued to rise and fall praying that he would open his eyes and speak to her just one more time.

Hours passed and she had not moved. Her servants had tried to get her to eat. And when she refused, her delightful daughter came in begging her to take a break – that she would watch over her father, the queen would not be moved.

Until his chest did not rise again. And in that moment, she couldn’t cry – she had possession of no more tears. Cold anger pumped through her veins like an icy fire. She channeled it to her finger tips lighting his body that lay upon their shared bed afire. She would never sleep beside him so she would never again sleep.

She would continue their research. Surely if magic could raise a continent above the clouds of neverending winter, it could stave off death indefinitely.

And when she succeeded, no one would ever have to die again.

993 AD

“It’s been years Madame. To what to I owe the pleasure?” the councilor said as he put the fountain pen down, turned, and folded his hands together to give the woman draped in black his undivided attention. One gave the The Widow respect or one suffered the consequences.

“I have a lead.”

He arched an eyebrow in surprise. “I was under the impression that the trail had gone cold.”

“You lacked the proper motivation and stopped looking,” she corrected.

He fumbled nervously, trying to determine if she was making an observation or if she was passing judgement. He knew both from reputation and experience that he did not want to anger this woman.

“Here’s what I have,” she handed him an envelope.

“I will tell you what I find. How can I contact you?”

“The old system is still in place.”

He nodded, turned away for a moment to file the document. He turned back only to find she was gone.

65000002 BC

The cavewoman pounded her fist into the stonework in frustration, peering at a trap laying out in the open, in an outright mockery of the apes it sought to imprison. And Wulfgar had fallen for it.

She peered upward at his colossal figure struggling angrily in the nets suspended above the jungle foliage. She rolled across the ground laughing hysterically.

“Ayla!” he called. “Help!”

“Wulfgar strong! Help himself!” she barked back unsympathetically and strolled away delighted in her good fortune.

Wulfgar was strong. She would not deny it.

Wulfgar was also an idiot. He would rather see the tribe suffer and die, than admit to his own mistakes. If they continued to follow him, they would not live through the raids. She knew better.

Wulfgar would stay trapped.

She would lead the tribe.

599 AD

The mage had ordered his network of spies to comb through libraries both near and far looking for esoteric texts. They had finally brought him a treasure trove of knowledge with a single volume.

He carefully turned the brittle pages scanning the archaic symbols rapidly understanding them innately as no one else in this era could. This was the last piece that had eluded him for years. He finally had enough to complete his summoning.

The destruction of Lavos was at hand.

999 AD

The fiery haired teenager lay across his best friend’s bed, which was the only safe place in the room cluttered with discarded gadgets, tools, workbooks, and laundry across the floor. He occupied himself with lazily tossing her screwdriver up into the air and catching it over and over while she had her back to him, her full attention on some project.

She whirled to him with two bulbous objects with flat blue pads in either hand connected to one another with a bundle of multi colored wires. The flat blue part of the device pulsed rhythmically with one another as if they were giving off some kind of light show.

“Cool! So what’s this thing supposed to do?” he asked.

She scowled at him and his choice of words.

“What?” he asked defensively. “Your inventions almost always end up being completely different than what you intend!”

“That is not true!” she countered hotly.

“There was your cloud machine that made no clouds, but kept things really cold.”

“The refrigerator has been extremely useful!”

“The singing robot that couldn’t stay on key to save its life.”

“The Guardian military has found all kinds of useful applications to Gato’s techonology.”

“Then there’s…”

“Crono Triggara! I swear I…”

He held his hands up in surrender. “Lucca! I know that your inventions are valuable. I just was commenting on the fact that they never do what you originally set out to do!”

“Well, maybe I want to break that pattern.”

“What are you trying to build?”

“A teleportation device.”

“Wow! How would that even work?”

“Well,” Lucca began holding out the half of the device in her left hand. “It starts with a scanner. Place and object here,” she said gesturing animatedly with the object. He obediently offered her the screwdriver. And immediately, the other pod seemed to produce a replica of the screwdriver.

“How?” he asked, passing his hand through the image. It wasn’t really there he realized – some kind of hologram.

“This side is scanning the object – its molecular composition, mass, and charge,” she began bringing her hands together and her eyes dancing with excitement. Crono settled himself in for a long explanation. He would listen to every word, though he already knew he’d probably only understand half of it.

 

Chapter 1: The Millennial Fair - Circa 1000 A.D.

 

Crono heard the bell ringing. Leene’s Bell marked the hour every hour once the sun had risen for over three hundred years. He heard it in the same way one might hear his own heartbeat – dimly aware of it, but the sound did not truly register. And hearing the morning wake-up call did not mean he was awake. Not really. Especially when it was so cold outside. He preferred the blissful warmth of being wrapped up in the cotton cloud that was his heavy winter quilt.

“Crono!” his mother called from the stairwell, bouncing from the four wooden walls of his room into his restful haven.

He pretended not to hear her. He remained motionless under his shield against the cold, even as her warm presence loomed above his form.

“And here I thought you actually wanted to go to the fair,” she said with wry amusement.

He bolted out of bed, the morning chill of winter forgotten. He glanced out the window and immediately winced. The sun already stood well above the horizon. Lucca was going to kill him.

He tore through a pile of scattered clothes that lay strewn across the floor for something to wear. He seized upon a blue tunic and some khaki pants that had barely survived various training accidents as evidenced by a few threadbare patches and an actual hole or two. He donned them anyway as they were still incredibly comfortable and allowed for ease of movement.

“Can’t you at least wear something clean?” his mother cried disdainfully.

“They are clean!” he insisted.

“Then why were they on the floor?” she asked.

When Crono failed to respond, his mother sighed before making her exit downstairs. Crono stomped into his boots as he fastened his belt around his waist. And finally, he tied a white bandanna around his forehead to keep his unruly bright red hair from falling into his face.

He took the stairs three at a time and made it halfway out the door before his mother’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Hold it young man! Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the fair!”

“Not until you’ve had a decent meal,” she said, calmly nodding towards the food awaiting him at the table.

“But I promised Lucca that I would help…” he tried to explain.

“You’re already late, a few more moments won’t kill you.”

“I’ll eat at the fair,” he objected, but he was already making his way to the table.

“Of that, I have no doubt. I have less faith in what you will be eating.”

He didn’t sit down. Instead, he stood by the table and bit into the pastry that consisted of a buttery flakey crust filled with ribbons of apple cinnamon and cheese. It was absolute perfection, but it was completely wasted on Crono who wolfed the whole thing down in a few seconds.

Just before he turned to leave his mother handed him a pouch. He knew instantly that it was his allowance, but it seemed heavy. He dumped the coins into his hand and quickly counted them. It was four times the normal amount.

“Mom, this is too much!” he objected.

“I have taken on a few odd jobs lately and had some extra money stashed away,” she said, waving away the special treatment, “Have fun at the fair.”

“Thank you,” he said sincerely. He made it all the way to the door before he stopped in his tracks. He walked back to his mother kissed her swiftly on the cheek, “I love you, mom.” Her smile broadened and she shooed him out the door.

Once outside, Crono made it down their street and to the main road. And stopped dead in his tracks. The street was flooded with wall to wall bodies and rumbling carts. Little puffs of white steam from his breath disturbed his view.

Lucca might never get the chance to kill him.

…

The seventeen year old princess stood stiff – her back pressed against the stone column structure that served a support beam for the extravagant passageway, counting on the shadow of the suit of armor to keep her hidden from the gossiping maids. She cursed their presence and their slow pace. The palace staff was operating on skeleton crew this week to give everyone at least two days to partake in the festivities. The following week, they would all need to return in order to put on the palace’s festivities for the noble men and women of the court.

If she was caught in this part of the palace at all this hour she would be escorted back to her lessons on etiquette. She wouldn’t mind the instruction if it centered around something more interesting – like history, diplomacy, and culture. But the current etiquette curriculum limited itself to the proper type of curtsy depending on the rank of the visiting dignitary and how to set the table for a state event as if she would ever be the one actually setting the table. She would definitely assign that task to the etiquette instructor herself!

“And then Marco just walked in on us!” the closer maid shared, sending her companion into a fit of giggles.

“And how did he react?” the other girl asked eagerly.

The blond teenager held her breath as they passed her hiding place.

“He didn’t really. He just stopped, stared, and turned tail.”

“That poor man!”

The giggles faded down the hallway, and the princess slowly crept out and continued her journey. She just had to make it past the guards stationed at the side entrance, and she would be free for at least the afternoon.

She slipped into the last alcove and waited, praying that Natalie would come through for her. She hadn’t told her lady in waiting the purpose of the diversion, but her companion was no idiot. Natalie had just long ago learned if she didn’t ask, she could honestly say she had no idea where her highness had disappeared to when others came looking for the “missing” princess.

Nadia sighed. If they just allowed her to actually step foot outside the castle without bodyguards and royal escorts, or if they allowed her to participate in the hunting events, she might not find cause to “vanish” quite as often.

The shattering of a clay pot broke the normal bustle of activity. Someone screamed, and everyone in the immediate area fell into a startled silence. But not the blond princess. She stayed in her hiding spot until the guards in question took off to check out the disturbance.

She then made her escape. She very much wanted to check out the celebrations. And she didn’t want to do it as a princess, but as an ordinary teenaged girl.

…

It hadn’t taken as long as Crono had feared to make it to the square. Being on foot meant he could weave through the carts and wandering pedestrians. He could also jump off the road altogether and move through the grass or jump across the tops of fence posts when the wall of people became too dense. His active pace also encouraged blood to flow, protecting him from winter’s bite.

The fairgrounds at the north of the city’s limits usually were an open empty space. Lucca and he spent a lot of time testing out various devices and inventions where there was unlikely to be any unfortunate unlucky victims. Today though, the fair was an assault on the senses. In between a dusty yellow walkway, every inch of land was covered in cluttered booths, stands, colorful tents, and games and competitions. The scent of barbecues and popcorn teased his nose and the chatter of movement and activity meant he would have to shout to a companion to be heard. There were fabrics, jewelry, and tools for sale and music clashing from one corner to another.

He wanted to see it all, but there would be time for that later. Right now, he had to find Lucca before she throttled him into the next century. He tried to remain focused on making his way to her location. He knew she would grant him a break later and he would have time to explore the whole fair ground. But the races were especially tempting. He had been a fan of Catalack Jack since the wildcat had earned an unexpected victory in the last foot tournament.

But it was the katanas on display that did him in. He had never seen such a finely crafted weapon. Really Master Chiva rarely let him look at live steel at all, let alone practice with it. His time training always spent with the bokken. He slipped the weapon from its saya, felt its balance and allowed himself to move through a few standard forms in the open air behind the table.

“Oooh! Look mama! That man is dancing!”

Crono smirked at the excited observation and couldn’t resist showing off just a bit. He moved through the basic forms again only faster. A circle of patrons formed around his practice as he continued to pick up the pace.

The shopkeeper moved in front of him, a staff supporting his slow gait. He was an old man in orange and blue robes with a pair of shades hiding his eyes. He cleared his throat interrupting his drills.

Crono immediately sheathed the blade and placed it on the ground below the owner and bowed low.

“You have been trained in the art of the blade,” the old man commented. “That is uncommon for one so young during these peaceful times.”

“Yes sir, I have been tutored by the Master Chiva. He has me working on forms in the morning for hours, and then on the mind in the afternoon. Besides swordwork, lessons included math, logic, meditation, philosophy, history, art, and literature.”

“A well rounded education of the arts. The training you describe is no longer commonplace. Why did you decide to study under the old traditions?”

The red-head shrugged. “I don’t remember making a choice. I started training at the age of six shortly after my father died. It was important to my mother that I learned to defend myself. She had a friend of a friend who learned under the old ways and agreed to take me on as a student.”

“What is your name lad?”

“Crono Triggara.”

“Nice to meet you Crono,” the old man lifted his shades to reveal his dark brown pupils. “I am Melchior,” he introduced before turning to a trunk in the back of his tent. He pulled out another blade and held it out in offering. “I think your style would be better suited to this piece.”

Crono took the blade, surprised at its lightness. The cord wrap across the pommel was made from dyed thin leather strands, each a distinct color weaving together like a darkened rainbow. The blade itself was impossibly thin, sharper than a razor. He bowed respectfully again, took a step back, and moved through the forms again.

This time he did not even notice the crowd, now twice the size as before, too amazed at the feeling of such a well-balanced weapon in his arms. He marveled at the way it sliced through the air and yet felt lighter than the bokken itself. He concluded with the traditional sheathing, and once again offered it back to the shopkeeper with a respectful bow.

“Thank you sir, for the privilege. This is a beautiful piece.”

“You should keep it,” the old man said with a smile.

Crono blinked for a moment, at a loss for words at the suggestion.

“How much does it cost?” he finally asked.

“More than you can afford I presume. Keep it anyway,” Melchior said, walking back to his work bench with the support of the staff.

“True mastership went into this blade and I would prefer to pay you for your service and expertise,” Crono insisted once again attempting to return the blade.

“Four hundred,” the old man countered.

Crono glanced down at the katana again, taking in its beauty. He felt tempted, but he knew that paying him so little was beyond insulting to this piece.

“She’s worth so much more than that,” he objected.

“She deserves a master that appreciates her, which you clearly do.”

And Crono understood. “You made this piece?” he asked.

“I dabble in blacksmithing on occasion, yes,” the shopkeeper admitted. “Though I wish the world had no reason for such inventions. But since it does, I prefer to see my work in the hands of those that respect the blade.”

“Thank you,” Crono said sincerely as he offered the requested amount. “Do you have a shop around here that I can visit?”

“I live outside of Medina.”

Crono winced. The blacksmith lived an entire continent away. “That’s a fair distance. But I may have to force myself to make the trip at some point if you consistently craft pieces as fine as this one.”

He bowed again and looped the blade safely confined within its says, onto his belt, wondering at the old man’s generosity. But as he stepped away with his new prize in hand, the crowd he had attracted were already vying for the blacksmith’s attention. Perhaps the old man knew exactly what he was doing. He grinned. No doubt he would make three or four sales from Crono’s physical display of skill. He spared one last glance at the hut, promising himself he would return later in the week to offer some more free advertising.

He turned into the crowd only to bodyslam straight into an oncoming pedestrian. He fell to the ground hard, fighting for the air that had evacuated his lungs on impact. Leene’s bell was tolling the hour again. He took a deep breath and sat up slowly, looking immediately for his assailant and victim. A girl dressed in a pale sea green jumpsuit lay in a puddle on the ground, unmoving.

He darted to her side. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Her crystal blue eyes blinked open at him, and then her lips spread slowly into a brilliant smile.

“Nice to meet you,” she greeted softly.

He laughed. “Nice to meet you too. I’m Crono.”

She sat up slowly, clutching a hand to her blond head. “I’m…” she paused, swaying slightly in place.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, holding out a hand to steady her.

“Yeah…” she looked up at him and smiled again. “I’m Marle.” And then her open friendly smile disintegrated into panic. “Oh no! I can not have lost it!” she exclaimed, her sky blue eyes darting across the ground frantically, even as she pulled as her hands wrapped around her own collar bone and throat.

“What are we looking for?” he asks her, following her example in studying the ground.

“It’s a pendant – a deep blue smooth gemstone,” her tone distracted and nervous. “My father is going to roast me alive!”

The pathway was clear of debris. Off to the side of the graveled path there were wrappers and brown paper packaging that had been discarded. His eyes darted to the corners and shadows, under tables and bushes, until they seized upon the glittering object. It had fallen halfway under a table of a nearby stall, probably been kicked further from their collision by a random passerby.

He retrieved the pendant and offered it dramatically back to his blond assailant who had been searching on the opposite side of the path. Her eyes flashed from the object back up to his eyes, and her whole form loosened in relief as she gratefully took the heirloom back.

“Thank the powers that be!” she exclaimed.

He watched her long fingers deftly fasten the necklace back around her bare throat. Her cheeks were slightly pink, no doubt from the cold, and her lips spread in a genuine smile as her sparkling green eyes turned back to him. That was when he noticed the red dripping from her eyebrow.

“You’re hurt!” he said, reaching for her face.

“It’s nothing,” she insisted. “Just a cut.”

“It’s a head wound. You should have it checked out.”

“And miss the Millennial Fair?” she cried indignantly, gesturing to the displays around them.

“Come on,” he insisted, pulling her hand. “We don’t even have to leave.”

He brought her to a healing tent – it was an tan-brown enclosure decorated in green streamers near the east end of the fairgrounds. He only knew of it because he and Lucca had made use of it too many times to count during previous events. There was a bit of a wait, but Marle was sitting up on a portable cot with a lollipop in her mouth as the medic took a look at her head.

“A mild abrasion. No evidence of concussion,” the healer reported.

“See!” his new friend spoke around the lollipop. “Told you I was fine.”

“I’m sorry I was worried,” he shot back defensively. He knew from experience that head wounds were not something to gamble with.

“At least I got some candy out of it,” she said, jumping down from the cot. “Where to next?” she asked as they exited the tent back into the winter sun.

“Actually, I’m really late to meet a friend. Will you be okay on your own?”

Her shoulders slumped and her eyes cast down at her hands, but only for a second. She immediately shot him another bright smile and extended her hand.

“It was very nice to meet you Crono,” she said sincerely.

He took her hand, but didn’t let it go.

“You could come with me if you like?” he invited on a whim.

“I don’t want to intrude,” she said, flipping the pendant that rested on her collarbone, mindlessly again and again.

“Are you kidding! My friend is running an exhibit and the bigger the crowd, the happier she’ll be.

Her smile flooded her face with genuine delight once again.

“Then I would be delighted to accompany you! Thank you.”

They weaved through the river of pedestrians passing an old man eating his lunch, a small girl chasing a kitten, and a band called “Prehistoria” played lively tunes as they made their way past. Lucca’s exhibit was at the northernmost corner of the fairgrounds, but when they arrived they both stopped in their tracks at the crowd of people lined up to enter the inventor’s corner of the fairgrounds.

“I don’t know if your friend needs extra bodies,” Marle commented dryly, as they joined the line.

He laughed. “Yeah, even when her inventions don’t work quite right, Lucca promises to show you a spectacle. People love to see the show. I wish they could recognize the incredible value that she offers.”

“You admire this Lucca?”

“She was my first friend when we first moved here. And has probably been my best friend ever since.”

“Where are you from?”

“Choras.”

“That’s half a world away! How is it possible you don’t even have an accent?”

He was taken aback by the question. No one tended to comment on his lack of accent. But thinking about it, that was probably because they assumed he was native to Truce. “When we got here, I was only six. And now that I think about it, my mom was insistent we learn the proper dialect of the land. She was probably worried that I would be singled out or bullied or something.”

“That’s too bad,” Marle commented, putting the shrinking lollipop back in her mouth. “I would have appreciated an accent.”

“What about you? Where are you from?” he asked her.

“I’m actually from this region! I’ve been here my whole life.”

“How come I’ve never met you?”

“You think you know everyone that lives in Truce?”

“Maybe not well, but yeah,” he said confidently. Certainly, everyone knew who he was – with all the trouble he and Lucca managed to get into.

“My father works up at the palace. We have some quarters there, and we’re not often able to come into town. But there was no way I was going to miss the fair!”

The crowd was suddenly moving forward and they were herded into the mini square with the next group. Lucca was facing her newest invention, her purple hair was peeking out of her helmet. She turned around to face her new audience, readjusted her glasses, and straightened her brown tunic. Crono grinned, watching her prepare herself for a long explanation.

“This is the Telepod,” she began as the crowd settled into place, gesturing towards two circle platforms on either side of the square. Coiled wires and strands exited the base of the blue platform like a bundle of coiled snakes connected to the boxy machinery and computer console. There was a monitor and control panel connected to each station. In no way were the two terminals connected together.

“The device creates a Super Dimensional Warp Field and anything on the left pod is transported into a inter-dimensional space and then brought back into our space-time dimension on the right pod. This works because inter-dimensional space exists everywhere and can be lined up with any point in our reality. So the subject is not moving really fast so much as being instantly teleported from one point to another.”

“Inter-dimensional space is not really a plane overlapping ours where there is a coinciding point for every point in ours, but rather it is a single point that connects to all points in our own reality as well as all other dimensions. So theoretically we could, once in inter-dimensional space, go anywhere, even to dimensions outside our own. The device, if synchronized correctly, should work just as well over significant distances.”

“Did you understand any of that?” Marle whispered into his ear.

“I stopped trying to understand Lucca long ago. I’ve learned it’s not so important why it works. Just need to know what it does.”

“What does it do? I missed that part.”

“You stand over there,” he pointed to the left pod. “You disappear. Then reappear over there,” he pointed to the right pod. “She’s been working on this for just over a year,” pride oozing from his voice.

“I see,” she said noncommittally.

“Let me demonstrate. Any volunteers?”

Silent stillness reigned. Several audience members in the front row even took a step backward. Crono smiled to his blond companion, and then began weaving his was forward, all the while holding her hand to guide her in his wake.

“I assure you it has been tested and is safe. The possibilities of being transported elsewhere or getting caught between realities are extremely remote.”

“I don’t know…” someone murmured loudly, “Lucca’s inventions never do quite what they are supposed to.”

“I’ll do it.” The red-haired swordsman announced when he had finally made it out of the crowd.

“Crono! So nice to see you… finally,” she said with false brightness, but he knew she’d give him hell later rather than during her presentation.

“Better late than never right?” he responded cheekily. Her blue eyes narrowed through her brown framed lenses.

“Go stand over there,” she ordered stiffly as she pointed to the left pod. Crono complied whirling around and smiled at Marle when they made eye contact. He then turned to Lucca, but her attention was glued to the panel next to his pod, as she keyed in various inputs.

“You know those other possibilities you were talking about? Just how remote are they?” he asked nervously.

She smiled at his discomfort, still not looking up from the console. “Hardly worth mentioning my friend,” she said as she keyed in something else.

“And yet, you mentioned them,” he shot back.

If anything, her grin widened. “Good-bye Crono,” she said, finally looking up at his face as she pushed a final button.

He felt the machine power up with thrumming vibration, the pad beneath his feet lit up blinding him as he looked down, and then the blue light seemed to swallow his surroundings. The square filled with strangers and equipment vanished from his senses to be replaced with an endless field of hazy blue electric arcs and rolling mists. He felt weightless and the only sound he could hear was his own heartbeat pounding through his head.

Then he was falling, his form suddenly pulled down like lead. He couldn’t pinpoint where sounds were coming from and his vision spun with double images - almost like for a second he was in two places at once. He shook his head and the sensation vanished, and he opened his eyes to find himself on the opposite side of the square.

The whole crowd had frozen so still that Crono wondered if time had stopped. But then the silence broken with an uproar of enthusiastic screaming and applause.

“Welcome back Crono. How do you feel?” Taban, Lucca’s father, asked.

He stepped down from the dais. “I feel fine. It was disorienting for a second, but I feel completely normal now.”

The older man offered him a pleased smile. “Glad to hear it. A few of the volunteers reported feeling a bit nauseous afterwards.”

He returned to his spot in the crowd next to Marle.

“Crono, that was amazing!” she gushed as he came back to her side. “I want to try!” she said ecstatically jumping up to the left platform herself in childlike glee, Crono slipping to Lucca’s side as she did so.

“So, this is why you were so late, even for you. How did you manage to pick up such a cutie?” his friend whispered teasingly into his ear.

“It’s not like that at all,” he said quietly.

“Uh huh.” Her tone suggested she did not even remotely believe him.

He glanced at Marle – her face bright and her eyes twinkling with over flowing excitement, and found himself grinning.

“You might be right,” he admitted.

“Behold ladies and gentlemen, as this vision of loveliness steps aboard the telepod,” Taban announced.

“Throw the switch Lucca,” Marle directed. Lucca was already keying all kinds of things into her pad. Her hands moved amazingly fast. She pushed the button. The whirl of power buzzed through the air for a second and then choked. The light on the pad began to flicker.

“That’s odd. It should have plenty…Hey dad, I need more power!”

“Roger that.” Taban called back. The pad brightened and thrummed again just the way it had, and for that split second it had seemed like everything was working fine.

But then blue lightning arced up from the platform, leaping into her now glowing ocean blue pendant. Marle screamed.

“Shut it off!” Lucca yelled over the noise.

Crono tried to leap onto the pad to pull Marle from the electrical storm, but he couldn’t move forward. Like the air had turned thick and viscous. His hair stood on end, and a bolt struck him throwing him back.

Sparks and electric arcs shot out in every direction. The panel exploded and Lucca screamed, collapsing the ground. Taban ran to her side. The crowd broke – half running from the square, others falling to the ground to cover themselves.

Crono’s attention remained on the blond on the platform – her smile had vanished, her emerald green eyes wide with terror.

“Marle, it’s your pendant!” he yelled, but she was way ahead of him. She had already taken it off and dropped it to the floor, but the reactive electrical storm had yet to cease.

“Taban, is there any way you can turn it off?” But his control panel had exploded too.

The air around Marle seemed to blur and darken into a crackling ball of dark blue and purple energy that multiplied in size like a growing sun. The very air above the platform seemed to fold in on itself as if dimensions were added to the normal three axes of regular space. And then it snapped back to normal like a rubber band, only Marle was gone.

And then it was horribly silent.

Lucca was the first to move. She slowly sat up clutching her head.

“Are you alright?” Taban asked.

“I think so. What happened?” She turned towards her invention. Marle’s pendant lay alone on the blue pedestal. “She’s gone isn’t she?” She stood up. But Taban and Crono were both ready to catch her should she be slightly unstable.

“…something always goes wrong…”

“I told you it’d be exciting!”

“How can you say that? Someone is…gone!”

Crono gave Taban a look and nodded towards all the people who were gaping at the aftermath.

“Okay folks, there’s nothing left to see here,” he waved the people out. “The authorities will take it from here,” They slowly wandered out. They looked as confused and bewildered as Crono felt.

“No doubt they will want to arrest me,” Lucca noted distantly.

“Lucca!” he snapped as he grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “What are you talking about?”

“I knew something was wrong. I should have shut it down then. But no, I thought nothing could go wrong and that I had everything under control and that I could compensate for the malfunction. I should have known better!” she was screaming at him now. “I was messing with space-time. A mistake is not exactly forgivable. She’s dead because of me!”

He shook her again. “Snap out of it! I know this is hard for you, but right now you are the only one who knows how this thing works. I need you to think. Are you sure that she’s dead?”

“Crono, if she didn’t show up at the target location nor reappeared at the starting point there’s no way of telling where she is. She could be anywhere and let me tell you it is infinitely more likely that she is someplace where no one could survive. She could be in the core of a planet - not even necessarily this one, or in a star or space, or even transported into the middle of the sky where she could plummet to her death. Or even in the empty space between dimensions. Hell! She could be in another dimension. There is so much more of all those potential dangers than there is safe land she can stand on.”

“But she could be alive?”

“I suppose so… Crono? Who was she? She looked familiar.”

“Lucca, if she is, we have to get to her. You have to figure out what went wrong.”

“It wasn’t the telepod,” Taban interjected. “We tested it dozens of times accounting for every variable we could think of including power spikes.”

“It was the telepod,” Lucca disagreed. “And the pendant. The warp field seemed to be affected by it. But how could a piece of jewelry cause a disturbance in the very fabric of space-time? It doesn’t make sense!”

Crono retrieved the necklace and handed it to the inventor. “Perhaps it’s made out of something unique?“

“Like what?” she asked, holding the gem up to the sunlight. “I will have to run some chemical tests on it to define some of its properties before I can truly tell you what might have happened.”

“How long would that take?”

“A week or two at best,” Taban replied.

“We don’t have that kind of time,” Crono objected. “Lucca, we know the pendant telepod combination caused it. We saw it happen. Let me take the pendant and you can send me to wherever it sent Marle. She might need help. Then you can run whatever tests on it that you need to.”

“Crono, I can’t duplicate the exact conditions. I can’t guarantee that you’ll go to the same place she did.”

“We have to try,” he insisted.

He was startled to see her eyes filling with tears.

“Lucca?” he asked.

“This could kill you,” she told him, her blue eyes swimming with barely suppressed emotion.

He seized her in a hug. “I’m not going to die.”

“You can’t know that,” she whispered, holding him tight.

“It’s his choice. Let him go,” Taban said softly. Lucca nodded and turned her attention back to her console.

Crono charged back onto the platform, picked up the pendant, and nodded toward his best friend, but she wouldn’t look up. “I’m ready when you are.”

She still didn’t look at him. He suspected she was crying.

“It’s going to be okay,” he told her.

“Damnit Crono!” she objected, now wiping away blatant tears. “You’re not helping!”

He grinned in spite of the situation.

“Here we go,” she had pushed the button, and once again the platform beneath his feet thrummed with life, the lights flickered underneath him, and he took a deep breath trying to prepare himself for whatever was coming.

“I need more power.”

“On it.”

“I need more!”

The electric storm surged all around him, arcing up to the pendant that burned in his chest. The air thickened and it was difficult to draw breath. He made himself drop the pendant – leaving it behind for Lucca to study.

“I’ll follow you after I know what went wrong,” she called.

He wanted to respond, but his tongue couldn’t form the words. He felt heavy, as if his limbs were suddenly made of lead. It was all he could do to remain standing. There was a dark circle spiraling around him, and Lucca and Taban were torn from his sight.

“Good luck Crono!”

The square was gone. Blinking stars across the blackness of space flashed across his vision like the entire universe opened itself up to him. Waves of blue, violet, and green energy fields flowed past him like he was caught in a wind current. But there was no sound, once again only his own beating heart throbbed endlessly through his head. He could not have said how long he was floating through this impossible space. It seemed an eternity – so long that he was certain Lucca had been right all along, that he would be stuck between dimensions for what was left of his life.

Before he could ponder his end further, he was pitched forward, the energy storm around him dissolved, and he struck the ground – hard. Air left his lungs and blackness overtook his vision.

Chapter Text

There were voices all around her. She tried to focus on them, but they were strange. The sounds weren’t quite right. They spoke the same language as herself she was certain, but it was all wrong. She tried to concentrate. Yes, she could understand.

“Where did you find her?”

“She was up in the mountain pass north of Truce.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“We have no idea. We have no way of telling what they did to her?”

“How did she escape?”

“We’re not even certain she was ever captured.”

“If she was never captured than how could she have ended up on that mountain?”

“We don’t know!”

She opened her eyes. Nothing would come into focus. Just blurs of colors and lights. Where was she?

“She’s awake.”

“Where…?” she tried to compose her thoughts. She tried to remember what had just happened, but her mind refused to cooperate. She sat up. The colors swirled around her.

“Your majesty, you must rest,” a hand pushed her back down.

“You have a concussion my Queen.”

“Yes, you must stay as still as possible my Queen.” Queen? Why were they calling her that? But she never managed to ask as the blackness once again enveloped her.

* * *

Consciousness slowly returned. Crono wanted nothing more than to sleep, but there was an obnoxious bird somewhere that refused to be quiet and something was digging into his rib cage. He slowly pushed himself up brushing twigs and dried leaves off his clothes and hands. He had been lying on a rock. What on earth had possessed him to take a nap in the middle of the forest? Where was this forest anyway? He tried to shake the fog that seemed to have captured his mind. He was supposed to have met Lucca, but he ran into some girl… Marle! She was gone and he had to find her! There was no sign of her. There was no sign of anyone!

“Marle! Marle!” he called in different directions. He was greeted only by echoes, and then silence. Crono tried not to worry too much. He had no way of knowing how long he had been unconscious so if Marle had managed a better landing than himself she could have left before he even showed up. He wouldn’t let himself consider that she might not ever have been here.

He trudged his way south for that seemed to be down the mountain. People would be more likely to live in a valley than on the top of a mountain. Eventually he was lucky enough to find a path so he followed that. It felt like a hunting trail, but for all he knew it might be a game trail. He didn’t know if there’d be any people. He made pretty good time though he had no idea where he was going.

The pine needles whispered all around him as the sun peeked through the tall pine branches. Eventually the path crossed over a bridge that lead over a canyon created eons ago by roaring river beneath him. A bridge was a good sign of civilization.

The path suddenly got a lot steeper. Loose rocks jumped out to trip him and he found himself stumbling again and again. He made himself slow down. It did not look like a short drop. Eventually it leveled out and the trees began to thin out before he finally found himself in a clearing. And to his fortune it looked like there was a town in the distance.

Distance it turned out to be. Seemed to take forever to get there, but get there he eventually did. He started wandering through town. The road was just a dirt path even once in town. People were milling through roads and buildings. The buildings were old and run down. The air of excitement that Crono had abided in earlier that day did not exist here. If anything these people seemed distant and detached as if they long ago had given up and resigned themselves to whatever fate had in store for them. It was depressing, but Crono had more pressing concerns.

He made a turn and stopped dead in his tracks. There was something familiar about this place. He couldn’t point his finger on it. He tried to absorb every detail, but it was all foreign. He dismissed it and started on again. Then it hit him. The roads! They were the same as home. This was Truce! Admittedly a smaller version of Truce, only the town center really, but the similarity could not be denied. Was this what Lucca meant when she talked about other dimensions? He walked into a tavern. Taverns were supposed to be good places to find information right?

Crono nearly fell to his knees. The fumes and smoke were so thick you could see them swirling around the rowdy inhabitants. These people had obviously found a cure to their woes. People were much louder than they needed to be dancing, singing horribly, and just being lewd in general. Serving girls in little blue ruffled dresses delivered drinks when not being tossed around. Crono thought it strange that these people were so obviously drunk in the middle of the day. One or two would be normal, but the entire tavern was packed and no one demonstrated any inhibitions. Even the maids! It didn’t make sense. Crono managed to make it to the bar. He didn’t cough too much, but it was hard not to squint. The bartender came over and said something. Crono froze. He had heard, but he had not understood. That could be a problem.

“Excuse me?” The man repeated what he had said. Crono concentrated on every word trying to make sense of the syllables. Then he said something else. His fingers ran through his hair. It sounded familiar just off slightly.

“Once again please? Slowly,” the man evidently understood him.

“You seem kind of young to be in this kind of place,” Crono went over every word in his head until he found one that made sense to him. The man gave him a strange look. “I won’t serve someone so young. I still have some morals left.”

“It’s fine. I’m just looking for someone.” The man grumbled something that Crono didn’t catch and turned away to help real customers no doubt.

“You stick out like a sore thumb kid.” Crono tried not to flinch as someone slapped him on the back. He nearly fell off the stool, but the man steadied him. “Relax kid. I won’t hurt you.” He slid onto the stool next to Crono. He took off a hat. Sandy brown locks fell into his burnt red skin that showed the shadow of new growth. His clothes looked like they had once been white but had since been sullied, torn, and patched past recognition. “I’m Toma,” he proffered a hand.

“Crono,” he said as he returned the handshake.

“Crono? That’s a strange sounding name. Where you from kid?”

“Actually, I’m from here, I’m from Truce,” Crono saw no reason to keep it a secret.

“Kid, you aren’t from Truce anymore than I am. You have the strangest accent I’ve ever heard and I’ve been to a lot of places. Your clothes are of a strange cut in the brightest colors I’ve ever seen in anyone not royalty. And Truce would never accept that haircut,” The man grinned. Crono glanced up to see the red clumps of hair falling every which way. He hadn’t brushed it that morning as he had been in such a rush.

“I was…” he was saved from trying to explain when Toma suddenly toppled off his stool. Toma shoved the man who had stumbled into him back into the crowds of people.

“Idiots will take any excuse to celebrate these days…” Toma growled, obviously disgusted.

“What are they celebrating?”

“You crawl out from under a rock kid? They found the Queen today in the mountains up north. Amazingly, she was still alive.” Queen? She had died years ago when Crono was a child. No, the queen from his Truce had died. This was obviously a different Truce. Then something else occurred to him.

“Up in the mountains? Did they find anyone else with her? A girl?”

“A girl? I haven’t heard anything about a girl, but then if they did find another I doubt we’d hear about it. No one will talk about anything but the queen. You’d almost think they all knew her personally. Lazy bastards.”

“Toma, give them a break. They have little reason for cheer these days with the war and all,” the bartender softened the rebuke by giving him a drink.

“What war?” Crono asked. They both gave him a strange look.

“Why the one against Magus and the Mystics of course!” the bartender scowled. Magus? The name sounded familiar. Where had he heard it?

“Kid, you must tell me where this cave you’ve been hiding in is? Not a single continent has been left unaffected. The Mystics have slowly been eating away at Guardia for over a decade. Guardia has not been able to win a single battle. Well, thanks for the ale Crono. Hope you find your girl.” And the traveler faded into the swirling smoke. The bartender was holding out his hand.

“What?”

“He said you volunteered to cover his tab.”The bartender said. Crono was certain Toma had said no such thing, but he rummaged out a few coins anyway, threw them on the table, and quickly left.

“Hey kid! What kind of money is this?” Crono heard the man call after him, but he was already through the doors back out on the dusty road. But he didn’t know where to go now. Obviously no one had seen Marle appear or they would have been talking about it in the tavern. But if she had appeared in the forest as he had there would have been no one to see it. But someone had been found on that mountain today. If they had found Marle as well and if her landing had been like his she would have been unconscious. Surely they wouldn’t have left her there.

So Crono set off towards the palace. He could see it in the distance not that he wouldn’t have been able to find it. This Truce was the same as his. The palace was in the same place too. Back home the palace was not allowed to deny entrance to anyone. People could come in with petitions for his majesty. Crono had even gone once when he was younger with his mother. It was about changing the deed to their home when his father died to her name. There were sections of the palace roped off for historical significance and set up as a museum. Hopefully this Guardia had the same policy. He had doubts however. This Guardia was at war. That nagged at him too. Magus. The name seemed so familiar, but he just couldn’t place it.

He wasn’t really paying attention and so was surprised when he found himself at the base of the grandest flight of stairs facing the magnificent castle that seemed to soar miles into the sky. People were coming and going, mostly soldiers, but not all. Some were on horseback and others were running on foot.

Crono tried to swallow his doubt and nervousness and began his way up the steps. No one stopped or challenged him. Everyone seemed intent on his own task. What those tasks were Crono could only guess. At the top of the stairs there was an archway that soared stories above his height. And then it opened into a garden filled with hedges, flowers and roses, trees, walkways, fountains, and benches. It was lovely.

He went straight through to the other side where two red doors almost as tall as the original archway he had gone through, were pressed open. People could walk freely into the palace? How strange. He stepped onto the magnificent marble entryway.

“Who are you?” Two soldiers immediately blocked his path. They each had hands resting on the swords on their belts. So did he. Damn the ingrained instincts! He instantly moved his hand away trying to appear as unthreatening as possible. “Show us your stamp collection.” Stamp collection?

“I’m Crono. I’m looking for a friend of mine. I wish to have an audience with the Queen. I believe she may be able to help me,” Crono bowed his head towards each soldier trying to be as respectful as possible. He didn’t have stamps or any other form of identification.

“There’s a war going on boy! Do you really think their majesties can drop whatever they’re doing to help you with your petty problems?”

“Especially dressed as you are with hair like that!” The other soldier scolded. “If you were expecting to see the queen you could’ve made yourself a little more presentable.”

“Please, I need her help”

“Her majesty does not have time for the likes of you. You have no business here. Now be gone!”

“You don’t understand…”

“What seems to be the problem here gentlemen?” A clear young woman’s voice rang out from behind him.

“Your Majesty!” Both soldiers dropped to one knee.

“Your Majesty, I have come…” Crono turned to face her and his speech trailed off. It was Marle. She was dressed in a flowing gown that was elegant in its simplicity. It was the same sea green as her jumper had been. But it seemed to bring out her green eyes more. The simple ponytail had transformed into an artistic masterpiece with ribbons weaving through intricate braids with golden curled locks that framed her face. She was gorgeous. Crono forced himself to take a breadth. “Marle…?” he asked so softly the air barely escaped his lips.

“Kneel before royalty you scum!” hissed one of the soldiers while practically knocking his legs out from under him. Crono went to his knee willingly. The queen scowled at the two guards.

“I am extremely disappointed that you would be so disrespectful to anyone,” she said softly. She didn’t need to shout. This was far more effective. “Especially to the man who saved my life.” They both gasped in astonishment. Crono looked at her intently. Was she Marle? She spoke like them. She looked like Marle. She claimed to know him. But these people thought she was their queen.

“Forgive us Majesty. We could not have known,” one soldier whined. Crono felt disgusted.

“Of course not. He’s really not much to look at at the moment now is he?” she smiled to herself. The soldiers took this as forgiveness and turned back to him.

“Please forgive our rudeness sir. Any guest of our queen is of course always welcome. Please enter.”

“Send him to my private chamber as soon as he has spoken with the king.” King? She wanted him to speak to the king? What would he say?

Then he chastised himself. A few minutes ago he had been asking for the queen as if she was a personal friend. Of course he couldn’t have known she was. But then again, was she?

“Follow me sir,” one of the guards gestured up the stairs and turned that way himself. Crono followed him up the marble steps, past tapestries and statues, suits of armor, and around so many twists and turns until Crono was completely lost. They finally came into a long red-carpeted corridor. Light streamed in from windows far above that were separated by tall white circular columns. At the end was a large gilded double door. In front of it was a short plump man dressed in a green uniform that was trimmed emerald brocade with gaudy strips of gold and lace interspersed. He was holding a small brass trumpet in one hand and parchment in the other.

“Name and rank?” The man obviously did this a lot because he sounded bored out of his mind.

“Crono,” He didn’t know what else to add to that.

“Crono eh? There any more to that name lad?” he scribbled something down on the parchment, presumably his name.

“Uh, no sir.”

“There must be. I can’t just announce Crono. You must have some sort of title. A place of birth, or a weapon proficiency, or noble deeds.” The herald actually had a really nasal voice. Why the king would ever designate him to a post that one had to listen to all day was beyond him.

“He just rescued the Queen from the Mystics,” his escort piped in. Crono clenched his fist.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” He now seemed much more than satisfied.

The herald pulled the doors open, took one step inside and performed a short fanfare. “Your Majesty, may I present the Master Swordsman Crono, Demonskiller, Savior of the beloved Queen Leene of Guardia!” he called out while performing a very elaborate, if overly done, bow. Crono winced at the introduction. It was full of self-importance and braggart that Crono just didn’t feel. He stood at the threshold not really certain as to what he was supposed to do. His escort pushed him forward.

“Put your right hand on your sword, stop before that raised platform and put your right knee down with your left arm behind your back. Don’t say anything until he addresses you.” Crono suddenly forgave the soldier for his earlier behavior and smiled gratefully at him.

The hall was filled with lords and ladies in elaborate court costumes of all styles. Most were overly decorated with jewels and ribbons with outrageous color combinations. What was wrong with these people? Didn’t they have anything better to do with their time rather than just stand there and pretend to look important?

There were two thrones on the raised dais. The right one was empty. The chairs were a piece of art. They were not meant to look pretty or impressive. Rather they were designed to make whoever sat in them look impressive. The empty throne just seemed to blend into the room. But the angles of the backrest, arms, legs, and even the seat all pointed to the king. He stood out in the overly dressed room like a beacon in a stormy night at sea. He kneeled down as he had been told and bent his head in respect. The king gestured for him to rise.

Crono was relieved to see the king was dressed much like the queen, elegantly, if richly, simple. He was dressed in velvet maroon robes with deep green silk tunic and pants to match. He wore a medallion as symbol of his office and a belt. When he stood up Crono realized he was also wearing a sword. He knew how to use it too. Like Marle said, it was obvious in the way he moved. This man was no glutton. His muscles were defined even in the loose clothing. He had a powerful square jaw that was covered in a beard that made him look older than he actually was. That was the point Crono realized. His blue eyes sparkled with suppressed merriment. The man was not smiling, but he had wrinkle lines that said he often did. Crono approved, not that his opinion would matter much.

“Master Crono, you are most welcome in my court and palace. I am personally most grateful for what you did in regards to my wife. Whatever boon I can grant please name it,” His voice was strong and rung out into the room.

“It… It was nothing sire,” Crono said in complete truthfulness. He hated that they didn’t know that.

“We would like to know what exactly happened, where you found her, how you rescued her, and what happened to her royal crest,” all this came from a golden robed dwarf that was standing to the king’s right. Crono hadn’t even seen him until he spoke. But how could he have missed that mustache and pointy white beard?

“But of course we will discuss these events later after you have rested Master Crono. You must be tired from your journey. You may find sustenance in the kitchens and I will leave instructions for the Captain of the Guard to find you suitable lodging for the evening,” The King interjected.

“But sire, such vital information should be passed on as quickly as possible. The queen was abducted from within the very walls of this palace. It is extremely disturbing that our enemies have infiltrated us so deeply. How are we to create new security protocol if…” which was exactly why the King didn’t want to discuss it now in front of all these useless court fops.

“That is enough Chancellor,” the King stated firmly. Crono winced. He would not want to be the recipient of that icy glare. “It can and will wait until tomorrow.”

“Yes, your majesty, of course it can,” the chancellor bowed and swept out of the hall. The king sighed in relief. “Guardsman, please consider yourself Master Crono’s guide and escort for the duration of his stay.”

“Yes, your majesty,” he clapped his hand to his heart and smartly turned on his heel before heading out. How did he do that? He made a short awkward bow again himself and then hurried after the guard. Crono drew in a sigh of relief as they finally exited the hall.

“If you recall the Queen requested my presence after the audience,” Crono was anxious to hear the ‘Queen’s’ story of what happened himself.

“Of course sir. This way,” Crono followed the guard through another maze of rich passageways. They eventually found their way to spiral staircase and made their way up however many stories, Crono had lost count. The stairs seemed rather steep to be walking in full-length gowns. Didn’t she get nervous having to walk up and down this spiral death trap day after day? Ah, but the view more than made up for it Crono realized when they finally made it to the top. Seas of forests and plains were speckled with small villages and sprawling cities. The horizon was shrouded in swirling mists that had turned to fiery shades of red and orange making it look like the land was on fire. The land was simplistically and elegantly beautiful in its vulnerability. The sight was inspiring. Guardia lay stretched out before him framed in the heavy brocade drapes that decorated the wide windows. Crono forced his gaze from the landscape as they arrived.

“Master Crono is here to see her majesty,” the guardsman announced to the Chambermaid? Lady in Waiting? Crono didn’t know. Soft voices conferred about what, Crono could not hear, but eventually he was announced and he entered the Queen’s magnificent and luxurious quarters. He noticed them not at all. His eyes were for the Queen alone.

“Would you leave us for a moment?” she asked her two attendants before Crono even had a chance to utter a greeting.

“Yes, your majesty,” and they both curtsied and made their way to the door. The queen’s eyes watched them as the left. She remained silent until the door latched shut and then she burst into a huge smile. Crono let out a sigh in relief. He had been beginning to doubt his sanity.

“Crono! I knew you would come for me. I was certain,” she paused and her smile faded slightly. “What went wrong?” Her accent was completely gone he noticed.

“I don’t know. Lucca hadn’t figured it out when I followed you.”

“If Lucca did not figure it out then how did she get you here?” Crono pulled the pendant from under his tunic and held it out to her. “My pendant…” Suddenly her face turned to panic.

“Marle?”

“Crono, something is wrong,” he quickly looked around the room, but found no plausible explanation for her terror. She was clutching herself tightly across her abdomen. He stepped forward to support her.

“It feels like I’m being torn apart. What is happening to me?” Her eyes threatened tears. He felt so helpless. “Crono, I’m scared. Please, help me,” she collapsed into his arms. But as soon as he caught her, the weight vanished and he was holding only a dress. She was gone.

Crono wasn’t certain how long he stood there staring at the empty dress. His mind was numb. He couldn’t think. He laid the dress on the bed and left the chamber. He walked briskly down the hall not certain where he intended to go.

“She dismissed you already?” the words cut through his soggy mind.

“She…she was fatigued,” he said lamely. Not certain why he felt it necessary to lie.

“She is resting?” the maid asked in disbelief. He nodded in response. “Oh. Well, we’ll not disturb her then. However did you manage? We have been trying to get her to lie down all afternoon! She should not be on her feet so much with that concussion!” Crono shrugged and turned and kept going. His escort was far too involved with the other maid to notice his departure.

He ran down the steps while his mind raced. He went through that bedamned portal gateway thing and against, what Lucca said were the unlikeliest odds, he had found her. She was alive and well. And then she disappeared again! This time was different though! There was no apparent cause. None that Crono could see anyway. Was it because they didn’t belong here? Was the same thing going to happen to him if he remained? He tried to force himself to calm. Right now he had to find a way to help Marle if he could. He ran his hand through his hair absently. Who was he fooling? He had no idea what had happened or why she was gone! How was he supposed to help or find her when he had no way to follow?

He finally reached the bottom of the stair well and nearly ran into some poor girl who was racing towards it. He reached out a hand to steady her when he jumped in recognition.

“Lucca!”

“Crono, did you find the girl?” she asked anxiously. Crono turned back towards the stairs.

“Yeah, she was… She’s gone Lucca.”

“Gone? What do you mean she’s gone?”

“I mean… she’s gone! She was there one minute. We were talking and next there was only a dress. You’re the scientist, you explain it,” he tried not to be angry with her. It wasn’t her fault.

“They mistook her for the queen didn’t they?” Lucca asked. He nodded surprised by this leap in intuition.

“How did you know?”

“Crono,” she leaned forward and whispered anxiously, “The pendant affected the telepod in a way I could not have anticipated. There is another element of matter that I never considered. It’s not only position that matters. Time is a factor as well…”

“Lucca!”

“Right, sorry. We didn’t go to another place or even another dimension. We went back in time. Approximately four hundred years if the current events are anything to go by.” That was why Magus had sounded so familiar! It was his history. Crono had never been very good at history. Textbooks had a way of making what had probably been some of the most exciting battles of the day seem like the dullest subject in the universe.

“The queen was kidnapped. As I recall someone was supposed to have saved her, but Marle looks so much like Leene they probably called off their search when she appeared here.”

“But why would Marle look so much like Leene?”

“Well, just by sheer coincidence the genetic lottery can create people with incredibly similar phenotypes though I suspect it has more to do with the fact that they are related,” at his uncomprehending face she continued. “Marle is Princess Nadia.” Crono felt an initial shock and then wanted to kick himself for it. It made perfect sense. The strange way the jewel keeper and Melchior had treated her, the rare pendant, and looking back through the day’s events she had carefully been avoiding palace guards all morning. They had been looking for the princess who had run away. And she was obviously accustomed to regal command.

“So why did Marle disappear?”

“Think about it Crono. If the enemy has captured Leene, and she is supposed to be rescued, but they think they’ve already found her they will stop looking. Meanwhile, the real Leene remains captured and is killed or injured in such a way that she cannot conceive children before her would be rescuers realized their mistake, all her descendents, including Marle, will cease to exist.”

“How can we help Marle?”

“Crono, this isn’t just about saving Marle. We’ve changed the future significantly. We have no way of knowing how much impact this will have. We could change the outcome of this entire war and wipe humans from existence and if we remain here much longer without doing anything we may cease to exist ourselves.”

“Lucca, what do we do?”

“We set things back to the way they were. We save the queen ourselves,” she said far too mildly.

“Isn’t she already dead? That’s why Marle disappeared isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. It just means the people who originally saved her have missed a critical step and are not going to. Nothing past that is guaranteed. But we can make a difference Crono. We are an uncounted factor.”

“Why don’t we just tell them the queen still needs to be rescued?”

“Crono, we can’t tell them what we know more than necessary or we may damage the future by giving people here knowledge of it. We made this mess. We have to fix it.”

“Fine, I don’t suppose you remember where she was found do you?” Lucca paused a moment eyeballing the ceiling as if it contained the answers she sought.

“Umm… I think it was in a Cathedral west of here, but I’m not sure.”

“In a Cathedral? How could you hold someone captive in a place like that?”

“Beats me,” she said shrugging her shoulders, “I’m not even certain I’m remembering correctly.” Crono ardently wished he had paid more attention in class.

“Well, it’s a place to start. Let’s go.”

“I don’t suppose we could get something to eat first?” Lucca asked wistfully.

“I thought you said time was of the essence.”

“Right… sorry. After you then.”

They made their way through corridor after corridor. It wasn’t nearly as difficult to backtrack as Crono had anticipated. Lucca only corrected him once.

“Why are all the corridors so empty?” Lucca asked.

“Mealtime?” Crono suggested, though he doubted it. No matter how big the kitchens were it was unlikely they would hold the entire palace residents, guests, and staff simultaneously.

“Maybe,” she said slowly no more convinced than he. “But wouldn’t you think after what happened to the Queen they’d have patrols or guards stationed ev…” Crono gestured for silence. He could hear angry whispers. Their pace slowed as they approached the bend in the corridor. Crono strained to hear the conversation without being discovered.

“…find…escaped from a room underground…guarded on…Send…port by dawn at…” a voice ordered harshly.

“Yes, sir,” they heard him start to turn away.

“And find out at much as you can about that red-haired punk,” the first voice called after the departing soldier.

“It will be done,” and the soldier footsteps faded down the hall. The first man growled angrily under his breadth and set off himself. Crono still straining to hear realized the footsteps were getting louder. He grabbed Lucca by the arm and pulled them behind a column. She gasped in surprise. The man turned around the corner and Crono tried to walk slowly around the column keeping the mystery man on the opposite side annoyingly out of site and still a mystery. The footsteps faded. Crono did not move, afraid to break the silence.

“Crono,” Lucca whispered, “I know you’re tense, but could you please let go of my arm now. It kind of hurts,” he released it immediately. He hadn’t realized he still had it.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she assured him though she was still rubbing her arm, “Well, that was certainly treasonous. Any idea who that was?”

“No, I didn’t see him.”

“So what now?”

“Do you think we could find either of them?”

“When neither of us saw them and have no idea where they’re going? Not likely.”

“Cathedral then?”

“Sure.”

They made their way through corridors and finally made it to the main courtyard only to find the sun had completely set. When had that happened? The day had seemed so short. How could it be nightfall already? Well, in all fairness, he had been knocked unconscious for at least a couple hours. He had no way of telling how long. His hands balled up into frustrated fists.

“Perhaps, you’re right Lucca. We should stay here, eat, and get some sleep. Navigating the forest in the dark would be foolhardy at best. But we should leave as soon as there’s light.” Crono was relieved to see that she didn’t jump up and down in relief, but merely nodded in agreement.

The kitchens were characterized by a low rumble of noise with the occasional crashing of shattering of falling plates and glasses. And the most delightful scents wafted all about the giant room. Crono hadn’t realized how starving he was until he stepped inside. Now he could hardly wait to get some food down to his rumbling abdomen.

“Have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment,” A maid gestured absently to an empty table as she spoke. She was in the process of moving huge serving platters filled with untouched meals and dirty dishes alike. Crono watched her and was amazed by her efficiency; she seemed to be everywhere at once. And true to her word she came back to them in no time at all.

“What can I get you?” She asked brightly.

“What’s on the menu?” Crono asked.

“We have all the usuals: Power Stew, Refresh Salad, and the Hyper Kabob,” she informed him, “Plus some monstrosity the chef invented at the request of the Queen called eyes cream,” she stumbled slowly over the name, “but I wouldn’t recommend that. Even the chef is not all that thrilled about it and he usually loves his own concoctions.” the maid finished explaining. Lucca was obviously trying not to laugh.

“I guess we’ll stick with the kabob then. That sound good to you Lucca?” she struggled to gain control of herself.

“Umm…yeah, the kabob will be fine,” Lucca managed. the maid gave her an odd look and scurried off. The moment she did Lucca finally let herself burst out laughing. The soldiers sitting at the table next to them all jumped at the sudden sound, which was enough to send Crono off as well.

“So it’s not enough that I have to feed the palace and half the army! Now they want me to accommodate every scraggly punk that walks through the bloody door!” someone shouted from what was presumably the actual kitchen itself. There was a pause. “No! I will not calm down!” the merriment in the common area continued as if nothing was happening. This must be normal behavior then, Crono thought to himself.

“Hey! Who’s he calling ‘scraggly punk’?” Lucca demanded, but it didn’t carry.

Crono caught sudden activity as two tables filled up with men wearing silver armor much more extravagant than the soldiers that were already here. Their leader was obviously the man in gold. But why would they wear such bulky pieces when in the palace.

“Where’s the food?” the man in gold shouted, “We’re fighting a war out there! Can’t you keep us fed?” Another man came out wearing a stained white apron with a mushroom shaped chef’s hat carrying a large platter with a huge roast on it came running out. The room had suddenly become eerily silent.

“You shut your trap!! These fine young citizens arrived before you,” the chef snarled. Crono grinned and Lucca snorted at this change of tone.

“So now we’re fine young citizens,” Lucca mumbled under her breadth. The chef placed the large platter in front of them. The roast looked delicious. It was surrounded with carrots and onions grilled to golden perfection with bits of pineapple draped over the top sweetening the aroma that suddenly filled their senses. Her eyes widened.

“You sure this is for us?” Crono asked. The chef didn’t hear him.

“My men just came back from patrol in defense of this kingdom! They should be your top priority!” Well, that explained the armor thing.

“You’re not the only ones fighting out there and you will wait your turn just like anyone else!”

“I don’t have time for this! Just feed my men alright?” And he was gone. He moved fast for a man in such armor. The chef grumbled under his breadth before disappearing himself. And the room lit up in gales of overly enthusiastic sounds and laughter in an effort to cover the awkwardness of the moment before.

Crono and Lucca needed no second urging and begun to dig into their meal. It was huge! There was no way they’d even be able to make a dent in it. So he raised no objection when some knights joined them and started helping themselves.

“What was that all about?” Crono asked one of them. The man gave him an odd look.

“What did you say?”

“I asked what that was all about.” Crono said slowly, patiently amused that there were others who had just as much trouble understanding him as he did them. Though it was becoming much easier now.

“Oh! Well, the Captain and the Chef have never really gotten along,”

“They’re brothers,” the maid told them as she gave them all mugs of ale as if that explained everything. “They both become the most unreasonable idiotic louts when in each other’s presence.”

“The Captain of the Knights of the Square Table is a great man! The Chef just rubs him the wrong way,” the knight quickly defended.

“Of course he is. But so is the chef. Just because they have differences in philosophy doesn’t mean…” she trailed off.

“Square table?” Lucca asked, “What kind of name is that?”

“We were named after the legendary Knights of the Round Table,” the knight told her with pride.

“Well, round makes sense. You can say that symbolizes unity or never ending or some other such nonsense. But what do you get out of a square?”

“Probably some old knight’s idea of a joke,” the maid suggested. The knight obviously wanted to object, but didn’t know what to say. Crono laughed as he stood up.

“Let’s go find this Captain, Lucca. He’s in charge of finding us a place to sleep.”

The Captain was more than polite without his brother around.

“Unfortunately, the only place I have for you is the barracks, which is less than private, but it’s the best I can do. Will that suit you?”

“Is there anyway we could have it arranged to be woken up before dawn,” Crono ignored Lucca’s groan at his comment. The knight laughed.

“I think we can manage that.” He put them in the barracks with the newest recruits who were woken up rudely every morning, thrown out of bed if they didn’t get up themselves, an hour before dawn to begin their day of physical training.

“Oh, that’ll be just grand,” Lucca mumbled under her breath. They were put across from each other. Lucca took off her shoes and her helmet and put them aside the bed. Her purple hair was flat from being under the helmet all day, but it framed her heart shaped face and brought out her soft brown eyes.

“Crono, how am I supposed to sleep if you’re pacing like that?” Crono hadn’t even realized he was. He forced himself to sit down. He took off his own boots and lay back, trying to relax if not sleep. His mind was moving in a blur so fast he could not grasp a single thought, but the churning sensation made it impossible to find sleep. But sleep must have eventually found him because he didn’t remember starring at the bunk above him the whole night.

* * *

Something poked at her side. She absently batted it away.

“Lucca, it’s time to get up.”

“Five more minutes,” she pleaded still not moving.

“I’ve been told that if I don’t get you up you will not be spared the treatment the recruits will be receiving.”

“What kind of gracious host throws their queen’s guests surreptitiously out of bed?” Lucca said forcing herself to sit up. The barracks were completely empty. How had she slept through that? Crono was just making sure she got up. She eyed him sleepily. It was positively eerie waking up so early in the morning and seeing Crono so completely awake and alert. He never did well in mornings. She really hadn’t been surprised when he hadn’t showed up to help her at the fair.

He handed her a piece of jerky with dried fruit and a mug, which she took gratefully. She wasn’t certain what it was, but it was hot and had the pleasing aroma of cinnamon and raspberries. Just what she needed in the morning. She sipped it slowly trying not to burn her tongue. She risked a peek out the window. There were still stars!

“I thought the whole point of waiting a night was so we wouldn’t have to go through the forest in the dark,” she pointed out softly.

“Dawn is only about half an hour off. By the time you’re awake and ready to go…” he trailed off. Lucca finished her food slowly enjoying the warmth under her blankets. It didn’t take her long to get ready though. She had never undressed. She tried to press her wrinkled clothes smooth but didn’t have much luck. With a sigh she bent down and strapped on her shoes and pressed on her helmet until it felt snug. She really usually only wore it when working on projects just in case something went wrong, but well, she felt more safe with it on and in this foreign place she wanted every security she could muster.

“I’m ready,” she told him and just as promised the sun was just beginning to peak in through the window.

“Let’s go then.”

The walk through the forest and to the Cathedral was less than eventful. They didn’t speak much. Lucca was still trying to wake herself up and she didn’t know what to make of Crono when he was like this. He was determined and purposeful, which wasn’t exactly uncommon behavior for him, but now there seemed more; a nobility that she hadn’t seen before. Lucca tried to shake the imagery off. She was imagining things. Crono was Crono. They had known each other for as long as she remembered.

Lucca had never really cared for church. It was not really a part of her lifestyle, but she had never held anything against it either. But this Cathedral – it was depressing. The colors that decorated the wall were dark and oppressive. The murals and stained glass windows depicted human in depravity and sin. The room was full of rows of simple wooden benches. They looked horribly uncomfortable. And there were four simply robed nuns sitting presumably praying.

“I hope people don’t come here hoping for their spirits to be uplifted,” she whispered. “They’d be extremely disappointed.”

“My, what delightful looking humans,” The woman licked her lips, practically drooling. Lucca tried not to shy away, but the woman was unnerving.

“Have you come to repent your sins?” another nun asked

“Umm…no,” Lucca replied nervously.

“It is our hope that all humans will realize their wicked ways and come here in the last hope to save their souls,” Lucca especially didn’t like the way they referred to everyone as humans. Her skin was crawling. She realized she was backing away from them.

“You at least ought to stay for the organ recital my dear. It’s a real killer,” There was something seriously wrong with these nuns! Nuns were supposed to be kind and caring. Nuns were supposed to make you feel at ease. Not make you want to run in terror for your life. There was something definitely wrong about this place. Where was Crono? She pushed past the terrifying nuns to see him kneeling on the ground near the steps that led up to the dais.

“What did you find?” he handed her a coral pin. She immediately recognized it.

“Crono! That’s Guardia’s Royal Crest!” She was excited they were on the right track. Her smile immediately faded. She dropped the pin. The nuns - no, they were not nuns - had surrounded them.

She pulled out her little air gun not really sure what it was going to be good for. It was just a toy. She over pumped it as much as she was able, clearly remembering a lecture her father had given her about not doing just that - that she might hurt somebody. She glanced over at Crono. He had his sword out. It wasn’t his normal wooden practice katana either. It was a real katana with a steel blade! Where had he gotten that? Focus Lucca, focus, she chastised herself. Who cared where Crono had gotten his blade?! Be thankful that he had it! And then all the nuns burst into blue flames. She was so startled she almost dropped her gun. The flames melted away and four pink half mermaid monsters with the ugliest faces shed had ever seen and claws, she couldn’t miss the claws, took the nuns’ places.

For a second, no one moved and suddenly one of the monsters was coming right at her. She didn’t even think. Both hands on her gun she pointed directly at the monster and fired. It shrieked back in pain momentarily stunned, but very much alive and more angry than hurt. Lucca frantically tried to pump up her gun again. Suddenly she felt heavy; it was hard to move. She saw the monster come at her, but she could not move in time. Her muscles simply didn’t want to obey her commands. She gasped in pain as the sharp claws raked across her arm.

She shot at the monster, but missed it completely. It was coming at her again and Lucca couldn’t move fast enough. It was going to strike her she stepped backwards, but it was unnecessary as Crono stepped in front of her and sliced the beast in two. There was only one left. Crono ran after it. Lucca continued to pump up her gun keeping an eye on the beast. Crono engaged, but the beast feinted and swiped at his chest as he passed. Crono managed to dance away. The beast charged her and she raised her gun and pointed it directly at his face, which was two inches in front of her, and fired. The monster toppled to the floor. Lucca stared at it for a few moments. It didn’t move.

“That was close,” she breathed.

“Are you alright?” she turned back towards him.

“Yes, I think so. Just a scrape.”

“Lucca!” Crono screamed in warning, but it was too late the claws were already painfully wrapped around her throat. She felt amazingly calm, but tried not to move just the same. The claws tightened around her throat. She whimpered in pain.

“You move, she dies,” it hissed. Crono froze, but he still had his sword out, ready to spring forward at the slightest bit of opportunity. Lucca found herself hoping he wouldn’t be too hasty. And then just as suddenly the creature screamed and the claws released her. Crono hadn’t moved. She turned around in confusion and screamed.

A giant green frog stood before her wearing clothes and brandishing a sword! A frog! She hated frogs! They were slimy and gross and… so many other nasty things!

“Lower thine guard and thou art allowing the enemy in,” he said calmly. It talked! It was a giant talking frog! She was dreaming! She had to be dreaming. She was feeling just a bit hysterical. The fact that she recognized it was no help at all.

“Thou art here to save the Queen?” it asked.

“Umm… yes, that was the idea,” Crono responded.

“I shall accompany thee,” the frog intoned. Crono began to nod in agreement.

“Crono! It’s a talking frog! I hate frogs!” Was that her voice? It sounded shrill. Yes, definitely hysterical, the rational parts of her mind that were left agreed.

“My guise dost not incur thy trust?” he didn’t seem at all rankled by her words. He must be used to it, she realized guiltily. He had just saved her life. “Very well, do as thee please, but I shall save the Queen.” He began to hop away.

“No wait! I’m sorry. I meant no offense. Please…you don’t seem like a bad person,” she winced the moment the word came out of her mouth. “Frog, thing…I mean,” every time she tried to fix it, she just put her foot in her mouth farther each time. “Crono!” she pleaded.

“Please sir, we could use your help and I’m fairly certain you could use ours.” The frog nodded, satisfied with this. Lucca sighed in relief. “What’s your name?”

“Frog will do.”

“Frog?” Lucca asked, “What kind of name is that?”

“I do not believe I stated that ‘twas my name. Simply that ‘twould do.”

“Oh, right,” Lucca said softly.

“The lair is deep within. Let us search the environs.”

“We found this,” Crono said handing him the pin.

“’Twas an engagement present from the prince to his chosen bride,” he spoke so softly that Lucca could barely hear him.

“Where were you hiding?” she wanted to know. His webbed hand gestured to the beams high above them.

“I was hoping to discover the secret entrance to the lair within,” he was aggravatingly calm.

“Did you?” Crono asked.

“Nay, I hast not been there long when thee and thy companion entered.”

“Let’s begin the search then,” Crono began to scrutinize the walls and paintings.

“How did you get to be a frog?” Lucca had promised herself she wouldn’t ask, but curiosity got the best of her.

“I was cursed,” he said simply. Cursed indeed! There had to be more to it than that! There had to be a scientific explanation.

“You know, your speech is even stranger than most of the people in this time,” she winced at the last word, but he seemed not to notice.

“I hath told thee, I was cursed,” he said again patiently.

“Have you even tried to talk normally?” She asked.

“I hath tried, but alas, ‘tis to no avail. The tongue is cursed along with the body,” he sounded almost mournful? Over the loss of normal speech? It seemed to Lucca he had bigger problems. He was an amphibian! She tried not to shudder at the thought.

She was slightly uncomfortable when Frog offered to help her bandage her arm, but managed to accept politely. It did hurt now that she thought about it. The three parallel cuts were deep, but they were clean cuts. No major damage had been done, but Frog continued to tell her the finer points on how to dodge the Naga-ette’s, as apparently that’s what they were called, slow spells as he wrapped her arm in a handkerchief that had materialized out of no where as far as she could tell. Then they began their search. It proved fruitless. They searched for hours. Pushed and twisted every little nook and edge. Nothing seemed to work.

“Maybe, there’s nothing here,” Crono suggested.

“And those?” Lucca pointed to the dead monsters. “I suppose those are there just for kicks.”

“There is something here. I saw the enemies leaving the cathedral.”

Lucca was certain there was something here. But she was just a sure they were not going to find it. She leaned back on the organ behind her just to clear her head. She jumped at the sudden sound. Then three chords played all by themselves, the far wall disappeared and a door took its place.

“Good job Lucca,” Crono grinned. “I knew we’d find it.” He opened the door and peered down the resulting corridor in both directions. “Seems clear,” he announced and then turned to her and made an elaborate flourish, “Ladies first…”

“You decide to be a gentleman now?” Lucca demanded incredulously. But she stalked forward anyway determined to not let any of the terror that she was actively ignoring seep through. The dimly lit corridor stretched on to the right, but it thankfully remained uninhabited. They made there way down to the end of the corridor and took a left. Suddenly there were so many different paths to take. How would they ever find the Queen?

Lucca let out a small scream. Something had grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. Another hand clamped over her mouth – a webbed hand. It was just Frog, she realized. She willed herself to relax and had almost succeeded until a herd of monsters began stomping past. Snakes with fangs, goblin looking creatures wearing armor, and more of the naga-ettes. When the echoes of their footsteps faded the frog finally removed his hand.

“’Twould be best if thou didst not alert the enemy to our presence,” he whispered. She nodded in agreement. She didn’t want those creatures to know where she was. Coming across mystics in her time was not completely unheard of though not common either. However, you did not see them is such numbers, nor so openly bent on the destruction of all humankind.

They made their way through the dark passageways. Lucca brought up the rear. She was much more comfortable with those blades of steel between her and whatever surprises might come around the corner. There were doors that lined the opposite wall at regular intervals but so far the wooden doors had all lead to disappointingly empty little rooms with only a pot of water or a crate or two. They looked like they would make great cells, but they found no queen. Of course such an important prisoner would be under heavy guard. Lucca knew it was unrealistic to hope they would find her so easily and yet Lucca still hoped.

The torches trembled in their brackets. Lucca froze. Another patrol was approaching. Lucca looked around frantically, but this time there was no convenient recess in the wall to hide in. She began trying to pump up her air gun forgetting that she had already done so.

“Forget that,” Crono hissed, “into the next room.” He gestured toward the next door. The regular pounding was growing louder. The three ran toward the door. The patrol could not be more than ten feet from rounding the corner. They were easily three times that from the door. It would be close.

Crono arrived first pulling the door open and sending the other two sprawling onto the floor of the room. Even before the door had completely closed the monsters could be heard moving past. A much relieved Lucca dusted herself off as she rose to her feet.

“Tha…” Lucca trailed off when she turned and found herself face to face with three monsters that had all frozen mid-bite in the feast they had been enjoying. Lucca would have laughed at the sight had she not been afraid for her life. She was terrified to move less she motivate some reaction. Suddenly the nagaette threw her head back and let out the most earsplitting cackle. Was that supposed to be a laugh?

“You al-almoss’ had me…” she slurred. “Those ‘er the bes’ disguizez I’ve ever seen.” She then somehow managed to somehow fall out of her chair. She was drunk, Lucca realized incredulously. At her words the other two instantly relaxed.

“Even in your condition you should know humans could never get into the compound,” the monster in blue armor scolded as he hauled her roughly back onto her stool.

“Of course not,” the third snickered. Lucca thought his face looked like it belonged on a gargoyle. “They are too stupid to figure out how to open the door!” Lucca wanted to object. She didn’t think the monsters could figure it out without the benefit of foreknowledge either. But she knew better.

Crono pulled out a stool and sat down heavily. Lucca hesitantly followed suit. Frog just lounged indolently against the wall obviously ready to spring into action the moment it became necessary.

“We just got in, but we’re going right back out after we report,” Crono explained imitating this time’s dialect fairly well as he helped himself and Lucca to huge servings of the soup. It looked normal enough. “Didn’t see much reason to change. But we did want to get a bite of some real food while we were here.” Lucca forced herself to take a spoonful. It didn’t taste all that bad. It had some kind of strange meat in it that Lucca didn’t recognize, but other than that it contained only ordinary vegetables.

“It was better a few days ago when he was still fresh,” The gargoyle one complained.

“He?” Lucca could not help but ask.

“Yeah, the messenger we caught about a month ago.” Lucca suddenly wanted to throw up.

“And those two soldiers we caught look rather plump and juicy,” the naga-ette licked her lips at the thought. She looked half starved. Lucca fought the urge to run. Crono shot a look her direction warning her not to act out of the ordinary. Lucca forced herself to keep eating though she carefully avoided any chunks of meat the soup contained. Crono seemed to fit right in. He ate heartily, though he did avoid the meat when he could Lucca noticed, drank the spirits, and cracked horrible jokes. Lucca did not hear any of it. She fought to keep herself from being sick. The frog didn’t move, but his hand was never far from his sword. After what seemed an eternity the gargoyle rose.

“My shift to guard the Queen, is about to start. I must be going,” he leapt to his feet and left. Crono made their excuses a few seconds later saying that too had to go and give their report. The naga-ette giggled as she waved cheerfully good-bye swaying in her seat. The hunchbacked soldier just grunted. Lucca could not get up fast enough.

She didn’t easily draw breadth until they had rounded several corners discretely following their former dinner companion. These vile creatures ate humans! There were cannibals! No, that wasn’t quite right. To be a cannibal meant you ate your own kind. But still…

The gargoyle finally entered a door. They waited a few minutes before following in.

“My liege,” Frog had fallen instantly to his knees. “It brings my heart joy to find thou hast come to no harm.”

“I’m so relieved you have come to rescue me. My stay here has been positively dreadful.”

“Crono, what’s wrong?” Lucca whispered to him when she noticed he was hanging back.

“Lucca, something is wrong. The Queen should be guarded. The Mystics are not stupid. And she seems so complacent. Like, nothing is out of the ordinary. She’s not scared or angry. She doesn’t seem even slightly distressed.” Lucca wanted so much for Crono to be wrong. She wanted them to have found the Queen so they could go home, but she knew what he said made sense. She stepped towards the frog.

It was unnecessary. His sword was already in his webbed hand held a scant inch from the ‘Queen’s’ lovely neck. He had made the move so fast to Lucca it simply looked like the Sword had just appeared there.

“Wouldst thou care to explain thyself?”

“Frog! What has gotten into you? I am your liege! How dare you threaten me with your blade!” she shouted at him.

“Thou is not my Queen,” he declared without a tinge of doubt. The Queen slowly smiled. Lucca recoiled. It was an evil smile. Blue fire erupted everywhere. It faded to be replaced with giant snakes. Lucca pulled out her gun. She hated snakes more than she hated frogs. Crono and Frog had already leapt into action cleaving the nasty things into pieces. Lucca aimed for the snakes coming at her friends from behind startling them long enough to keep them from attacking her friends. It all ended surprisingly fast. Lucca lowered her gun in relief. She felt numb.

“Lucca, you’re bleeding,” She glanced down and saw that the handkerchief had fallen slightly during the effort and blood was dripping down her arm from the previous wound. Odd that it didn’t hurt. She knew it would later. She noticed several other small cuts, but nothing worth worrying over. The others did not escape completely unscathed either. Then a thought occurred to her.

“Those snakes weren’t poisonous or anything were they?” she directed her question to Frog since he seemed to know something about all these creatures.

“The Gnashers? They are not as insidious as that.”

“I’m okay then,” Lucca said. “We should keep moving.” The other two nodded in agreement and they all swept out the door. They made their way through more corridors and passed countless doors. They all looked the same to Lucca. She had lost all sense of direction. The patrols were becoming more common and were getting harder to avoid. She supposed that was a good sign as it meant they were getting close to the heart of the compound. She refused to let herself think about what that meant to their escape.

They turned another corner and nearly ran into two of the blue-armored fiends who were guarding a door, but before Lucca could even think about pulling her gun both guards collapsed to the floor one gurgling and choking on his own blood his throat slit and other had twelve inches of steel protruding from his chest. Lucca tried not to look directly at them as they dragged the bodies to the next room so that patrols would not find them as quickly.

The door that had been guarded led to another corridor. Lucca was mightily sick of these hallways. She wanted nothing more than sunlight bathing her face. A picnic! Yes, it had been so long since she had spent any real time with her mother. She would get her father to help and they would surprise her mother with wildflowers and fresh air. She would love it, Lucca was certain.

Crono’s scream pulled Lucca from her thoughts. She turned and was shocked to see the claws raking down Crono’s back. Everything slowed to a crawl. She could not move. She could see the next strike would be at his face. He should be able to block it. She had seen him in action before today. His reflexes were so fast she often could not read his movements. But this time something was wrong. Crono’s movements were sluggish. His limbs were not responding. She could see his panic clear as day. He had been hit by the slow spell she realized.

Lucca moved without thinking. She grabbed a torch from its bracket and leaped the remaining two steps to Crono’s side. With all the strength she could muster she shoved the blazing fire into the naga-ette’s hideous face. It screamed in anguish and pulled back. It was all Crono needed. Spelled though he was there was no way he could miss the creature cowering and clutching at its injured face. Crono neatly dispatched it and then sagged to the floor in relief and pain. Frog had just finished taking out the other two naga-ettes with only minor injuries to himself.

“Crono!” Lucca caught herself from asking if he was all right. Obviously he wasn’t.

“Lucca,” he managed through clenched teeth. “Thanks for saving me.” She didn’t know what to say.

She found herself dancing around him awkwardly not really knowing what to do. His tunic was in shreds. His skin was torn away exposing raw red muscles. She didn’t know if she should touch him or if she would just make it worse. Frog gently pushed Lucca aside. He rose what was left of the shirt eliciting a sharp intake of breadth from Crono. Lucca watched half in disgust and half in curiosity as Frog flicked out his long amphibious tongue and ran it over the deep gashes. She wanted to object, but couldn’t bring herself to do so. She had no clue what to do for him. Then to her amazement the tissue and then skin began to knit back together until finally there were only faintly swollen pink lines where there were once gaping wounds.

“How – how did you do that?” Lucca gasped unable to contain her shock.

“I told thee. I was cursed. Tis merely a side effect.”

“Some side-effect!”

Crono twisted and stretched experimentally and then rose completely to his feet with a bright smile. All traces of pain were gone from his face.

“Thank you,” was all he said.

“Twill be sore for a day or two. The last evidences of the wound will be completely gone a few days after that.”

“There won’t even be a scar!” Lucca shook her head in disbelief.

“Let us linger no longer. The Queen awaits.”

“Right.” Lucca said, but then something occurred to her. “Hey! Why didn’t you do that to my arm before?” the frog actually smiled!

“Thee expressed a dislike for frogs. Thy wound was not severe enough to attempt to go against such qualms.” He made a strange croaking sound as he turned swiftly towards the other end of the hallway. He was laughing she realized. She wasn’t sure what surprised her more, the fact that he was teasing her, or that she didn’t have a comeback. She always had a comeback. Crono had already caught up to him. Lucca ran to catch up for the first time feeling better about their chances against whatever awaited them.

* * *

“So you see your majesty. No rescue will be forthcoming. Not when your loyal protectors believe they have found you already.” He sounded positively gleeful. She wanted nothing more than to beat that oily, self-assured, pompous look off his face.

He had to be lying. Leene tried to convince herself to believe that. How could there be another girl that looked exactly like her? Unless, it was a mystic pretending? She had become only too familiar with that particular skill. No, they had safeguards against such an impersonation. But why would he lie? He had no reason to lie. He had her and so had no reason to lie to her.

“You will be sent with the next detachment south tomorrow morning as planned to Sir Magus himself. He will be so pleased.”
What was left of Leene’s hopes plunged to new icy depths. She tried not to let her fear show. But the prospect of being directly in Magus’ clutches, the very lord of these evil unfeeling carnivorous heathens was a terrifying thought. How had she ever let herself be captured?

Going to church on a regular basis seemed a good way to let the people know that she had not given up hope. In reality she had always hated the place, but it seemed such a small sacrifice to make. She had ordered Frog to guard the entrance because he so hated the place. She hadn’t wanted to make him sit through the sermon. She thought there was no danger inside the Cathedral and that two guards would be more than enough.

They had taken her in with such ease. And now those two guards were probably going to be eaten. She shuddered at the thought. And she wasn’t going to be far behind them. She couldn’t believe that Frog would ever give up. Once he realized she wasn’t there any longer he would not leave the place not for anything. Unless he was dead. She refused to let herself believe that.

“My lord will see through whatever hoax you have surmised to distract from my capture. I will be rescued.” She said with confidence she did not feel.

“I must admit, your husband did seem quite confused by the girl’s odd behavior, but I’m sure he chalked it up to her having just had a horrible stay with the ‘evil’ mystics. But even if he does see through it, it does not matter. It is already too late. But you know what the true beauty of the situation is your majesty?” she refused to give in to his taunting. “I did nothing. It…” he trailed off at the sudden shriek that came from the corridor outside. The Queen shuddered at the sound, but it gave her a little hope back nonetheless.

“You are overconfident Chancellor. Already your monsters fall,” She regretted giving him the title. She still could not come to terms with the fact that he had betrayed them. To the Mystics no less. He had been her husband’s mentor and confidant ever since he had been a child. He had served in seeming loyalty for decades! She herself had come to trust him with her life.

“The naga-ettes probably just got into a brawl over some morsel of food or drink,” but Leene could hear his uncertainty. She took even more hope from that. After moments of complete silence the Chancellor rose from his seat presumably to chastise the guards when the door burst open to reveal three of the strangest people one could ever lay eyes on. She nearly cried at the relief that surged through her.

“Frog!” she took a step forward. Joy at seeing him alive and well consumed her. She should not have doubted him. He would never fail her.

“Stand back, your majesty. Allow us the honor,” he said as graciously and unperturbed as always. She hesitated only a second before complying making her way to the far side of the room. The Chancellor grunted whirled to the other side of the desk with surprising agility.

“Stupid frog! When will you learn to not interfere? It is time you jumped off this mortal coil!” The Chancellor erupted into blue fire and lightning so bright that the queen had to look away. When she turned back the most hideous creature she had ever seen stood in his place. She involuntarily took another step back and fell on top of a crate. The thing had claws that were as long as her forearm! And teeth! She didn’t want to think about its teeth. It had the body of an ox. Its limbs were more powerfully muscled and stocky than any elephant had a right to be. She was unaware of the tears pouring down her face. Frog was doomed. So was she.

Frog was not ready to admit defeat however. He never would be. She remembered the first time he had saved her. Years ago. She had been shocked to find the monsters that had been harrying her men dead at her feet and a giant frog standing calmly in front of her. He had told her his only purpose in life was to protect her. It had been the saddest thing she had ever heard. She had tried to drive him away over the intervening months. Her new husband had commented more than once on her green shadow especially when he wanted her to himself. But he had lingered. Even the king had come to recognize the frog’s unfailing loyalty and insisted that the queen stop pestering her protector. Over the years she had become so accustomed to his presence as almost an extension of herself. She couldn’t imagine him not being around as absurd as that was.

She could not bring herself to watch his demise. She buried her face into her knees and cried trying to ignore the sounds of battle. Oh how she tried. But somehow the echoes of steel clashing against claws and screams of pain, both human and not, reverberated through her skull.

“Crono!” the girl screamed. Leene could not help but look up. There were long thin steel rods that came to a needle fine point that were rushing straight down and the queen stifled a cry as she realized there were falling straight for the red haired youth. He was going to die for her and she didn’t even know his name. No, she did know his name. The girl had just said it. His name was Crono. She clung to that knowledge as if her life depended on it.

Crono didn’t seem concerned however. He just charged forward holding his sword out in front of him like a javelin. Frog charged from the other direction his sword held above his head. They struck simultaneously. The monster at a loss of how to fend off both at once was unable to avoid either and soon found one sword pierced into its soft underside as the other sliced across his neck. The creature let out a primal scream, but it already had another sword protruding from its back. It shuddered and fell to the ground. It did not move.

The queen stared at the dead husk in disbelief. Was it over? Her disbelief faded to relief. She was too exhausted to feel anything else. Frog was kneeling before her before she was aware of anything happening. His two companions stood awkwardly to the side obviously not wanting to intrude.

“Forgive me my liege. I hath disgraced thee.” She had never heard anything so preposterous, but knew to tread delicately less she damage his sense of honor. She took hold of his webbed hands and gently urged his head up to look at her.

“Frog, you just saved me. It is I who has disgraced you for doubting that you would do so. It is you who must forgive me,” she was distracted from what she was saying by a thumping noise behind her. She turned around. The crate was moving. She was surprised to note that the red haired youth had his sword drawn. When had that happened? He nodded toward the girl. She stepped forward with obvious trepidation and slowly lifted the heavy lid.

“Chancellor!” the queen cried with joy. She darted forward and pulled frantically at the ropes that bound his arms and legs. He pulled the gag from his mouth when his limbs were free.

“That monster stuffed me in there,” he said indignantly, his eyes blazing.

“Chancellor,” she said again. His expression softened.

“I feared greatly for you your majesty.”

“I thought you had betrayed us,” the Queen was mortified that she had done so. The Chancellor just smiled brightly.

“Quite understandable under the circumstances. But as you can see I did not and I am undamaged. Let us leave this miserable place.”

“You say that like it is a simple case of walking out the door,” the girl interjected. The Chancellor blinked in surprise.

“It is a simple case of walking out the door,” the queen explained when he didn’t respond. “That monster took to walking around as the Chancellor so that his human prisoners would not see through his deception. What is your name?”

“Lucca.”

“Come Lucca. Come, let us all return to the castle.”

* * *

The King paced back and forth in his chambers. His worst nightmare had come true for the second time in one week! The queen was missing. No one had seen her since the previous afternoon. Worse the Chancellor was now missing as well, as was young Crono. And Frog had failed to reappear when they found the queen. Something was dreadfully wrong. The more he thought about it the more ill he felt.

The queen had failed to mention what had befallen her beloved protector. And she had lost her coral pin. That struck him to the core. He had been so hurt by the way she had brusquely dismissed the loss that he had failed to think.

He remembered when he offered it to her. Told her that being a queen was often times a horrible and thankless job, but that he needed her help to find the courage to face the task himself. He had asked her to forgive him for even asking her to make such a sacrifice. The pin was a symbol of her office as it was the royal crest. But it was also a symbol of his love for her. He had it crafted in diamonds and sapphires to match her eyes. She had accepted immediately. He was so grateful that he had been able to marry her for love. That he had not needed to marry for political reasons. He would have lost all reason to fight this war if not for Leene.

How could she have been so cruel to him? No matter what had happened to her in the hands of the mystics how could she have done that to him? The Leene he knew never would. He froze. Leene never would, he was certain. They hadn’t found Leene. He had been fooled. She was still out there somewhere probably still in the hands of the mystics. They were doing things to her that he could imagine only too well. He had called off the search. It was his fault. How could he ever have doubted her?

“Oh Leene, forgive me for such a heinous mistake,” his head fell into his hands and he sobbed.

“There is nothing to forgive, my love,” he spun around at the sound of her voice. There she was. Her dress was in tatters. Her hair, usually flawless, had fallen into disarray with bits flying out and strands in her face. Her face was smudged with dirt and her arms were spotted with bruises. She had never been so beautiful. This was without a doubt his Leene. How could he ever have mistaken another for her? He bridged the gap to her immediately. He lifted a hand to her face still not really believing she was real.

“Leene, I…” she shushed him with a finger to his lips.

“No apologies,” she said harshly. “The only thing I want from you is a kiss.” He was only too happy to oblige. He breathed in her essence. Oh God, how he had missed her. The moment ended all too quickly.

“Leene, whatever it was that impersonated you will be found and dealt with accordingly.”

“Uh, your majesty?” only then did the king realize that Frog and Crono both stood guarding the doorway and a girl in spectacles stood in the corner examining some contraption in her hand. She had purple hair! He was amazed that he was still able to notice such details. He cleared his throat.

“Master Crono, it is you I have to thank once again for saving my Queen?”

“I suppose so your majesty though I really didn’t deserve it the first time if you would recall. And this time I had the help of my friends.”

“You have yet to request a boon.” Crono couldn’t help but fidget with that disapproving scowl looking straight at him.

“Your majesty, I don’t…” he cut off when Lucca elbowed him. “What?” She gave him a meaningful look that was completely lost upon him. She sighed in frustration then turned to the king herself.

“Your majesty, we would request leniency on behalf of the girl you found. She is not a mystic nor part of any conspiracy. Her appearance here was complete coincidence. She meant no harm.”

“If what you say is true then I have no difficulty in granting your request. Though I would not call it granting a favor to see justice done.”

“Then we will have to think on it your majesty. In the meantime would you excuse us?” Lucca didn’t wait for an answer before hauling Crono out the door. The minute they took their leave Frog came forward and kneeled before the king.

“’Twas fault of mine that endangered the Queen. I shall depart for good.”

“Frog, this wasn’t your fault,” the queen said gently. Frog merely shook his head.

“What will your self imposed exile accomplish?” the King demanded. “She will merely be without your protection. She will not be safe!”

“My liege I must go. If ever I can return, know that I will.” He turned quickly cape billowing behind him.

“He’s wrong,” the king grumbled to no one in particular.

“Hush, dear. He must do what he thinks he has to.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “In the meantime all the pesky retainers and saviors are gone.” She grinned playfully. He could not help but smile.

“Well in that case,” he swept her off her feet and tossed her onto the giant four poster bed, “Let me show you how much I have missed you.” She giggled as he made his way to her. How he loved her laugh. He couldn’t believe he had almost lost her. He shoved such thoughts and worries aside. He had a promise to keep.

* * *

It was so cold. The cold permeated through everything. She tried to rub her arms in an attempt to warm them up but she couldn’t feel anything. She couldn’t see or hear. It was like someone had taken a blanket and smothered her senses. A very cold blanket. She thought that she should feel something, panic or fear. She only felt lonely. There was nothing except the dark cold. She resigned herself to it.

She jumped as a warm hand touched her shoulder. Just as she started to relax she was shoved away. There was a light. She could feel herself moving towards it. She nearly cried out in joy as feeling and warmth began to return. Vague shapes and colors began to sharpen into recognizable objects. She was in the palace, in her chambers. No, something was not right. She felt she should recognize the difference, but she could not escape the fog that had ensnared her mind.

With a start she realized she was naked. She would have to fix that. She went to the wardrobe and opened it. There were rows and rows of formal dresses. She shuffled through them in distaste. The stuffy things wouldn’t do at all. With relief she found what she was looking for folded neatly at the bottom of the wardrobe, her green jumper. She quickly put it on and then tied her hair neatly back with the matching ribbon.
The memories of the day’s events were coming back. She sat at the table numbly trying to make sense of it all. Her thoughts were interrupted when the door suddenly burst open. It was Crono.

“Marle! Are you all right?” Crono asked. She burst into tears at the question.

“Princess Nadia!” Lucca was there too.

“Crono, it was awful,” she ran into his arms and sobbed on his shoulder. “I was somewhere cold, dark, and…lonely. It was so cold.” She absently began rubbing her arms even as she clung to him. “Is that what it’s like to…die?”

“It’s okay Marle. You’re safe now.” He caressed her hair.

“Welcome back Princess Nadia,” Lucca added. Marle tried to get a grip on herself. She never broke down like this.

“You risked your life to help me too?” she asked Lucca. Then what she had said sunk in. “Princess Nadia?” she pulled away from Crono looking from one to the other. She felt a moment’s panic, but it faded away and she smiled. They were still there. “I guess you guys figured it out huh? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to deceive you Crono. I’m Princess Nadia. My father is King Guardia XXXIII. I often run away and pretend I’m someone else. Its just people treat me so differently when they know I’m the princess. I really enjoyed being with you at the fair, but if you had known my identity you wouldn’t have shown me around the fair.”

“You’re wrong. Well admittedly, I might have stumbled and stuttered a little more, but I would still have shown you around. I’d even have helped you avoid all the guards.” He smiled at her. She liked his smile.

“Oh Crono, that’s why I like you. The real queen is safe now?” They both nodded. “Then let’s go home.”

“Your majesty, I do not understand how you could allow the king see you in such a state. Come, I will draw you a bath.”

“Don’t be silly Paige. Of course, I had to see him. It…” she stopped in her tracks as she entered the room. She looked as shocked as Marle felt. It was strange looking at a different version of yourself. “You…you really could be my twin.” Marle curtsied deeply.

“Your majesty, I do sincerely apologize. I never intended to take your place. It sort of happened while I was asleep,” Marle said sincerely. The queen gestured for her to rise.

“It is quite all right dear. As you can see I suffered no ill because of it.”

“For my own sake I wish you and your unborn son long and healthy lives.” There was a long silence.

“How did you know? I haven’t told anyone.”

“We have already said too much your majesty.” Lucca interceded hastily. “If you will forgive us we really must take our leave.” Lucca was already leading the way.

“Before you go,” Leene called to them. Lucca paused, “I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you to all of you.”

“Of course your majesty. It was nothing.” Marle looked at both her new friends. They had some explaining to do. But she followed them out of the chambers without another word.

“You will have to teach me how you do it so easily.” Lucca said as soon as they were alone.

“Do what so easily?” Marle asked genuinely confused.

“Speak the way they do. I can’t figure out how they make those sounds. I try to do what I think would work but it doesn’t really.”

“Its not that different and different vowels are easy enough. Especially when you speak eight different languages fluently.” She grinned.

“You know eight languages?” Lucca asked obviously amazed.

“I do. So what was that all about? Why did she thank you?”

“We kind of saved her from the Mystics.” Crono explained.

“Oh come on! You no doubt had a grand adventure and you sum it up in one sentence? I want details!” Marle loved a good story and she wasn’t disappointed. Their tale was complete with horrible monsters, magic spells, and an unlikely hero. It seemed almost unbelievable. They had finally reached the grand entrance as Crono finished the story, Lucca adding sarcastic comments now and again.

Even though they had told Marle about Frog it was quite a shock to actually see him in reality. It was literally a giant frog! It wore clothes, and it had a sword. He she corrected herself. The frog was a he, not an it.

“You’re leaving then?” Crono asked.

“Yes, twas my fault. It shan’t happen again.” He turned towards Marle. She tried to stifle a scream when he placed a webbed hand on her shoulder. She only half succeeded. She had expected it to be slimy. It was not. “Thy resemblance to the queen is uncanny. But thou wouldst not have fooled me. The King shouldst be ashamed of himself.” He turned away gracefully and moved down the steps. A graceful frog was a strange concept, but he was. “Crono, you hath potential to become a great swordsman. Do not let it wither.”

“Froggy, you weren’t such a bad guy either.” Lucca called after him.

“Shall we be off ourselves?” Crono asked.

“You know, this has been one of the longest days of my life. By all rights it should be over and yet you made us get up so damn early that it’s only about three or four in the afternoon. I say we leave now. We shouldn’t mess with the timeline any more than we already have. There’s no telling what the consequences might be.”

“Not to mention I’m pretty sure our parents are going to start worrying about us.” Crono agreed.

“Well, let’s get going then.” Marle started racing down the steps. It took a few seconds to catch up. The walk back to Truce Canyon didn’t seem to take nearly as long it usually did. But then Marle didn’t usually have friends to keep her company along the way either. They had reached a clearing in the forest that both Crono and Lucca were reasonable sure was close to where they had been deposited.

“So how exactly are we going to get back?” Marle asked having complete faith that Lucca had an answer. She had pulled out a six-pointed star shaped object that was on a short rod from her pack.

“Well, Princess Nadia it should…”

“Please! For the last time call me Marle.” Marle smiled to take the sting out of the rebuke. But if Lucca called her Princess Nadia one more time…

“Right. Well as I was saying Marle, it should be a pretty simple case of getting near the gate. You see your pendant didn’t cause the gate to be formed, but rather when interacting with the Telepod, it released some kind of electromagnetic energy that caused it to simply open. I call this,” she pointed to the star rod, “a gate key. It releases that same kind of energy. It is based on the principle of my telepod device.” She took another step forward and the gate suddenly expanded into existence. It crackled with spiraling blue energy waves. She involuntarily took a step back remembering her last trip through the thing only too well.

“This gate is much more stable than the first one you traveled through Marle. It will not drag you in. The telepod was what forced you through, and caused the violent trip, not the gate itself.”

“Lucca, you’re amazing.”

“Ain’t it the truth,” She declared confidently then she seemed to remember who she was talking to. “Oh, umm… I mean.”

“Enough with the false modesty. You have a real gift. I would trade my royal ancestry for your genius in a heartbeat.”

“Well, if you say so.”

“Anyway, I call this thing a gate. It’s a kind of portal that takes you to the same place in a different era. And now with the gate key we can use them as we please. Though messing with the timeline is probably not a good idea.”

“How did this gate come to be here?” Marle asked.

“I don’t really know. Either it had something to do with the telepod or it has been there all along. Or maybe something else made it. I just don’t know.”

“If you two are done trying to figure out how the universe works can we go home?” Crono chimed in.

“After you, my friend.” Lucca gestured elaborately. He stepped in and Lucca was not a step behind. Marle came last. She was actually looking forward to going home. A very rare occurrence. But then, there was nothing like having to face the possibility of never being able to come back to make you appreciate a place more.

Chapter Text

Crono stepped gently back onto the ground in Leene Square circa 1000 AD. Lucca was right. The ride had been much less violent. Lucca and Marle appeared only seconds later.

“I can’t believe we’re back. All of it seems so surreal.” Marle said.

“Sorry to put you through that Marle.” Lucca said.

“Don’t be silly! That was the most fun I have had in months! But I did miss the real adventure part. You both, as my new friends, have to make it up to me by coming over to the castle tonight for dinner!” Marle smiled. How he loved her smile.

“I can’t. I’m sorry, but I’ve got lots of work today, but Crono can be a gentleman for once in his life and escort you home, right?” she shot an accusing glare in his direction.

“I’m always a gentleman Lucca. Don’t know what you are talking about.” She smiled at him and dashed off. He suspected her of matchmaking, but for once he really didn’t mind. Though he probably had no chance with a princess. He could dream though.

“Marle? Do you mind if we stop off at my house before we go? It’s more or less on the way.” They had been gone for more than a day and his mother had a tendency to worry.

“Love to. If I know where you live I can come bother you all the time. You’ll have to teach me to use that sword!”

Arm in arm they walked back through the fair. It was amazing how little it had changed. The fair seemed to pale in significance after what they had just done. The events of the day were unbelievable. No one would ever believe him if he told. It didn’t take all that long to get home. He really didn’t live that far away. He found his mother out in the backyard hanging up laundry.

“Hi mom! I’m sorry I didn’t come home last night.” She seemed surprisingly unconcerned.

“It’s alright dear. Taban stopped by and said Lucca needed your help with a problem with her telepod and that if it took too long you’d probably just spend the night there. Did you manage to fix it?”

“Umm… yeah, we did actually,” Crono managed to respond startled by the change in the situation. He was extremely relieved he was able to be completely truthful.

“Oh good. It’d be a shame if it didn’t work. Such a fascinating idea.”

“You have no idea.” Marle chimed in.

“My, who’s your pretty new friend?” his mom turned and smiled.

“Oh, mom this is Marle. Marle, this is my mom, Gina.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too dear. Would you like to stay for dinner tonight?”

“Actually mom, Marle was going to treat me out.” She turned an angry scowl in his direction.

“What a preposterous notion! You do not let her pay! That’s not the kind man I have raised you to be.” She chased him around the yard swinging a wet shirt at him. Marle broke down into fits of laughter.

“Okay! Okay! You win!” Crono called back at his mother. She finally ceased when they had come back to Marle.

“You’ll see to it that he doesn’t give into such nonsense won’t you my dear?”

“You have my word.” Marle replied seriously. “If there is any paying to be done Crono will be the one to do it.”

“Good. All right Crono, don’t let me keep you. You obviously have more interesting things to be doing.” She smiled to let him know that she wasn’t upset. “Don’t stay out too late.”

“I won’t.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek then took Marle’s hand into his own and forcefully pulled her away.

“It was nice to meet you!” Marle called back to his mother. The woman waved back at her. “You don’t have to grab me like some kidnapper!” She mock scolded him before bursting into laughter. He couldn’t help but smile.

People milled about on the streets everywhere. It wasn’t solid wall-to-wall bodies being pressed together as it had been that morning, but it was still very crowded for Truce. It made their progress much slower than it normally would have been.

“So what’s for dinner?” Crono asked.

“I don’t know. I was not present this morning to receive the day’s menu. I guess we are both in for a surprise. Not to worry though – we have an excellent chef – she is not capable of making anything less than delectable.”

“Delectable? I’m not even sure if I know what that means.” He laughed.

The time passed quickly for Crono. Marle was incredibly easy to talk to though everything kept coming back to the events of the day. They decided they would look up some of their new friends in the old palace records to see what happened to them, particularly Frog. Maybe history would be easier to learn now that he had faces of real people to ascribe to it.

Crono was amazed to find them already at the foot of the grand stairs that lead up to the palace. It felt as if no time had transpired especially when comparing it to the long arduous trek he had made to the same place four hundred years in the past. He attributed the change in perception to his lovely companion. It was strange – he had never laid eyes on the palace more than once in his life and here he was for the second time the same day. Well, sort of the same day.

As they entered the foyer it amazed Crono how much the palace had not changed in four hundred years times. Certainly some of the tapestries were different and the drapes and carpets had been replaced probably more than once, but the place was much the same.

“Princess Nadia!” A man in deep green silk robes came running up to them. He could move surprisingly fast for one of his seeming years. “You have been missing for days. We have been most worried. We had soldiers out looking for you.”

“Chancellor, I am fine.” Marle said simply and then the small old man turned toward him.

“So you’re the one huh?” The Chancellor accused him. “You’re the one who tried to kidnap the princess!” Crono was at a loss for words. It was all he could do to stare at the man in shock.

“No! Crono’s…” Marle attempted to intercede on his behalf.

“Admit it!” The Chancellor shrieked, “You confused her so that you could seize the throne!” Crono was beginning to come to his senses. The accusations were so outrageous that Crono would have laughed had the Chancellor not been so obviously serious. No one would believe this. Would they?

“Guards! Seize him!” Suddenly there were four blue uniformed men coming straight at him. He attempted to draw his sword, but it was too late. The soldiers had him surrounded and were way too close. He had no room to maneuver. The hard impact to his head sent him sprawling. Marle’s shrill scream pierced through him as he hit the floor. What had happened?

* * *

Marle flung the door open. She noted the loud crash of the door slamming into the wall with some small amount of satisfaction.

“What is the meaning of this?!” She screamed her hands clenched into fists. The scene before her did nothing to cool her rage. Her father sat in his luxurious overly large padded leather chair in the middle of his chambers with a glass of wine in one hand and some sweet confection that he was hand-feeding to the young woman who was giggling on his lap. She couldn’t have been much older than herself. It was all Marle could do to not leap across the intervening space and attack him where he sat. But amazingly she just stood there waiting, and glaring of course, expectantly.

The king sighed audibly. He set his glass down on the small table beside him. And slowly brought the girl to her feet.

“I’m so sorry my dear, but would you please excuse us?” The girl was pouting! “I will make it up to you I promise.” The king said softly grinning stupidly. Marle was disgusted. The girl glared daggers at Marle as she passed. Marle did not care in the least if the empty headed nitwit was less than pleased at her violent interruption.

“What is it Nadia?” He asked tiredly.

“I demand to know when you plan to stop playing with your toys and plan to start ruling the kingdom instead of letting that bedamned Chancellor take over your position and authority! And since when has it been a crime for me to bring home a friend?”

“Nadia, I trust the Chancellor with my life and he has not stolen my position or my authority.” He was so calm! How could he remain so calm?

“No, he didn’t have to. You just rolled over and gave it to him!”

“Nadia, what is this about?”

“I had brought a friend to the palace and the minute we walk in the Chancellor has him arrested!”

“I’m sure the Chancellor has some evidence against him – a reason for having him arrested.” Marle wanted to scream at him.

“He has nothing that holds any amount of truth father! You must order his release immediately!”

“I have no authority over the courts Nadia. You know that.”

“The courts?”

“Yes, Nadia. If your friend was arrested he will be put up for trial. Once charged with a crime I can do nothing.” Courts? Trial? What was he talking about?

“Father what courts are you talking about?” He looked at her oddly.

“You know, the court system of justice was established Chancellor Bornadieu in the year 607. Are you alright?”

“But Chancellor Bornadieu died in the year 600 when the Queen…” she trailed off. The Chancellor had been killed when a mystic of the name Yakra had impersonated him – when the Queen Leene had been kidnapped, but Crono had changed that. What else could have changed? What had they done?

* * *

“What do you mean you don’t need my testimony?” Lucca demanded of the noxious attorney. She was amazed that she had been admitted to his office – it had been her third attempt. She hadn’t managed to contact Marle either. Apparently the princess was not allowed visitors who might attempt to ‘further ensnare her mind’. “I can confirm Crono’s entire story. No one else can. Your witnesses offer nothing substantial! So what if Crono saved a kitten! What has that got to do with anything?! How can you expect to make a case when the princess is being written off as drugged and Crono’s story sounds too crazy to be believable? You need me for corroboration.”

“That’s exactly the point my dear.” Lucca spun at the new voice behind her. It was the Chancellor. He nodded to the attorney who quickly made his departure. Lucca jumped to her feet.

“If you think you can keep me quiet you’ve got another thing com-”

“I do not need to do anything to keep you quiet. You will do that quite on your own. It was your telepod that caused the princess to vanish after you were certain that nothing could go wrong. And you stated in front of all that it would work just as well over great distances. So just before you spill your story, do remember that with a snap of my fingers you will be joining your friend in his fate.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Why no my dear,” he replied serenely. “We both know that I am an honest state official. I am merely pointing out the truth of the matter.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game Chancellor. If there are enough of us with consistent stories it will be harder and harder for you to prove your case. It won’t be as easy for you to arrest me!”

“I think you underestimate my influence my dear. You of all people should know that accidents can occur anywhere. I would hate to see something befall someone close to you in your own home…yet again.”

“Why are you doing this?” She demanded angrily. It made no sense to Lucca to frame Crono for kidnapping the princess. Why was this Chancellor out to destroy him?

“Why to see that justice is done of course.” He turned gracefully his robes swirling around him and vanished. Lucca was furious, but she was also afraid. But she couldn’t give up. If she did what would happen to Crono?

“I need to get a real gun,” Lucca mumbled to herself.

* * *

When Crono came to he didn’t know where he was. His head was trying to escape his skull with its incessant pounding. He breathed in the damp and musty air. It was less than pleasant. He sat up fighting the stiffness in his back that certainly was not helped by the lumpy excuse of a mattress. He took stock of his surroundings. A small round metal table sat bolted into the far corner. A set of rusted manacles remained attached to the far brick wall. He thanked the powers that be that he did not occupy them. A single window, so narrow and small it barely deserved the name, occupied the adjacent wall. And of course metal gate bars blocked the only door. Two guards stood on the other side of the gate. He was obviously in prison. But why was he there? The memory of arriving at the palace slowly came back. He really needed to not abuse his head so much or his memory would become permanently damaged.

Crono pulled himself to his feet slowly making sure he had no lingering dizziness or nausea. Once certain he was in no danger of fainting he began to stretch out his legs and his back. Crono was uncertain if the stiffness was due to his arrest being so brutal or the healing Frog had given him. Maybe it was both. He needed exercise. This cell did not suit his purposes however. He turned to the guards.

“I don’t suppose you ever let out your prisoners for a little recreational purposes,” Crono forced himself to be friendly. These people were just doing their jobs.

“You have been charged with a capitol offense,” One guard explained coldly not even turning to acknowledge him. “You are not allowed any visitors and you will not leave this room until your trial date after which time you will come straight back here to await your execution.” So much for the idea of making friends with the guards.

“Execution?” What was even the point of attending a trial if the decision had already been made?

“We have an appearance to maintain,” the guard responded. His frozen demeanor changed not at all.

Crono flopped back onto his cot. It was ironic really. He had gone back in time – a truly unbelievable story – to save someone he hardly knew at great personal risk to himself, according to Lucca, who turned out to be a princess no less! A princess that had been missing. So he brings her home and they arrest him on site for kidnapping her. That had to have been the worst kidnapping in history. What kind of kidnapper brings the kidnappee home? Crono couldn’t believe people were buying this garbage. But there was nothing he could do about it here or now. He could only wait until the trial.

“When is my trial?” he called back to the guard.

“At dawn.” Figures that they would be deciding his fate so early in the morning. He wouldn’t be awake enough to object!

* * *

“Your Highness, is there something in particular you are searching for?” the historian of the archives asked her. Marle was too busy tearing through vellum scrolls that contained records of precedent setting court cases to really hear him.

“Hmm? What was that?” Marle responded absently.

“I asked your highness if there was something specific you are looking for. I might be able to help you find it.”

“Yes,” Marle responded still never taking her attention from what she was reading, “But I’m not certain what that specific thing is. I’m trying to find some record that will allow me to release Crono from prison due to insufficient evidence against him. Something that says the arrest itself was not legitimate.”

“Princess, I’m afraid…” the librarian began.

“Don’t say it!” Marle interrupted harshly pulling herself from her texts for the first time just to glare at the man. “There has to be something! If they go through with this trial and they find him guilty then Crono will be…” Her throat choked up and tears threatened to spill over. She fought them off, but she couldn’t bring herself to finish. Instead, she turned back to the scrolls in front of her and continued her search. The librarian simply shook his head in sadness knowing her search was futile.

* * *

Lucca readjusted the oil lamp to make the flame as bright as possible. She really wanted to use the electric lamp that her father had invented when she was but a girl, but then her parents would notice that she was awake and they would want to know what she was doing and why. Lucca shook her head. It was just better if they didn’t know. Then they couldn’t try to stop her. Not that they would succeed if they did try. This was something she had to do.

It had taken her hours to come up with this design. The ingenuity in it was in the bullets not really the gun. It really was a waste though. Spending hours of time on the circuitry of each individual bullet when the little things were just going to explode on impact destroying all her hard work. Of course that’s what the circuit was supposed to do, but still…

Lucca forced her thoughts back to the problem at hand. She only had four bullets finished so far and while she had no idea how many she would actually need she knew that four almost five would not be enough. She planned to make as many as possible before she needed to set out on her self-imposed mission. Of course she had no idea when she needed to have these little suckers ready, but she would. And she would be ready.

Lucca was trying to force the last tiny wire into its place in the circuit. It was not cooperating. Just as the little wire finally started to fall into the hole her grip on the pliers slipped and the force she was pushing forward sent the pliers slamming onto the workbench sending tools clashing to the floor. She winced at the sound and turned toward the door. Sure enough the light came on in the room across the hall. Damn it! But she ignored the sounds of movement and turned back to her bullet at hand, took the pliers up, and tried again. Ironically it slid right into its slot and remained firmly set in place.

“Lucca, what are you doing?” it was her father. He was still not really awake.

“I’m working,” she responded calmly, “ What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Lucca, why are you up? You need your sleep. We have to wake early to attend the trial.”

“I’m not going to the trial,” she said still not looking up from her work.

“I’m surprised at you Lucca. I would think that you would care about Crono’s fate. That you would go to support him.” Lucca banged the worktable in frustration.

“Of course I care!” she struggled to keep her voice at a reasonable volume. “I went to the Justice Office today to offer my testimony. They wouldn’t take it. They wouldn’t take it father! You know why? The Chancellor has done everything he can with bribes and blackmail to ensure that Crono will lose and be…” her sobs choked off Crono’s fate. She couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud. Her tears came on only stronger as she was enveloped in her father’s arms.

“He threatened you and mother. He reminded me I should know that accidents could happen in the home at any time.” Lucca looked up into her father’s eyes. “I couldn’t put her through something like that again…” The wracking sobs consumed her once again. Her father just held her close while stroking her hair.

“What happened to your mother wasn’t your fault Lucca,” he reminded her gently.

“I know,” she pulled away and began wiping the tears from her face. She straightened her tunic trying to regain her composure. “I know,” she said again. “But just the same I cannot allow something like that to happen again. But… but I can’t let Crono die either.”

“Lucca what are you planning?” her father asked urgently suddenly suspicious. Lucca knew he was worried for her.

“I’m modifying the zonker.”

“Lucca! You can’t—”

“I realize that as my father you want to tell me that I shouldn’t or can’t do this. That you forbid it. Say what you feel you must but I have to do this. Crono’s very life could depend on it.” Lucca was amazed at how calm her voice sounded. It was not what she felt at all. Her father considered her for a moment.

“Let me see those designs…” he said finally. Lucca complied relieved that he wasn’t going to fight her on this. “This is well done, but…” and he launched into techniques to improve upon her initial ingenuity.

* * *

Crono couldn’t sleep. Not that he really wanted to, but he thought that it might make time go by more quickly. This enforced idleness was going to drive him insane. And there wasn’t much else to think about besides his pending trial. Crono did not feel optimistic about his chances either. The very fact that he could end up in this stifled moldy cell proved that all rational thought had been thrown violently out the narrow slit, that someone had the gall to call a window. So Crono just tossed and turned trying to get comfortable, but it was beyond a lost cause. Guardia’s prison guards’ concept of comfort seemed to have faded into a tiny unseen crevasse of reality.

Crono found himself staring out the window. He could still see the stars. They twinkled brightly. How Crono envied them. The stars had the whole sky to fill and occupy. Crono was trapped in a cage. He tried to feed his frustration to the stars that were so calm, so bright. They seemed to promise a brighter future.

A sharp point jabbed him in the side and he sat straight up. It was a knife. The guard was jabbing him with a knife. Crono was instantly awake. He was amazed that he had been found asleep. He didn’t remember falling asleep, but he must have.

“Time to go,” the guard stated gruffly. Crono held his hands together obediently so they could be bound and turned to look out the window once more. The stars were gone.

* * *

Crono was pushed roughly into a seat at the center of immense courtroom. Despite the circumstances Crono could not help but admire his surroundings. Marble tiles of a deep ocean hue spiraled across the floor to areas reserved for spectators. That area was surprisingly empty. Only a few scattered noblemen sat in their comfortable plush chairs and Crono knew none of them. They were dressed in brightly colored silks and velvets. They were the present day version of the useless court fops that he encountered briefly in the past. He ignored them best he could. The guard informed him that the jury sat in raised balconies all around the circular room. The set up truly reminded him of an opera house. I am not entertainment! He thought indignantly. At the center of the wall in front of him was a raised dais with the Chancellor on one side and a middle aged oily man that Crono didn’t know on the other.

But it was the stained glass window located behind the two men that truly dominated the room. The window portrayed a king standing proud and tall surrounded by rose vines with an hawk perched on his staff that seemed to oversee all ensuring that justice was done. Crono thought it fit perfectly that mural depicted the King Guardia XXI who had been honest and had a sincere desire that the truth be upheld. Crono was saddened by the events taking place that so grossly misrepresented the epic portrayal.

As the sun rose glass display gradually lit up throwing dazzling colorful patterns everywhere in the room that slowly shifted as the sun rose higher. During this time the judge strolled in silently and took his seat. Crono could only make out the man’s silhouette with the bright colored lights directly behind him. He was a large stocky man, but not at all fat. He had long hair pressed into curls, though that was probably a wig. Within a few minutes the sun gradually rose until it was no longer shining directly through the window and the judge gradually became clearer. Talk about a dramatic entrance.

“There will be order!” The judge declared harshly pounding his gavel forcefully into the stand before him. Crono decided it would not be prudent to point out that the room had grown completely silent since the sun rose. The judge sat up straighter if that was possible.

“Chancellor, you may proceed,” He nodded slightly to the small oily man on his right.

“Noble lords and ladies of the court and jury I, First Chancellor Tonaal and Advisor to the King, would first like to most humbly apologize for pulling you away from the festivities and celebrations. Unfortunately I have encountered a most urgent matter, which requires your immediate consideration.” Crono clenched his fists in frustrations. The bastard was good with words all right. The trial had not even begun and already the Chancellor had the jury ingratiated to him.

“This man kidnapped the young vulnerable Princess Nadia and confused and brainwashed her to thinking that his intentions sere purely honorable with the goal of performing a coupe and seizing the throne by forcing the hand of our princess in marriage after ravaging her. He is quite simply a terrorist.” The Chancellors gaze traveled upward.

“You, the jury, shall decide his fate. See to it that he gets what he deserves for having such evil intentions toward our princess.” The Chancellor bowed respectfully before he gracefully took his seat. Then the other man that Crono didn’t know stood addressed the court around him.

“I am First Councilor Pierre, of the Justice Office and I represent the accused. Crono, a delightful young man in the prime of his life, has been charged with premeditated abduction of royalty. I challenge this accusation. Crono met the princess completely by accident. He hadn’t even been aware that she was the princess. And they spent the afternoon and evening together as any teenage couple would.” Crono groaned inwardly at the possible implications.

“I ask the jury that they recognize that what took place was completely innocent – that there were no hostile or ambitious motivations in the events that took place on the first day of the new millennium.”

“Chancellor, you may call your first witness.” The judge’s voice seemed to boom throughout the courtroom.

“The Prosecution calls upon Nira Jan to give her testimony.” A teenage girl with light brown hair wearing a nondescript brown dress walked into the courtroom. Crono did not know her. He didn’t remember ever seeing her.

“Hello Nira,” the Chancellor said respectfully. “Would you be willing to answer a few questions for the court?” She nodded slowly. The hem of her dress was balled up into her fist. She slowly released it allowing the dress to fall back to its natural place.

“I’m sorry my dear, but I’m going to have to ask you to speak out loud for the purpose of our court reporter.”

“Yes, I will answer your questions.” She spoke softly, but it carried to the farthest corners of the courtroom.

“Thank you my dear.”

“Have you ever seen this man before?” And he gestured toward Crono.

“Yes.”

“And where did you see him?”

“I saw him at the fair.”

“And what was he doing when you saw him at the fair.”

“He was skulking around. Weaving his way through the crowds. When he saw the princess he changed course a little and ran right into her.”

“As she fell he had reached up for her pendant. He missed the actual pendant though. Just grabbed the chain. And the pendant went flying.” Crono resisted the urge to jump up out of his chair to object.

“And then what happened Nira?” The Chancellor urged gently.

“He went for the pendant. He didn’t even ask her if she was okay or anything. Just went for the pendant and then stared at it like he was kinda hungry or something.” Hungry indeed! This was all so subjective! Why didn’t his attorney object?

“And is that all you saw Nira? Did you ever see this man again?”

“Yes, I saw him again the next day.”

“Where did you see him?”

“He was in the village near some houses.”

“And what was he doing when you saw him?”

“He had grabbed a hold of the princess’s arm and was forcefully dragging her down the street. She screamed at him. She screamed that he was a kidnapper! I was scared so I ran back inside my house. I’m sorry that I didn’t do anything to help her. But I was so scared.” Small tears ran down her cheeks. She was crying! Crono felt sick.

“Nira, it’s okay,” The Chancellor patted her gently on the shoulder, “No one blames you. You did very well. You may go now.” The girl slowly got up from her seat and left the courtroom still sobbing.

“The Prosecution calls Guardsman Kev Deaton to give his testimony.” Crono turned to see who would enter. It was the guard that had blocked his was to help Lucca. Great! He could not possibly have anything good to say.

“Guardsman, do you recognize this man?” The Chancellor gestured towards Crono.

“Yes, Chancellor.”

“Where did you first see him?”

“At the north end of Leene Square. It was the first day of the Millennial Fair.”

“And what were you doing at the fair Guardsman.”

“I was on duty, Chancellor. I was guarding the Ashtear invention to make sure no civilians entered. I was told that the equipment could be dangerous until it was completely set up. I was also instructed to keep an eye out for the princess.”

“And when did you encounter this young man?”

“He came by after noon. He wanted entry to the Ashtear invention.”

“And did you give him entry?”

“Of course not!”

“And what happened when you denied him entry?”

“He got angry and attacked us. He tried to force his way past.”

“Did this behavior seem odd to you?”

“Well, yes. Many had tried to enter before the device was ready but he was the only one who was violent about obtaining entrance.”

“Thank you Guardsman Deaton. That will be all.” Crono shot daggers with his eyes as the man strolled out the courtroom. Crono tried to reign in his temper as the guardsman had been more or less honest.

The Chancellor called his next witness. It was a woman. She said she witnessed Crono taking the princess to a jewel shop. That Crono had tried to convince the princess to sell her pendant. Then an old man claimed he saw Crono steal his lunch. The condemning testimonies went on and on. He bullied small children. He shirked his chores. He was disrespectful and even abusive to his own mother. And it continued. Every bit of it trivial and completely false! Crono only half listened. His attorney never uttered a word. Crono was jarred out of his reverie when the Chancellor called his name.

“Hmm?” Crono jerked his head up.

“I said, the Prosecution calls Crono Triggara to give his testimony. Have you no respect for the court proceedings young man?”

“I have every respect for the court and its proceedings sir. What I cannot stand is people like you who do everything in your power to manipulate the system to see that innocent lives are destroyed for your own personal gain!”

“Order! There will be order in this court!” The judge pounded his gavel as he spoke. Crono did not regret his outburst. He was certain that it helped his case not at all, probably even hurt it a little, but it seemed to him that he had already lost and really had nothing to lose. “Mr. Triggara! You will answer the Chancellor’s questions. I will have no more outbursts from you.”

“Yes, your Honor.”

“Chancellor, you may proceed.”

“Thank you your Honor,” the Chancellor turned toward Crono, “Mr. Triggara, you are friends with Lucca Ashtear correct?”

“Yes,” Crono saw absolutely no reason to deny that fact.

“Have been for years isn’t that right?”

“Is there a point to this?” Crono asked not bothering to hide his annoyance.

“You will answer the question.” The judge’s voice boomed.

“Yes,” Crono could not keep his defiance out of his voice.

“You often helped her on her projects did you not?”

“Yes.”

“So you had access to many of her inventions before she unveiled them to the general populace?”

“Sometimes.”

“Did you have access to the telepod anytime before the Millennial Fair?”

“Once or twice maybe,” Crono glared at the Chancellor. He saw where this was going.

“Would it ever have been possible for you to modify the telepod to transport a person to a location other than the target location?”

“I have no idea how to…”

“Yes or no Crono,” the Chancellor interrupted sharply.

“Anything is possible Chancellor,” Crono responded. The Chancellor smirked.

“Crono, why were you so insistent about being let in to Miss Ashtear’s invention?”

“I had promised to help her. And I had overslept. I was really late.”

“And you were willing to fight a guard to get in?”

“It was better the guard than face Lucca’s wrath. She’s got quite a temper.” The spectators actually chuckled. Crono smiled in spite of the situation. The Chancellor obviously didn’t like this reaction…

“And it wasn’t because you wanted to modify the telepod?”

“I thought I was supposed to have done that weeks beforehand Chancellor,” Crono mockingly replied.

“Yes or no!” The Chancellor shrieked at him.

“No.”

“When did you meet the princess?”

“Uh, shortly after the guard wouldn’t let me in. I wasn’t watching where I was going and ran into her.”

“And when you saw her you didn’t recognize her?”

“No.”

“Crono, did you attend the formal coronation early last year? Where Nadia was crowned princess and heir to the throne.” Crono ground his teeth together. The entire town of Truce had been present at the event.

“Yes.”

“Did you see the princess there?”

“Yes, from a distance.”

“And you still claim you didn’t recognize her?”

“She looked a lot different in normal clothes covered in dust. And it’s been a year!” Crono shot back.

“Another witness says you went after her pendant? Is this correct?”

“She panicked…”

“Yes or no Crono,” the Chancellor interrupted yet again.

“Yes.”

“Tell me Crono, do you go to school?”

“Yes,” Crono responded confused by the sudden change in subject.

“The pendant is a royal heirloom Crono. You did take history did you not?”

“Yes, but I…”

“And you didn’t recognize the pendant?”

“No,” Crono insisted defiantly.

“Nor the princess?”

“No!”

“What happened when you used the telepod?”

“I was transported to the other pad.”

“And what happened when the princess used the telepod?”

“The telepod malfunctioned when in contact with her pendant and she disappeared.”

“So that’s how you did it. You programmed the telepod to react to only her pendant so it would work for you as expected but transport her elsewhere?”

“What? No!”

“So where did you send her?”

“I didn’t send her anywhere! She got dragged 400 years into the past!”

“Of course she did.” The Chancellor said as if he was humoring a child who was obviously lying. “I have no more questions your honor. The Prosecution rests.”

“Thank you Chancellor. Counselor?” The judge stated.

“Yes, your honor.” He bowed then turned to Crono. “Mr. Triggara, have you ever worked on any of Miss Ashtear’s inventions without her supervision?”

“No.”

“Do you understand how the telepod works?”

“Not at all.”

“Mr. Triggara, what was your grade in history this last term?”

“I got a D.” Crono admitted.

“Thank you I have no more questions. You may sit back down.” No more questions? That was it? That’s your defense? I’m too stupid to have been able to do this. “The defense calls Leela Nuri to give her testimony.” A little girl walked in. She was carrying a kitten. The kitten Crono had found for her. She stopped by Crono and pulled his ear down to her level.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered in his ear. “I will save you just like you saved Kassi.” Kassi must have been the kitten. Crono smiled at her. He wished ardently that he shared her faith.

“Thank you,” he whispered back. She then made her way to where she was supposed to stand.

“Hello Leela,” the lawyer said brightly, “How are you today?”

“I’m okay. So is Kassi,” she replied.

“And who is Kassi?”

“Kassi is my kitten. Isn’t she cute?”

“Adorable. And what happened to Kassi at the fair?”

“A loud obnoxious donkey cart went by and the donkey stepped on Kassi’s tail!” she cried indignantly. “And she ran away! I mean wouldn’t you if someone that much bigger than you stepped on you?”

“I believe I would. How did you get Kassi back if she ran away?”

“He brought her to me.” She pointed to Crono then said more loudly, “Thank you for being so kind.”

“And why would he do that?”

“Well, I was crying and he and a pretty lady came over and asked me what was wrong.”

“And was he ever mean to you?”

“Oh no… He just smiled and told me that it would be alright.”

“Thank you Leela for coming today and telling everyone about Kassi.”

“I can go now?”

“Yes, Leela.” As she left she waved back to Crono. He winked at her causing her to giggle before running the rest of the way out the courtroom clutching Kassi to her chest.

His defense attorney brought in more witnesses that placed Crono together with the princess all afternoon without ever raising a hand to her. Someone saw them fighting Gato. Another saw them at the shooting range. Another witnessed them together at the weapons’ stand. And none of the witnesses ever thought anything suspicious was taking place. They appeared to be a normal teenage couple enjoying themselves at the fair. There were no witnesses called who had seen Marle disappear. And there was no Taban or Lucca there to explain what had gone wrong with the telepod. No Lucca to corroborate that they had in fact gone back in time. It hurt just a little that she would not come to stand up for him. He had always been there for her.

“From the testimony given today we know that Crono Triggara deliberately tried to get near the princess. He showed a violent temperament to the guardsmen and is known to be untrustworthy by his peers in general. He even tried to sell off the princess’ pendant! He had ample opportunity to modify the telepod being best friends with its inventor. Crono would have you believe that he didn’t recognize the princess! How could he not? Crono would have you believe that they traveled back in time! A preposterous notion if I ever heard one. And then the question at the end of the day is if the princess was indeed enjoying the company of this less than trustworthy teenager then why would she scream and call him a kidnapper? I ask the jury that you see through this plot and remove this danger to Princess Nadia from this world.”

Then another thought occurred to him. The Chancellor had this whole thing rigged for Crono to lose. He could have threatened Lucca, or worse, locked her up or done away with her completely. Given the events unfolding around him Crono found this explanation much more plausible and he started to get worried.

“This young man has done nothing wrong. He is a civic minded and responsible young adult who accidentally ran into a pretty girl. He agreed to show her around to make up for running her over. He is abysmal in his studies and while this is not an admirable trait it would explain why he wouldn’t recognize the princess or her symbol of office. And he possesses no mechanical expertise whatsoever so it would have been impossible for him to modify the telepod to such technical specifications. This young man is completely innocent of any evil intentions or wrong doings. He deserves a medal for rescuing a kitten! He does not deserve to be executed for crimes that never took place.”

“I thank you both, Chancellor Tonaal and Councilor Pierre for your presence. Have you, the jury, reached a verdict?” the judge demanded pulling Crono back to the present. What? It was time for the verdict already?

“Yes we do your Honor,” the nobleman replied. “We find the defendant guilty of all counts.”

“Crono Triggara you have been found guilty by the Lords of Guardia and are hereby sentenced to be executed three days hence by method of the guillotine,” the judge pronounced. “Guards, take him back into custody.” The court doors swung open suddenly. Marle was struggling to get past the two guards. She kneed one in the crotch and was able to deliver a beautiful right cross to the other with her now free arm. Crono was impressed.

“Wait just a damn minute!” Marle protested loudly.

“Princess Nadia! This behavior is extremely unbecoming of a princess!”

“And perjury is extremely unbecoming of a Chancellor!” she countered and then turned to address the court. “I demand that this prisoner be released. He has committed no crime against me or against this kingdom. By the order of the crown this man is to be given a complete pardon and allowed to return home to his family.”

“Princess Nadia you hold no authority in this court room!” The Chancellor shrieked. “A pardon can only be granted by the King and with approval of his private council, which I assure you he does not have.”

“Nadia!” Everyone turned to see the King. Crono hadn’t even noticed his arrival. “This is highly inappropriate. Your honor, Chancellor, I apologize for this intrusion. It will not be happening again. Come Nadia.”

“But Father!” Marle protested.

“Silence! Guards carry out the court’s orders!” The guards hauled him violently to his feet and began towards the door.

“Crono!” Marle screamed after him. “I’m so sorry! So sorry…” her apologies deteriorated into hysterical crying. He was dragged out of the courtroom. He wanted to say something to her. Anything just so that she knew he did not blame her, but his mind and tongue failed him. He did not know what to say. As he was marched towards the dungeon Marle’s cries slowly faded away in the distance.

Chapter Text

The guards threw Crono violently back into his cell. The metal bars quickly fell with a resounding thud. There was a finality to the sound that made Crono shudder. Execution. He was going to be executed. He thought he should be afraid or angry, but he only felt numb. Nothing mattered anymore. His life was over. He practically collapsed onto the stone floor letting the coldness of the stone permeate throughout his body.

He could imagine his mother chastising him for such carelessness. He would get a cold. He smiled despite himself. He wished that he could apologize to her. She had been lonely ever since his father had died though for his sake she would never admit it. But he knew. His death would devastate her and she wouldn’t really even understand why he died. He wished he could tell her what really happened. Tell her that her son was not a criminal. He supposed Lucca would fill her in but it was just not the same. He did not want to leave her, but the world did not seem to want to give him a choice.

Lucca would miss him most. She didn’t have very many friends being so involved in her research. He had been the only one who had never made fun of her in school when they were little. He actually had received a bloody nose once for sticking up her. Scant thanks he got for it too. The eight year old Lucca had slapped him hard, declared that she was smarter than he could ever hope to be, and she did not need him before stalking off. His very amused mother had explained to him when he came home absolutely confused that the girl didn’t want a protector - she just wanted a friend. And Lucca had become more than his best friend and he couldn’t imagine life without her and all her idiosyncrasies. What would her life be like without him?

Then there was Marle. He barely knew her and yet he was grateful that he had had a chance to meet her. Crono loved how she took childlike delight in the world around her. Being a princess she could have almost anything she wanted and all she desired was to be accepted as who she really was as a person and not as a princess. He knew that he liked her and allowed himself to wonder what they might have been had they had the opportunity to actually get to know each other. He would probably never see her again.

Faced with such a depressing thought Crono forced himself to think about something else. He quickly found himself going through sword practice routines in his head. His instructor, Chiva, had told him that if he could visualize himself making the moves that they would become much easier to perform in actuality. Crono was to spend twenty minutes each day just imagining his body doing exercises that would train his reflexes.

Crono imagined himself fighting the Chancellor, but the image was too difficult to maintain. It was just too hard too picture a short squat seventy year old man holding his own in a swordfight and while beating the man within an inch of his life over and over without even having to try might have made Crono feel better it would hardly be productive and did not suit his purposes. Crono easily shifted the image to the all too familiar Chiva and soon the visualization became more than an exercise – it became a memory.

* * *

Crono could feel the sweat pouring down his face. He held his wooden katana at the ready waiting for his opponent to make his next advance. Master Chiva had always gone easy on him in the past. But something was different about today. Crono wondered if he was being tested. Suddenly Master Chiva leapt forward and struck the flat of his blade against Crono’s thigh. Crono winced away. That would definitely become a nice purple bruise.

“Get your head out of the clouds boy! The heavens contain no answers for the battlefield!” He wasn’t even winded, Crono noted disgustingly.

He decided it was time to get a little more aggressive. Crono shifted his grip on his sword just slightly and charged. His teacher feinted to the right but Crono adjusted and swung hard. The blades met violently. Pain lanced up Crono’s arms. Amazingly, Crono still had hold of his blade. His armed throbbed as he struggled to hold the weapon in place.

Suddenly the resistance was gone. Crono stumbled forward. His katana clattered to the ground replaced by a sharp pain in his hand. He had been disarmed. Master Chiva had moved so fast.

Crono reached down to retrieve the wooden blade and quickly assumed a ready stance. When Master Chiva made no advances Crono leapt forward swinging his katana in a high arc. Master Chiva danced away easily. Crono struck again and again. Every blow was parried seemingly effortlessly. Anger seethed through him. What was the point of this! To knock Crono down a peg or two because he had been improving so quickly? Crono knew he couldn’t win so what was the point? His attacks became half-hearted. He was now just going through the motions. There was no point in exhausting himself over this. He could not win.

“You’re acting like you’ve already lost! It ain’t over till you’re dead boy! If you give up you’re already dead.”

* * *

The words resounded through Crono’s head again and again. After Master Chiva had sufficiently worn him out leaving a few bruises to serve as reminders he explained to Crono that even if a situation was seemingly impossible to survive there were perspectives you couldn’t see. A solution could exist. But if he gave up he’d never find it. And even if there was no solution it’s more honorable to go down fighting with everything you had. You can’t let your enemy have an easy victory after all. Crono was letting the Chancellor have his easy victory. He needed to change that.

“It ain’t over till you’re dead boy,” Crono muttered to himself as he leapt to his feet and began pacing back and forth. He needed to get out of this cell! He was certain that he stood a chance if he could accomplish just that task. He glanced around the room, but there wasn’t a whole lot to work with. Unless he could do something with those chains… He picked them up in his hands, they were nice and heavy, but no they were only two feet long or so and bolted to the wall. He resumed his pacing.

“Will you cut that out?” One of the guards growled. Crono hadn’t really heard too lost in his own problems. Maybe there would be a loose stone in the wall. That would be maybe a little too convenient but it was worth checking.

“Will you quit pacing around? You’re driving me nuts!” Crono jerked in surprise at the anger and irritation in the guard’s voice. Then an idea occurred to him. Could it really be that easy?

“Why don’t you make me!” Crono taunted. The guard did not respond. “Or are you too afraid of a poor weaponless prisoner?” The guard’s face darkened.

“Open it up,” he ordered the other guard without taking his glare off Crono.

“But…”

“I said open it up! Unlock the door!”

“Uh, Yes sir!” and he scrambled to comply. The grate door rose up with a loud bang. And the guard slowly heaved forward his short-sword out threateningly. Crono stepped backwards until he knew the far wall was only a foot or so away. The guard clanked forward and swung the hilt of his blade into Crono’s jaw. It was enough to make his head ring a little, but nothing Crono hadn’t lived through before. He made himself fall to the ground anyway. The guard laughed harshly.

“You ain’t so smug now are ya?” The guard gloated before turning his back to Crono to leave. Crono sprang up and rammed the guard into the wall sending his sword clattering to the floor. Crono violently tore off the guard’s helmet and punched the now exposed face.

“Hey!” the other guard objected, “What do you think you’re doing?” Crono ignored him and dealt another two blows to the guard in front of him. The man was already unconscious, but Crono didn’t want him waking up any time soon. Knowing the other guard’s senses would return Crono grabbed the discarded short-sword and turned to engage him.

“Get back!” The guard yelled waving his trembling sword toward Crono with wild and uncontrolled swings. Crono did step back out of the reach of the sword and soon found his back to the wall. His adversary’s triumphant grin peaked through his helmet. He brought his sword arcing towards Crono. At the last moment Crono dived under the blade and tackled the guard’s midsection sending both fighters to the ground.

Crono, unencumbered by heavy armor, rolled quickly to his feet and struck the helmet of the guard with a resounding ring. The guard remained on his back grunting in pain. Crono quickly dispatched another blow to quiet him. He sincerely hoped that both guards would be all right. He did not need to add a legitimate charge to the list of his “crimes”.

With sword in hand Crono left the cell and locked the guards inside before making his way to the left towards a pair of giant wooden double doors that was the only obvious exit. The doors creaked open and Crono turned quickly to the stairwell he remembered descending on his way to his cell and ran right into a guard. For a moment both froze in shock. Unfortunately for Crono, the guard was the first to recover.

“Sound the alarm! The prisoner’s escaped!” Crono could hear the loud movements of the soldiers above pouring down the stairwell and the echo of the order before bells began to ring. Crono soundly cursed his stupidity. He delivered a solid kick to the man’s chest-plate sending him careening into the first two soldiers to respond to the alarm. Crono instantly turned and ran knowing that his pursuers would be delayed only momentarily. He ran the in the only direction he could – back the way he had come.

Crono didn’t slow down at all for the heavy doors. He just barreled his way through and shoved it closed once on the other side. Thinking quickly he ran his sword through the adjacent door handles temporarily barring the soldiers way. Knowing that his imposed obstacle would not last long he quickly turned down the seemingly endless corridor of cells. He knew it didn’t go anywhere. That he had come to a dead end. So where to hide?

The soldiers banged up against the doors trying to force them open. The metal bars on one of the seemingly indistinguishable cells seemed to be stuck about halfway down. Crono dove onto the ground and rolled under the metal bars into the half open cell. Little light made it into the cells themselves and so Crono hid himself in the dark corner halfway under and behind the prisoner’s cot. He heard the sword clatter to the floor and the doors were instantly heaved open.

“You two! Stay here and guard the door. There is no other escape. He cannot have gotten far. The rest of you follow me!” The soldiers clanked loudly down the corridor towards him. They had torches! Crono drew himself into a ball and ducked further under the cot as the soldiers ran past. The light receded and the echoing clanks grew more distant though not nearly distant enough.

Crono tried not to panic, but he knew it was only a matter of time before they found him and he could not take them all on, especially unarmed as he once again found himself. Some escape! He pulled himself out from under the cot and found himself staring at the dilapidated ceiling above him. Hope stirred once again. The roof in the corner of the cell had completely rotted through! If he could move the cot against the far wall he’d be able to jump up to the next floor he was certain.

“Sir! He is not here!” the guard called from the far end of the hall.

“He must be! Search every one of those cells if you have to. He is here!”

And he’d have to be fast about it too. And quiet. He jumped silently to his feet. The cot was made of solid iron. It would be impossible to lift. He nudged it experimentally. He only needed to move the thing three feet. A high-pitched scraping sound emitted, but it was barely audible to even Crono. As long as he moved it slowly it should work.

He nudged it inch by inch. The sound of gates slamming open and then closed again and the soldiers reporting their lack of success drifted from the far end of the hallway, only the far end was getting closer. Finally the cot was in place. Not wasting any time Crono, with as much of a running start as he could gain in the small cell, leapt from the prison cot to the hole in the ceiling and the potential freedom it represented.

He caught the edge of the floor and pulled himself to his chin and then to his chest. The rotting wood mixed with stone and mortar was crumbling. It would not hold his weight for much longer. He tried to shift himself to a more stable looking spot on the floor but only managed to loose his grip nearly falling back down. Desperately he grabbed for his original support, which was disintegrating beneath him every second he held it. Drawing strength he did not know he had, Crono slowly pushed himself the rest of the way up and collapsed onto the relatively stable portion of the floor gasping for breath.

Crono did not give himself more than a five second breather – he didn’t have time for anything more. He sat up to face metal bars barring his way. Great… he had just traded one dead end for another. The gods were just not with him today. Who needed gods anyway? He turned to look around and immediately whispered an apology for his previous thoughts. The slit window present in all the other cells he had seen was gone. In its place was a gaping hole in the wall.

Crono approached the edge and peered over and immediately took a step back. It was not a short drop. The tops of the trees of the surrounding forest seemed incredibly small indeed. Weren’t dungeons supposed to be deep underground? Why did he seem to be miles in the sky? The giant stone slabs that made up the wall stuck a scant eight inches out past the layer above at the floor level. It was enough just barely. Crono would rather have been presented with almost any other option – fight his way through flaming dragons or magic wielding mystics – scaling the castle wall did not seem like a good idea in any situation, but what choice did he have? If he didn’t escape he was as good as dead anyway.

Trying not to think about the insanity of what he was attempting Crono inched his way out onto the ledge wind instantly buffeting him from all sides. He pushed himself out from the cell about four feet before on what seemed to be obvious handholds in the form of staggered stones small enough to grip every foot up or so. It seemed awfully convenient for them to be here. But then maybe the original builders needed a way to move up and down the side of the tower? They probably had safety harnesses or something. Going down was not an option unless he intended to jump. The wall was completely smooth below him. So Crono began to climb.

It was difficult. The handholds were worn smooth and were hard to grip. And more than a few of them were covered in moss making them even more slippery. So he moved slowly always making sure that he had a good strong grasp on the stone before transferring any weight. Despite muscles screaming in protest of the harsh task he set them he made it to the next ledge above without incident. He pushed himself as flat as possible against the mossy wall away from the wind, edging himself towards the next set of handholds. Once there he began climbing again.

Crono climbed past two more ledges before it occurred to him to wonder if this path would lead anywhere. His arms and back were getting really tired. His hands or more specifically his knuckles were covered in scrapes from the unforgiving rock. And the wind was penetrating through his clothes counteracting whatever warmth the sun might have provided. Crono attempted to ignore the biting cold, but with little success. He kept going with the slim hope that his destination was closer than his starting point. He climbed for what felt like hours.

He reached yet another ledge. Was it the fifth? Or maybe the sixth. It didn’t matter. Crono’s only purpose was to climb, which was perhaps why when he pulled his head up over the ledge he was bewildered for just an instant by the small hole in the wall that lead to another cell. Except this cell had no iron bars blocking his exit. Crono resumed his climbing with renewed fervor when an exceptionally strong gust of wind threw Crono sideways and he crashed painfully into the castle wall completely losing his footing. He was now dangling from the ledge barely managing to maintain his grip.

Crono wanted to laugh at the irony. He had just successfully scaled the castle wall only to lose his balance when he had reached his goal. He cast such thoughts aside as his boots struggled to regain their purchase on the stones. His boot caught on something and he was able to push himself back up and get a more firm holding on the ledge. Once again he slowly pulled himself up muscles trembling, threatening to give out. But he could not let them, not with the goal so within reach. And it was with much grunting effort that Crono managed to pull himself into the cell.

Despite the biting cold Crono was drenched in sweat. He rubbed his tortured arms as he cautiously poked his head out of the cell. The hallway filled with cells was identical to the one he had just left except no torches occupied the brackets that were evenly spaced down the dark corridor and to all appearances no guards were present.

Crono made a quick exit of the corridor. He found himself in another lacking the prisoner cells and headed toward what must be the center of the compound. Torches were posted at even intervals but Crono found the empty corridor nerve wracking and kept jumping at shadows caused by the flickering flames. He rounded a corner and was startled to find a guard posted standing against the wall luckily facing the other way. Crono jumped back instinctively before the guard could see him, but he mis-stepped and stumbled. Crono heard the distinct sound of a sword being drawn and held his breadth.

“Who’s there?” the guard called.

“Something wrong Tari?” someone from farther down the hall shouted just a rat scurried across the intersection. The sword was immediately sheathed.

“No, just a rat!” Crono released the breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

There were definitely at least two guards within line of site and Crono needed to get rid of them both before either could raise the alarm, unarmed as he was. It was time to take a page out of Lucca’s book. He grabbed the nearest torch and doused the flame as the flickering would give him away.

Peeking around the corner Crono waited until he was sure the guard was again looking the other way and then he charged and dealt a clean blow to the back of the guard’s head. Crono caught the guard’s body as he began to fall to minimize noise. He relieved the unconscious guard of his sword then he pelted past towards the second guard who turned just in time to see the sword hilt greet him in the face before he too fell into induced sleep.

The second guard had been standing in front of a door, but in between the two had been another corridor and if Crono’s sense of direction was at all in tact he was fairly sure that was the way he wanted to go and so he set off. Before he had taken two steps he could hear the echoing footsteps of approaching guards. They paused.

“Any activity Sergeant?” they were right around the corner.

“No sir. Just a couple of rats.”

“Well, don’t let your guard down. We’ve got an escaped convict on the loose.”

“Of course not sir,” and the guard were once again marching towards him. Crono quickly turned back to the door and pushed it open silently and slipped in hoping there’d be a place to hide.

Crono seemed to have found the execution chamber. There were chains and restraints, body fitting coffins with nails pointing towards the inside. They still had rusted blood on them. There were a few guillotines and Crono had to mentally shake himself. He wasn’t being executed yet, never would be if he had anything to say about it, but he needed to hide.

“Please… help me,” it sounded like a kid. Crono moved toward the voice and discovered that one of the guillotines was occupied by a brown sandy haired youth. Crono didn’t even think, just immediately pulled his head free and began untying him.

“Thanks. My name is Fritz. I was arrested with a band of thieves. But I was innocent,” the youth rambled. “They brought me here hours ago, but they all left when the alarm sounded. They were going to execute me! Without a trial!” Crono gestured for him to be quiet. Last thing he needed was a hysterical kid on his hands. Just then the alarm sounded again. No doubt the patrol had discovered the two soldiers collapsed.

“Quick! Hide!” Crono put action to his words shoving the boy under one of the death contraptions that was relatively well concealed from the entrance. Crono ran across the room looking for another likely hiding spot, but there didn’t seem to be any.

“Imagine finding you here convict! Eager for your execution?” the soldier was the biggest man Crono had ever seen. He stood a head and a half taller than Crono with shoulders twice as broad. He was draped in a deep purple cloak and carried a large mace. The man approached Crono slowly but surely. Crono soon found himself cornered and the man swung the mace down hard. Crono barely managed to roll out of the way. He threw some loose newly created debris at the giant. The monster of a person fell back onto some other contraption and Crono took off for the entrance.

“They don’t pay me enough for this,” the man growled as he rose back to his feet.

Crono was already gone, but he had been paying too much attention to the threat behind him and ran right into the patrol in the hallway. He was disarmed and forced down to the ground hands behind his back before he realized what had happened.

“Mr Triggara, I presume? I am deeply sorry that I must bring your escapade to an end. You see the Chancellor himself has charged my team and I with your recapture and supervision until such time that you are to be executed.”

Crono cursed his luck. Back to square one.

Chapter Text

“Open the gate!” her father shouted to the soldier stationed in the guardhouse. Lucca shifted the weight she was holding to her other hand. The box that she and five other of her father’s hirelings, as she liked to call them, were awkwardly trying to keep from crashing to the ground was a standard shipping crate. Though what was in the crate was not standard at all. It was another invention, one that she doubted the palace personnel would appreciate very much at all. She grinned in spite of herself.

“I’m sorry Master Ashtear, but your delivery is not on my schedule. I cannot let you pass.” Her father made deliveries to the castle at least once a month, mostly to the military division who wanted to see if they could apply his new technology to the battlefield. Lucca had always thought this notion ridiculous, as Guardia hadn’t been at war in almost 400 years! But because of that he was often asked to make deliveries at the west gate, which led directly to the barracks and the military headquarters, which had incidentally been placed adjacent to the dungeon.

“Bureaucracy not running efficiently today?” Taban amiably mocked. “Look, normally I could come back any day, but this stuff is on special order from Captain…” he glanced down at the document in his hand, “Jivan Anderosa. And it’s highly volatile. Moving it around is not safe. If it gets jounced around at all it could explode. That’s why it’s being carried by my workers and not brought in on a cart. So if it’s all the same to you, would you open the gate so we can put this stuff where it’s supposed to go and then get as far away from it as possible.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I cannot let you through.” He declared smoothly. Lucca was starting to panic. What if they couldn’t get in? Crono would… She could never let herself finish that thought. It was just not conceivable. Forcibly pulling her thoughts away from the consequences of failure Lucca tried to concentrate on how much her arms hurt and back ached. This damn thing was heavy!

“I have the signed documentation right here,” Taban started to get angry. “It says it must be delivered by today’s date!” stabbing his finger at the correct line. “I am not going to take responsibility for this not being where it is supposed to be guardsmen!” Taban was shouting now a mere six inches away from the guardsman’s face. Lucca would have laughed had the circumstances… well, had not been so dire. She had been the recipient of her father’s bellow on occasion. It was not a pleasant experience.

“Sir… sir, I’m sorry, but I do not have the authority to override the schedule.”

“I usually consider myself a reasonable man, but I am not going to further risk my crew by taking this thing back home and then bringing it back here. If you do not have the authority, then find someone who does!”

“Uh…y-yes sir.” And the guard vanished, as did Taban’s angry scowl.

“You boys can go ahead and put that down,” they, including Lucca, were only too eager to comply. “How’re you holding up?” he asked more softly. His question was directed at her.

“Perfectly fine,” she lied. “After making it through an evil mystic’s lair, the prison should be a cakewalk!” she continued with confidence she did not feel.

“Just be careful…I don’t think I’d be able to face your mother if …” he was forced to cut himself off as the guard with a few friends tagging along returned.

“Master Ashtear, what can I do for you?” the new soldier asked. It was Captain Anderosa himself. But he and Taban were old friends. Taban explained the situation.

“Open it up guardsman!”

“But sir!” Captain Anderosa turned to the guard with raised eyebrow, “Uh… Y-yes sir,” the guard fumbled quickly at the controls and the gates were opened.

“This way Master Ashtear and I will show you where I want the supplies,” Captain Anderosa gestured for Taban and his crew to follow him. Once inside the palace the captain pulled back instep with Taban.

“So Taban… Do I want to know what’s going on?” He asked curiously.

“Probably not.” Taban’s grinned.

“I’m not going to lose my job over this am I?” he asked only half in jest.

“You shouldn’t,” Taban responded seriously, “I have the proper documentations and as long as you claim you did order the stuff you should be okay. You couldn’t know that I would have a half-trained team that would ah… make mistakes.”

“Ah, so where are we going?” Jivan asked. Taban told him. “Just follow me.” And the captain proceeded to lead them through the passageways. They made a turn and found themselves in an extremely crowded corridor where Captain Anderosa began ordering soldiers about and demanding that maids and servants get out of the way. Lucca wished she could ask him to slow down. This box was extremely heavy and awkward. They could not afford to drop it too soon.

They rounded another corner and Lucca found herself once again in familiar territory. She was extremely grateful to realize they were only a few turns away from their destination. They passed servants and soldiers. She desperately hoped the passer-byes would catch on to the danger they were in. One passageway left. But Crono was worth the risk even if they did not. She had to try. And here they were.

She signaled to the smallest hireling. His name was Timminy and he had the advantage of looking younger than he actually was. He made himself stumble causing him to drop his side of the burden. The other hirelings were too startled to recover and the crate fell to the ground with a resounding thud. Taban whirled around to face his crew, a look of horror on his face. For a second no one moved. Then all six of them ran in opposite directions.

“Everyone out of this hallway! Now!” Taban bellowed as he himself took off down the corridor. Captain Anderosa immediately taking the hint and echoed the orders to stunned maids and servants that were slow to react. Lucca ran to the nearest doorway flanked by two guards and dove in between them before they had a chance to react and rolled into a ball. She then slipped her hand into her pocket, pushed the button on her remote device, and covered her ears. The box exploded immediately.

“Timminy!” Taban was already at the disaster making a scene.

“S-sir!” The boy sniveled. Lucca wanted to laugh. The boy pulled this crap all the time trying to play the innocent after pulling some less than innocent pranks on his buddies. He was good though she had to admit. She could almost believe he was sincere. Almost. But the guards were paying far more attention to the boy being screamed at and the ruined corridor than to Lucca, which of course, was the idea.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Taban shouted.

The guards were walking toward the altercation in the hallway, Lucca forgotten. Knowing she would not get a better opportunity Lucca silently stood and made her way up the forbidding stairwell that would lead her to the dungeon. She gripped her new pistol tightly. She had thirty-eight bullets. She hoped that it would be enough.

* * *

Marle’s body wracked with silent sobs. Her body was too tired to continue crying, but her throat constricted and what felt like heavy rocks occupied her stomach. Crono was going to die. She had gone to the Chancellor and begged for mercy. He had been unmoved by her tears. She screamed and railed at her father. How could he let this injustice be done? Did he hate her so much? They wouldn’t even let her say good-bye. She pounded her fists into the red silk pillows, but it was to no avail.

“Your highness, you’re going to make yourself sick,” the handmaiden said softly. Marle glared up at the girl.

“What are you doing in here?” she shrieked. She threw a pillow at the offending maid. When that had little effect she picked up her hairbrush, a book, and an empty glass and chucked those as well. The girl nimbly dodged the projectiles.

“Your highness, please!”

“Get out! I didn’t give you permission to be here!” Marle leapt off the bed brandishing another book, chased the maid out, and slammed the door shut. Her tantrum did not end there as she began throwing priceless keepsakes to the walls and furniture to the floors. Landscape tapestries became shreds. Mirrors turned to shards. Dresses were torn to rags. Her despair was gone. In its place was white-hot anger. She was done with this. Her father had betrayed her for the last time. Marle had no idea where to go or what to do. She only knew with certainty that she could not stay here for one second longer.

She searched through her remaining wardrobe looking for something suitably flamboyant. If she was dressed up formally few people would challenge her. She slipped into the dress and began lacing up the ribbons that ran down the side with practiced ease. She had never really enjoyed having servants bathe and dress her so she had learned to do it herself. And it didn’t hurt that she had suggested a few alterations to the seamstress to make the fastenings within reach.

Once dressed, she left her room and strode quickly past the shocked servants and ever-stoic guards, silken folds fluttering in her wake.

“Your highness?” one of the servants belatedly called after her, but Marle ignored her having already reached the spiral staircase.

The echoes of her pounding footfalls reverberated around her. The descent did not take long and Marle was soon running through corridors oblivious to the odd stares and muttered curses that echoed her passage. As she neared her destination she forced herself to slow to a more stately pace.

She turned the corner and found to her relief that the passageway was deserted. It usually was because it was the long way around to any destination. But for that very reason it was sometimes occupied by servants looking for more privacy than available to them in the servants’ quarters. Or even young courtiers who were there more for the thrill. She had walked into embarrassingly intimate scenes more than once. She was just glad that it was one less complication she had to deal with today.

The hallway was lined with fully armored statues on either side spaced about ten feet apart. Marle moved silently to the third one on the left. She drew his dagger. Now this was the only statue that had a dagger that was more than just a hilt. It would be imprudent to have weapons just lying around in the hallways so any random stranger could draw it. This dagger wasn’t really a dagger anyway. It had a jagged uneven edge that just happened to fit perfectly between two bricks another twenty feet down the hall.

She glanced both ways down the hallway again to make sure it remained empty before slipping the dagger into the keyhole that resembled a crack in the wall. There was an audible click and then the whole section of the wall slid back and then slid apart to reveal an unlit stairwell. She ran down the steps, the walls already began closing behind her.

She found herself within the labyrinth of passageways that lay underneath the palace. The passageways lead to almost anywhere in the palace and a few places outside. Only one other than herself knew of the existence of these secret passageways and Marle was fairly certain that her father was unaware of her lack of ignorance or he would have had guards posted in the relevant hallways to keep her from leaving. It was her mother that had revealed the information to her through a letter delivered to her years after the late queen’s death on Marle’s thirteenth birthday.

Marle had spent the last two days down here looking for a way into the prison but it seemed to be the one place the monarch had no way to get to. She supposed it was because the prison was relatively new and had not been present when the original castle had been built. But that knowledge had not kept her from trying. She could not let Crono die. And yet she had failed. She was unable to prevent his death. Tears flowed freely down her face. She wiped them away angrily and forced her mind to the task at hand.

She was going to the armory. It was a path she was intimately familiar as she used it time and again to steal her crossbow, which is exactly what she was doing now. Once she arrived she paused a moment to be certain the place was deserted. It usually was, but one could never be too careful. After a moment of silence she pushed her dagger-key into the seam of the two wall panels in front of her. Seconds later she was making her way through rows and rows of swords, lances, armor, and shields. She barely noticed them as she strode for her own corner where the long bows and crossbows were stored.

Suddenly she whirled around, a silver hilt catching her attention. She traced the intricate pattern of leaves and vines. Tears sprang to her eyes once again as she remembered how bright Crono’s eyes were when he had acquired it – like a child in a candy store. He had used this blade really only once and that had been to save her. She picked up the weapon and tied the sheath to her waist. She would take it with her. She had no idea what to do with the thing. She only knew she could not leave it here for any common soldier. It was too special for that. It had been made just for Crono. Another would not wield it.

“How many do you need?” A voice called back towards the entryway. Marle quickly ducked behind the row of swords and prayed the man would not need to come too close.

“Uh, I don’t know. Six? Maybe seven.”

“Seven? You headed into mystic territory?” The man laughed.

Unfortunately, the gods did not seem to be with her. The soldier was heading straight for her. She crawled away backwards making sure she could see him at all times. She could not move from her cover but the man was dangerously close - just about two feet away. He leaned forward inspecting something she could not see. Marle held her breath.

“What’s this?” one guard asked. Marle’s eyes bulged in panic, but she couldn’t bring herself to move.

“What’s what?” the other man responded.

“Oh, there’s just this long blade in here with all the daggers. And it shouldn’t be. Here, this ought to be enough to level a couple of buildings.” The man handed him several cases. They were explosives she realized. What did they need those for?
After the exchange the two left the armory. After their footsteps receded she leapt to her feet not willing to waste anymore time. It did not take her long to retrieve the polished wooden crossbow that she called her own before she dashed back to her hidden door and to the labyrinths beneath. She had one more stop to make and then she was leaving. And she was not going to come back. Ever.

* * *

“Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t…” Lucca repeated the litany over and over. She was shuffling through papers that belonged to one unconscious prison administrator who was currently residing under his own desk. She needed to hurry. But she didn’t know where she needed to go! How could she save Crono if she didn’t know where he was? The prison was too big to wander aimlessly – he would be executed before she found him. And yet all she could find were documents about this damn dragon tank! Who cared if it could demolish castle walls or was impervious to fire?! She had bigger problems. Ah! Here was another file. She read a few lines and tossed it aside. Guards requesting leave. Not useful!

She scattered more papers to the floor. She angrily wiped the tears away from her face. She couldn’t give up. The information had to be here somewhere. She opened another drawer and found another stack of files. She opened them hastily. Ah ha! Scheduled executions!

“Sasha Boeing. Aleks Sandley. Vada Maharaji…” she continued to read the names out loud. There were so many! And there was no organization that Lucca could see anyway. She just continued to read through names. The dates! They were organized by date! She skipped a few as these had all occurred within the last few days. “Fritz Liedermark. No, that’s not it. Here it is! Crono Triggara!” Prison Block B… Execution Room six. At one o’clock. Crap!

Lucca tossed the files back on the desk and took off running. She did not bother trying to be quiet – there was no time. She flew through the dimly lit corridors only aware of how many left hand turns she had passed. She took the fourth one. There was a guard at the end of the hall. She did not hesitate. She pulled out her gun and shot him. The explosion threw him into the wall and he crumpled to the floor. She grinned in spite of herself. The little thing packed a punch. She kept running refusing to acknowledge the stitch in her side. Maybe she needed to exercise more. Lucca! Focus on the task at hand! She berated herself. Lucca finally arrived at her destination, took out the one guard in her way with another loud explosion and rushed in.

Two more guards and an administrator gaped at her sudden intrusion. Lucca barely noticed them focused so intently on her friend with his head held firmly in place in the guillotine with his hands tied behind his back. It was an uncomfortable way to die.

“Crono!”

“Who the hell are you?” the administrator demanded. For some reason the question only angered Lucca.

“Get outta my way!” She screamed as she simultaneously released another shot and then two more before the guards regained their wits. She then straightened her glasses trying to regain her composure. She had succeeded in this much at least. Crono had not been executed. He was here right in front of her alive and well. She smiled in relief.

“Uh, Lucca? These restraints are not the most comfortable things ever,” Crono called.

“Oh right, sorry,” she ran next to him and opened the wooden block so he could at least sit up. Then she pulled a pocket knife from her vest and sawed through the ropes restraining his wrists.

“Why am I always having to save your ass anyway?” she asked him feeling suddenly giddy.

Crono merely shrugged more concerned with massaging his wrists. “Cutting it a bit close there though, don’t you think?”

“Yes well, there was a lot of paperwork to go through. First the chancellor has this new pet project, the dragon tank can blow up anything including castle walls, a bunch of guards are tired of working, and you would not believe how many people are scheduled to be executed in this week alone!” Crono couldn’t help but grin at Lucca’s tirade. He went to the closest guard and took his sword and sheath.

“Crono! His hand… it’s yellow,” Lucca pointed to the guard. Crono removed the man’s helmet. He wasn’t human.

“He’s a mystic! What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. But perhaps there’s a reason there were so many people scheduled for execution lately. We gotta get out of here.”

“You won’t hear me arguing. Lead the way.”

“Why am I leading? You know the way,” but Crono exited first anyway, Lucca close behind him.

On the way back to the administrator’s office Lucca avoided looking directly at the fallen guards. She sincerely hoped they were mystic infiltrators and not normal humans just doing their job.

“They aren’t dead. You can see them breathing. You don’t have to look so guilty,” Crono chided her. It was unsettling how he sometimes seemed to hear her thoughts.

“Just the same,” she responded absently. The rest of the way they remained silent. Once back in the castle it would be difficult to get away without notice. It did not take long to get back to the administrator’s office as all the guards had already been taken care of. Now, time for the hard part.

“Lucca wait. If there’s mystics in the castle we might be able to find evidence of it here,” he gestured to the administrator’s desk.

“Crono, I’ve been through all that. There’s nothing there. We need to get out of here before the guard changes,” Lucca said. He didn’t argue.

“Is there a way out without going through the main part of the palace?”

“No, I don’t think so. There’s just the two guards though. Crono, surely you can get rid of them.”

“You have entirely too much faith in me. Come on. I have an idea.” And he ran back the way they had come. Quickly he found what he wanted: an unconscious guard. He started pulling off its armor.

“Here,” he handed the armor and helmet to Lucca. “Put this on.”

“It reeks,” she said wincing, but she put the armor on. It was a little too large, but she doubted anyone would notice if they didn’t look to closely.

“Ready?” Lucca looked up to see Crono in another suit. His looked like it fit him better. It wasn’t fair really. He was probably also more accustomed to carrying this much weight. Lucca! She screamed inwardly at herself. She simply nodded in response.

And then they just walked out. It was anticlimactic really. Just nodded at the stationed guards as they walked passed and then they were in the palace. Lucca let herself sigh in relief.

Before long they were outside the actual palace if not its grounds. Soldiers were training in the open field before them. Crono and Lucca just marched along the edge of the group. Guards stood in patrol points on the castle wall above while messenger boys ran past with seemingly urgent errands. Lucca wanted to go faster, much faster, but that would give them away. Instead they walked on. No one challenged them. Amazingly.

They passed the group and turned a corner around a wall to a more deserted area. This looked like storage areas. Large sheds and even larger warehouses were filled with crates exactly like the one Lucca with the help of her father’s team had brought in earlier. All the doors were open. Because so many people would be coming and going with large shipments the doors stayed open during the day. The next few warehouses were filled with machinery and equipment. They were almost free.

“Lucca! Is that the Dragontank you were talking about?” he pointed to the left between two sheds. It had a large bronze colored body sitting on two wheels. The neck stretched a good six feet above them. The head looked like it opened. The document she had skimmed said it would spew out flames. Dragon indeed. The eyes were glowing and the engine inside was rumbling softly.

“We have to destroy it,” and he started off towards it. Lucca stared dumbly after him.

“What?!” She demanded clunking after him. That had been the last thing she had ever expected him to say. “Crono, surely you mean we need to get out of here as quietly and inconspicuously as possible.”

“Think about it. You said it could destroy the castle walls! Why would Guardia, who’s been at peace for four hundred years, need a siege tank? Even if we did want to take over Medina we wouldn’t need anything like this because they have no strong fortifications. There are mystics in the castle. We can’t have this kind of thing here possibly in their control.”

“The military doesn’t need mystics in their ranks to come up with reasons to develop all kinds of new weapons and technology for the express purpose of blowing stuff up. It’s what they do,” Lucca explained, but Crono was not listening. He was running off towards the damn dragon tank!

“This is such a bad idea,” she mumbled to herself as she reluctantly followed. How did she get herself into these messes?

“So what do we do?” he asked her when she caught up.

“You’re asking me?!” she replied dumbfounded, “This is your hair-brained scheme!”

“Lucca, you’re the mechanical genius,” he replied smoothly, “And you have a talent for making things explode that are not supposed to.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said sarcastically, but she tore off her helmet and peered at the apparatus anyway. “Let me get this side panel off.” She pried the panel off with her pocket-knife revealing the circuitry underneath. Before she could begin to make sense of it she was shoved to the side.

“What the hell was that…for?” she trailed off as she realized that the concrete she had just been kneeling on was burned black and still smoking. What had happened? “It shot some kind of laser at you when you took the panel off,” Crono explained without her having to ask. The Dragon Tank moved. It charged toward them. “Lucca! Watch out!” Crono shouted. He rolled away.

Lucca ran. She tripped. The tank drove over her foot. Lucca screamed. She rolled as far as she could. Missiles flew into crates and walls alike. The thing was shooting out flames. Fire breathing dragon indeed! Lucca tried to stand but her ankle would not support her weight. So she crawled. She turned back just in time to see Crono jump on top of the mechanical monstrosity and stab his sword into the heart of the machine. Lucca wanted to scream at him. It was a machine! Not a living breathing animal. That would never…The tank exploded…work. Crono flew backwards landing beside her.

“That was rash.” She chided him. He smiled back, already on his feet.

“You okay Lucca? I thought it had you there for a second.” Crono asked pulling her up off the ground. He swung her arm around his shoulder to support her. They turned around only to find the way blocked by a dozen soldiers.

“You know, next time you decide to do what’s right for king and country I’m going to kill you myself.”

* * *

Marle was well on her way. She had made it outside the castle. Not that that was particularly hard for one of the royal blood. She had discarded that useless good for nothing formal gown and was comfortably clothed in her jumper. She had enough food for several days and plenty of jewels and gold to get more until she figured out where she was going to go. And most importantly she had her mother’s letter. She looked back at the castle one last time. It had been her home for almost seventeen years. It meant nothing to her at the moment. And yet, she couldn’t turn away.

An explosion destroyed her reverie. It was not far. There were soldiers running everywhere. She ran toward the mayhem without thinking. Maybe some small part of her still did care about what happened to the palace. She’d have to work on that.

As she drew close the scene was the last thing she had ever expected. There were so many soldiers and for what? Two teenagers? She had never realized what bullies her father’s men truly were. She forced herself to slow. It wouldn’t do to be out of breadth or flustered.

“Stop it!” She commanded them. They turned toward her. Her world froze. It was Crono. Crono was alive!

“Princess Nadia!” And Lucca was there with him too. She seemed to be having trouble standing.

“These are friends of mine. I do not appreciate you manhandling them in this manner. Now show them your respect. Release them.”

“B-but…”

“Can’t you take orders?” she demanded harshly.

“Yes, of course princess,” he said as he bowed deeply to her. He signaled his men. They untied her friends. She ran to Crono unable to keep her tears in check and threw her arms around him.

“You’re alive! I’m so sorry I got you into all this.” She reluctantly pulled away. “Lucca! You’re hurt. Here let me help.” She placed her hand on Lucca’s ankle, closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. She channeled all her warmth into her hand and then into Lucca. Lucca gasped in surprise.

“How did you…?” Lucca barely whispered now standing comfortably on two feet.

“Come on… we have to leave.” Marle gestured for her friends to follow.

“Hold it right there!” a voiced boomed. Marle turned to see the squat old man approach. It was rare for the Chancellor to leave the castle grounds. He looked out of place.

“You will do as King Guardia XXXIII says,” he directed the guards.

“Which means when he’s not here, they will listen to me Chancellor!” Marle yelled.

“Ah, but my dear, he is here,” the Chancellor explained while making a grand gesture to announce the arrival of the king.

“Father,” Marle started. It was even stranger seeing her father out of doors. Well, at least in recent years. She remembered seeing him spar and ride horses with the soldiers and take her mother and herself on walks throughout the gardens. But those memories were so dim she couldn’t really picture them clearly anymore. It was almost like the man standing before her and the man in her dreams were different people.

“Silence Princess Nadia! Your responsibilities as a princess come before your personal wishes. I am disappointed to see you abusing your position and privilege for your own selfish gain.”

“Abusing my position? Me? Look at you! Just because I have a title does not mean I am not a person! I don’t blindly follow rules and regulations. You, by letting Crono be tried and sentenced to execution on charges that are absolutely ridiculous, are the one who is not living up to your responsibilities!”

“You pick up strange ideas venturing outside. From hence forth you shall remain in the palace here under the tutelage of the Chancellor until such time I believe you have learned how to be a princess.”

“I didn’t pick up anything. It’s called common sense. And I cannot believe you would lock me up in that fortress! Especially under the thumb of that corrupt treasonous weasel! Mother wanted me to live life in all its passion and freedom,” his face constricted in pain, but Marle could not bring herself to care, “not stay locked up in a cage, no matter how pretty it might be.”

“Princess Nadia!” the King shouted in anger.

“I despise you! I’m leaving.”

“Princess Nadia!” The Chancellor screeched, trying to physically block her path. Marle just shoved him to the side.

“C’mon Crono. Let’s get out of here.” Her tirade over, Marle stalked off. Crono and Lucca followed leaving a team of guards, the Chancellor, and the King standing there in shock. She was absolutely furious and began running. Crono and Lucca followed.

“You idiots! Don’t just stand there! After them!” The Chancellor’s angry orders already seemed distant. They had better not catch her. She wanted blood.

“Marle, where are you going?” It was Crono. Marle was startled by the question. They were in a clearing in the forest. She really didn’t know where they were. But it didn’t matter as long as it was away from the castle.

“A gate!” Lucca exclaimed. Walking toward the beginnings of the blue portal.

“Come on!” Marle said without hesitation. This was the perfect getaway.

“But we don’t know where it’ll take us!” Lucca looked genuinely scared.

“Who cares?! This place stinks anyway!” Marle countered. It didn’t matter where they went as long as it was away from here.

“Princess Nadia!” The chancellor had arrived with his usual pack of goons. “We have you surrounded. There is no escape.” Well, that settled things then. She walked towards the gate. Lucca grabbed her arm to stop her.

“This is completely irrational,” Lucca said deathly serious.

“What choice do we have Lucca?” Crono asked her softly. “Do you want to be executed?”

“Princess Nadia, your father wishes to see you. Step away from that hoodlum and you can come back to the palace. If you resist we may have to hurt you. There is no escape. Make this easy on yourself.” the Chancellor said.

Lucca stepped toward the portal and it expanded. The Chancellor’s shock was truly priceless – a look that Marle would treasure. They all stepped through. Marle embraced the blue crackling energy around her. Where would they end up? Actually, perhaps the question should be when.

Chapter Text

Crono crashed to the hard metallic floor. Marle screamed and Lucca groaned indicating they suffered similar fates. At least there were no rocks to knock him unconscious this time. He sat up slowly trying to reorient himself.

“You know, I think we should stick to going through the gate one at a time. That seemed to work better,” he suggested.

“At least there is no way the Chancellor can reach us here,” Marle said rising to her feet. “But where are we?”

“Don’t you mean when?” Crono corrected. Lucca rose to her feet. But she wasn’t listening to them. Her attention was on her surroundings.

“The civilization here seems so advanced,” she mumbled more to herself than to either of her companions. They had arrived in a small empty room. But the floor was some kind of metal rather than concrete or mortar like in Truce. The walls were even stranger. They weren’t really walls, but rather formed a dome on three sides and seemed to be made of a dark glass. But it seemed foolhardy to construct a building out of glass. At least, it did to Crono.

“Like we’re in another world,” Marle agreed, but Lucca didn’t seem to hear her. Her attention was clearly focused elsewhere. Crono turned to Marle with a wide grin.

“Don’t mind Lucca. She’s just fascinated with new technology,” he explained.

“Crono! Would you look at this?!” She was running her hands over a panel in the wall. It had a strange crest on it. “It’s unlike anything I’ve seen. I think it’s a door. But there’s no way to open it. It seems to be sealed.”

“This door is not,” Marle had found the exit to the dome on the opposite side of the room.

“C’mon Lucca. We can always come back. In the meantime I say we find some people so we can figure out when this is and see if we can’t find another way to get home,” Crono said.

“Yeah. I suppose you’re right.” Lucca admitted. Crono was just glad he didn’t have to drag her away. He was certain there would be more interesting things to see. He followed the girls out of the dome and stopped dead in his tracks.

The world was… dead. The very sky was laden with a heavy dark fog that the sun could barely break through. Broken domes lay scattered between the skeletons of trees, amongst the rocks and rubble that made the terrain. There was no grass or flowers. There were no birds or animals. There certainly was no evidence of any kind of people in the vicinity. The whole world had fallen still and deathly silent.

“What could have happened?” Marle asked.

“I don’t know.” Lucca whispered in response. They continued to stare. Crono wanted to deny the obvious, but somehow the world had been destroyed.

“This must be the future,” he said breaking the eerie silence.

“Something to look forward to?” Lucca suggested sarcastically. All three remained transfixed.

“But how far into the future?” Marle asked softly.

“We aren’t going to find any answers standing here gawking. Let’s try to find some people,” Crono started to head in the direction he thought was north.

“Crono, are you sure? What makes you think anyone survived? Maybe we should go back,” Lucca called after him.

“No, we can’t go back!” Marle interrupted. “The Chancellor will be waiting. Then you two will only end up back in prison with a death sentence and I will be locked up for the rest of my life.”

“But there may not be another gate! We may be stuck here. And forgive me, but this doesn’t seem like a place anyone would want to call home,” Lucca voice was getting louder.

“I brought a few days worth of food. Let’s go explore. If we don’t find anything or anyone we can always come back,” Marle said reaching for her bag, probably to show them the food. Crono noticed she had a crossbow on her back. Crono imagined that she would be an even better shot with the real weapon than she had been with the toys at the fair. And she had a sword!

“Marle! Is that my sword?” he asked suddenly excited.

“Uh, yes it is,” she handed it to him awkwardly. “I chanced across it in the armory and could not stand the idea of it going to some random soldier.”

“Thanks,” he said sincerely, “I thought I had lost her already.” He quickly looped the sheathe through his belt. He now felt ready for anything. “Let’s go then.” He headed north with the two girls following behind him.

* * *

Marle had been walking for hours, but it felt like days. Her legs were lead and her feet very much wanted to just fall off. Her thin slippers were not adequate protection against the harsh environment that surrounded her and her companions. Even her throat ached, probably from breathing in this heavy air filled with smoke and ash. To make matters worse her stomach was actively protesting its lack of nourishment. She stumbled forward over a piece of debris. It was getting dark and she hadn’t really seen it.

They were in the ruins of some kind of laboratory or at least that’s what Lucca had said. Marle had not a clue as to what that conclusion was based on. Crono held out his arm to steady her. She nodded in thanks. She did not speak. Neither of her companions seemed to have anything to say either. Words just seemed out of place in this silent world of death. Marle no longer held out any hopes that they would find anything. Everything seemed to have perished except the rats. Oh there were so many rats. It was creepy. This whole time period was creepy.

It was strange to realize that she had always taken life for granted. Not really just her own, but the life that surrounded a person. Birds, trees, insects, and flowers – it was just there. It didn’t really seem to affect her, but its absence was most definitely felt. Time travel seemed like such an exciting adventurous idea. Going into the past and meeting her ancestors during a time of trial, knowing that the future was better and brighter, had been almost romantic. It truly had been an amazing experience despite the fact that she had almost ceased to exist.

Being here, in the future, was quite different. Marle was uncertain as to whether she still would have chosen to come here had she known what was here. Now she knew the future was dark and bleak. What was the point in striving to achieve in the present if it only led to this?

“We should stop,” Crono croaked, proceeding to do just that. Marle stopped in place more to prevent herself from running into him than because she had heard him.

“Over there we will have a little protection from the wind,” he pointed to an area that had two and a half walls and even those weren’t completely solid. At least there was some overhead protection. Marle and Lucca trudged in the general direction by way of response. Together the three of them cleared the area of debris so they had a place to sit. Lucca began separating out pieces and throwing them together in a pile. Then amazingly she pulled out some matches out of her pocket and kneeled down by her pile of trash. Within moments there was a little fire dancing furiously. Despite its smell, Marle moved closer to the friendly light and warmth eagerly.

“Thank you Lucca,” Marle smiled at the inventor. It was the first time she had smiled all day. It felt a bit awkward, but it also felt good. She reached into her bags to offer her own contribution.

“Jerky!” Crono cried with delight plopping down on the ground next to her, “my favorite!” Marle laughed as she handed him his portion.
“Good, because it is all I have.” The three time travelers quickly devoured their much-desired food. Despite Crono’s praise, Marle felt the meal could have been more satisfying, but it was better than nothing.

“Lucca? May I ask you something?” Marle asked licking the last bits of jerky off her fingers. Her governess would have been appalled. Lucca nodded her assent.

“Why can we still remember the old past? And not the new one?”

“I don’t know. Time travel is just as new to me.”

“But I bet you have a theory,” Crono piped in.

“Maybe, but I have no evidence.” Lucca said evasively. Marle could tell that Lucca did not enjoy giving out un-informed information. She was silent for a moment lost in thought. “I think we weren’t affected by the change in the timeline because we weren’t present when the changes were taking place.” She stopped as if that explained everything. Marle still did not understand however.

“What? But we had to be present in 990 or no one would remember us.” Crono obviously shared her confusion.

Lucca shook her head, “No, we were in the past. After we changed things we entered a portal that took us to the year 1000 after the changes had taken place. But we are from the original timeline still.”

“But doesn’t that mean there should be another version of us? From this timeline?” Marle asked.

“Maybe.” Lucca said softly, obviously lost in thought. “Maybe they went back in the past too and changed it differently and when they went to the present they went to a different timeline.”

Marle didn’t even want to think about the implications of that. That would mean there were millions of timelines that all existed at the same time. How would that even work?

“Or perhaps there are no other versions of ourselves.” Lucca continued, “But we would have to retain the memories of the original timeline in order to affect change. If our memories altered every time we changed something in the past, a time paradox would occur. Let’s say you go back in time to change the future. In your new memories, the future wouldn’t need to be fixed and you’d never go back and fix anything, meaning the original future would still occur. We retain the memories of the old timeline because that is where we are from, but by changing things we caused the old timeline to vanish.” She paused for a moment, “This stuff is so confusing! It doesn’t make sense at all.”

“You’re telling me.” Crono agreed.

“It really shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t be possible to…” Lucca trailed off with a frown on her face.

“Well, obviously it is,” Marle said looking at the surroundings.

“Yeah,” Lucca agreed reluctantly. “Crono? Do you really think this is the future?”

“Can’t imagine when else it could be,” Crono responded. “Last I checked the world was still living. Plus, you said this place was advanced.”

“It may be advanced,” Marle said, “but it’s also kind of scary.” She shuddered.

“Try not to think about it.” Crono said. “Just pretend you’re camping or something.”

“I have never been camping,” Marle admitted, “but I suppose I could try.”

“You’ve never been camping?” Lucca asked amazed.

“I am a princess! Princesses are supposed to live in luxury – they do not rough it out in the middle of a forest. It would not be proper.” Marle explained using the most condescending tone she could muster. Lucca and Crono both seemed taken aback with identical looks of shock. Marle could not keep her straight face. She broke into a broad grin and burst out laughing. Crono and Lucca realized they were being teased and joined in.

“There must be so many things that you’ve never done,” Crono said in dismay, “You’re missing out.”

“But there’s probably things that she has done that you’ve never even considered,” Lucca interjected. They continued to argue amiably back and forth. Marle smiled in contentment. This was what it was like to have friends. The teasing and meaningless chatter was wonderful all by itself. And they didn’t care that she was a princess. In fact, it seemed they had forgotten the fact. Then there was the fact that they had risked their lives to save her in the past. She felt… well, special was the only word she could think of.

“Marle, you tell him,” Lucca said.

“Tell him what?” Marle had not been listening.

“Tell him all the amazing adventure you’ve had,” Lucca clarified.

“Adventures? Life as a princess is pretty boring really. No one wants to let you do anything except study etiquette, history, languages, and politics,” Marle explained. Crono made a face of disgust.

“You mean you’ve never done anything interesting or fun?” He asked. Marle wanted to laugh. He was like a child.

“I did not say that. I did all kinds of things. How do you think the rumors about me being a tomboy all got started?” Marle went on to explain her experiences horseback riding and learning archery. She told them about scaling the castle walls to get around some guards to leave the palace for the afternoon. Crono especially seemed to appreciate how difficult that could be. And then there was the time that she stowed away on a diplomatic mission to Medina. She had wanted to meet the mystics. Her father had not been pleased.

Marle was amazed at her captive audience. Usually if she told her tales to anyone they would express only disapproval - her behavior was not acceptable in a princess. Crono and Lucca though, were interested. When hearing the stories, they rooted for her to escape from palace life. They laughed at the ridiculous trouble she got herself into. It made her want to cry.

“Marle, what’s wrong?” Lucca asked suddenly. Marle had stopped in the middle of a story, her throat constricted. She struggled to keep her tears at bay but they were too strong and soon they escaped down her face.

“Marle?” Crono was now concerned as well. Marle tried to find the words to reassure her newfound friends.

“Nothing, nothing is wrong,” she eventually managed. “I’m just happy. I have never really had real friends before. I did not know what I was missing.” Her friends smiled, but they did not know how to react to this news. Obviously they did not know what it was like to not have true friends. Suddenly she laughed.

“You guys look ridiculous,” she said wiping the last of her tears off her face. Crono and Lucca shared a look and they both shrugged identically. Marle started laughing again.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Crono asked turning to Lucca after a moment of silence. Lucca shook her head. “It reminds me of that time we fell asleep in the tree house.” Lucca looked at him in puzzled. “You know… our ‘date’.”

“Date?! Ha! Your idea of a date is inviting me over to help you do chores! You’re lucky I put up with you!” Despite her words, Lucca was laughing.

Marle froze. Lucca had risked death to save Crono. He obviously meant more to her than a friend. And she was obviously more than that to him.

“Yeah, but afterwards we made a fortress in the backyard out of boards and insisted that it was our house. Then we fell asleep out there and your mom was furious…”

Crono and Lucca went on reminiscing and relating their own mischievous tales to Marle. She only half listened. She somehow managed to smile and laugh in all the right places. But truly she felt numb. And she did not know why. No, that was not true. If she was honest with herself, she had imagined Crono as some hero in a tale come to save the princess from her horrible fate. Then he was supposed to fall in love with her and they would live happily ever after.

Those were only tales she told herself. Besides, she didn’t love him. Sure she liked him, but it didn’t matter because a princess would never be allowed to marry a commoner anyway. Well, maybe if her mother had been alive, but she was not. And why was she upset over losing something she had never really had in the first place? She still had two friends now, which meant she had it better than she had ever before. And yet her feelings couldn’t be rationalized away.

Eventually the chatter died away and it was mutually understood that it was time to try to get some rest. Marle could not keep her mind quiet enough to fall asleep. So she curled up trying not to think until sheer exhaustion overtook her.

* * *

Lucca sat up with a start, gasping for air, her heart racing. She forced her clutched fists to relax and took a few slow calming breadths trying to determine why she was so afraid, but her nightmares fled into her unconscious mind faster than she could hold them. Just as well, she supposed. She had plenty to worry about without adding her dreams to the list.

Lucca screamed and jumped to her feet. She had felt something crawling on her. It was only a rat, she realized, trying to calm herself for the second time. There were dozens of them swarming over their bags. She stomped all over the ground, trying to scare the nasty rodents off. Between her screaming and her violent antics, both Crono and Marle had awoken. They both appeared to be a little groggy.

“Sorry,” Lucca meekly apologized as she went through her own belongings. “Those damn rats ate through some of my healing tonics.” She was more irritated that her entire bag was now wet than that the tonics were useless. Tonics were cheap and easily replaced. Well, maybe not in this time she admitted to herself.

“Hopefully we won’t need them,” Crono said as he pulled on his sheath.

“Oh no! The rats also got into the food!” Marle exclaimed.

“How bad?” Lucca asked. If they had no food maybe they should turn back.

“I’d say we have two days left if we stretch it.” Marle responded.

“Let’s keep going,” Crono said as he stared off in the distance, “If we don’t find anything in another day we can go back.”

And so they began their second day of traveling. The high spirits and comradery of the previous night seemed to have vanished in the pathetic excuse of daylight. It was hard to be in a good mood when the sun barely made it through the thick haze that dominated the sky. Soon the scenery changed from laboratory ruins to seemingly endless plains. Only, very little was growing. Every now and then they would pass some kind of broken down machinery. Lucca couldn’t even make herself feel curious about what function it might have performed. She tried if only to keep herself from thinking about the landscape, but her heart just wasn’t in it.

Around midday, the three travelers stopped for a time and had some more jerky. Not nearly enough to really fill her up, but it didn’t matter. Lucca didn’t feel particularly hungry.

Marle sighed heavily. “I wish we had some fruit or bread. Something fresh at least, to add more variety,” she said. Fruit? How could the girl be thinking of fruit? They had so many bigger problems. Lucca tried to clamp down on her irritation. As a princess she was probably used to a certain level of luxury.

“Hey, do you see that?” Crono pointed to the southeast. Lucca squinted trying to make something, anything out, but the haze was thick and it was hard to see very far.

“See what?”

“I think its another dome,” now that he mentioned it, Lucca could make out the outline of a semi-spherical object, barely. It was so faint! Lucca was not convinced that she was not imagining it because he told her it was there. Marle picked up her things and started trudging in that general direction. Lucca and Crono ran momentarily to catch up.

But as they traveled the dome came more solidly into view. Lucca no longer doubted that it was there, but she was having a hard time telling how far away it was. Besides blocking out half the sun and making it hard to breathe, the thick atmosphere distorted their perception of distance.

“It never gets any closer,” Marle complained.

“I think we’re almost there,” Crono reassured.

“We’d better be. My feet are killing me and my lungs are on fire,” she added in the most whining tone.

“Complaining about it isn’t going to help any,” Lucca snapped at her, suddenly not being able to keep her irritation in. Marle looked hurt and began to sulk. Lucca did not care, so long as the girl stopped whining. Her feet and lungs didn’t feel too great either and it did not help to focus on it. Crono slowed his pace until he was beside Marle, and spoke too softly for Lucca to catch his words. Suddenly the princess laughed and was all smiles again. Lucca’s irritation soared. Of course he would coddle her. She sighed heavily knowing she was being unfair, and tried to release some of her frustration. She was only mildly successful.

Finally they reached the dome. It was immense. Luckily though, there seemed to be multiple entrances so they didn’t have to walk around the perimeter for prolonged periods of time.

Inside weak shafts of light shone through the heavy air. They were electric, Lucca realized dimly. Much more advanced than her father’s invention. Wooden and metallic planks alike were strewn across heaps of unrecognizable debris to bridge gaps in the broken down grated metal walkways. The path did not go straight towards the main part of the compound, but rather twisted in an odd indirect path. Lucca found herself, once again, wondering what could have happened. These people seemed to have so much at their disposal – so much technology anyway, and it was obviously not enough to save them.

The three companions silently worked their way through the maze of pathways towards, what Lucca believed, was the center of the compound. Doors struggled open when the time travelers approached leading them through more hallways and large rooms with mostly broken equipment.

Lucca rounded a corner and found herself face to face with a little girl who couldn’t be more than five. The filthy girl buried her gaunt face into a currently unrecognizable stuffed animal. Lucca stayed frozen in place not wanting to frighten her.

“Hi there,” Marle said brightly reaching out to her. The girl shied away never breaking eye contact with the princess. To Lucca, she looked like a doe ready to bolt the second there an opening presented itself.

“Its okay, we won’t hurt you,” Crono tried to reassure her. Her eyes darted to him then back to Marle.

“Do you understand us?” Marle asked. The girl continued to stare at them.

“Lucca,” Lucca pointed to herself. “ My name is Lucca.” She put her hand on Crono’s soldier, “Crono” she said slowly. Then pointed to Marle, “Marle.” Then she crouched down low and pointed, “You?”

“Mai,” the girl said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Hello Mai,” Marle said, “We won’t hurt you.” She kept staring at Marle.

“That’s Marle,” Lucca said again still being careful not to make any sudden movements. Marle dropped down to her knees looking at the girl now at eye level. The girl’s vision dropped and Lucca realized what interested the girl.

“Marle, she likes your pendant,” Lucca said softly.

“This?” Marle asked the girl holding it out from her neck. The girl came forward slowly with wide eyes, reaching eagerly for it. She smiled slightly when she touched it.

“You know what? I might have…” Marle swung her pack around from her bag. The girl instantly jumped back, startled.

“It’s okay,” Marle said softly. She reached into the pack and pulled out a gold necklace with a princess cut deep red gemstone set into a golden heart. Lucca could not imagine what the piece might be worth. Thousands at least. Marle just held it out towards the little girl in offering as if it was nothing. It probably was nothing to a princess.

Mai came forward instantly to take the necklace – her fear of strangers vanished in light of the shiny gift. Mai tried in vain to fit the necklace over her head. Marle and Lucca both laughed at her antics.

“Let me help,” Marle said as she gently took the necklace back, unclasped the latch, encircled it around the girl’s neck, and reclasped it. The girl held it up to her face and laughed in delight. She then grabbed Marle’s hand and pulled her down the corridor deeper into the complex. She seemed to know where she was going. Lucca glanced at Crono who merely shrugged. They both followed. Lucca felt hopeful for the first time since arriving in this time of ruin. If people still lived, all was not lost.

Chapter Text

Mai pulled the pretty lady by the hand through the red hallway. Of all the halls and corridors in the dome, the red hallway was the most treacherous – with few ladders or islands of safety from the swirling flows of hot magma that resided below. Mai confidently guided the pretty lady through making sure to avoid the fire demons’ lairs by a good margin.

Then they arrived at the green hallway. The green was Mai’s favorite! It was inhabited by sparkling fairies and forest sprites that often delighted in telling Mai fanciful stories that made her laugh, but she didn’t have time for that just now. Today she was a guide to a pretty princess and that meant she had to be responsible and lead the lady through. The only danger in the green hallway was that if you did not follow the exact right swirling and twisting path the fairies would send you back to the beginning so it was easy to get lost. But Mai knew the ways through better than anyone! No one else would explore with her so they did not know it – not as well as she did!

When they reached the people room, Mai felt the lady suddenly stop. Mai turned around. The lady’s mouth was half open staring at the huddles of people in the corners barely whispering to one another. She seemed upset. Mai did not understand the problem. They were just people. Boring people too. Never wanted to move much, let alone explore.

The lady spoke softly to a nearby man. He merely blinked at her in surprise. And the pretty lady asked him another question. Mai worried that the man might eventually find his tongue and delay them even longer, so she tugged on the pretty lady’s hand once more and she followed.

Mai carefully picked her way through the people room to the blue hallway. The blue hallway was underwater and so you had to hold your breath and run across it, otherwise she might collapse in the middle and not reach the other side.

Mai knew the hallways didn’t really have different colors or lava or water, but she imagined that they did. They were more exciting that way. The creatures though – they really did exist. She knew because Papa had told her about them. They were in his giant computer. He had even shown her the pictures.

Finally she came to a door. She pushed the button on the wall and the door opened with a whoosh causing the lady to jump. Mai released the lady’s hand and ran into the darkened room to the bedridden woman in the corner.

“Momma! Momma! Look at the pretty this nice lady gave me!” Mai exclaimed excitedly holding out her new heart-shaped necklace.

…

“Moda! Moda! Loke ate thee praty thys nyce leuedy geve may!” the little girl shouted running into a darkened room and Marle followed her. Crono and Lucca seemed to have fallen behind. The princess gasped. The dark room was occupied by a woman lying on a raised platform. She might even have been young, but her skin stretched out like rubber and clung unnaturally close to her bones. Her whole face, especially her eyes, seemed hollow and empty. But her belly swelled with child.

Mai leapt up onto the edge of the platform and held out the necklace Marle had given her. Marle noticed she was very careful to sit next to her fragile mother and not on her. The woman gave a small smile to the girl and closed her eyes again.

The young mother was going to die. Marle had no doubt. She should be dead already. She was starving. If it was ever born, the child would probably be stillborn. But maybe it didn’t have to be that way. The princess came forward immediately, channeling golden warmth from her core into her hand. She pooled all the healing energy she could manage and released it over the starving woman trying to concentrate on the woman’s belly.

The woman’s eyes fluttered open, both of them wide with surprise.

“Wha- ” she started to ask. But Marle heard no more. Her vision was spinning. She had used too much of herself.

…

“Can you tell me what year it is?” Crono asked for about the third time. The woman stared at him blankly. She clearly did not understand a word he said. Just like the other half dozen he and Lucca had tried to talk to, she seemed shocked by their presence. The people murmured to one another nervously and shot curious glances at them, but Crono could not understand them anymore than they understood him.

“How do they…” Lucca’s voice trembled in emotion. Crono knew she was close to tears. He understood. He felt it too. They were trying to talk to walking corpses. The people were still talking and breathing, but they were not living. And it wasn’t just that they were obviously starving, though that made it worse. It was that the people didn’t seem remotely interested two teenage strangers in their midst. It was like they just couldn’t bring themselves to care enough to move. He felt it as anger. To make things worse there was no one to blame – no obvious source of this travesty that he could direct his anger towards.

“What… could have happened?” Lucca managed to finish. Crono could only shake his head.

“Cro! Cro!” Mai came running up urgently. She grabbed his hand and pulled him through the open room and down the corridor she had disappeared down earlier – Lucca followed close behind.

The room was dark, but not dark enough to prevent him from seeing Marle collapsed on the floor. He ran to her side.

“What happened?” he demanded, fully aware they probably wouldn’t be able to understand him. A woman – a very pregnant woman he had somehow failed to notice – started speaking very rapidly, but it was useless. He looked up at Lucca who shook her head to indicate she did not understand either. Lucca kneeled down next to him. And the woman turned and began speaking rapidly to Mai instead.

“She’s breathing Crono. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with her.” Lucca said. She was trying to reassure him, he knew. But if nothing was wrong, why was she unconscious?

Lucca stood up and moved towards the corner of the dim room.

“Crono, you gotta see this! This is amazing!”

“What is?” he asked, not sparing her even a glance.

“I think it’s a computer. There’s a full graphic interface and an input panel, but there’s no visible storage unit,” she spoke rather quickly, but increasingly to herself. The only way Lucca could work through anything was if she thought out loud. Usually he was her sounding board, but right now it just pissed him off.

“Lucca! I don’t care! This is not the time for you to be gawking at fascinating technology!” He exclaimed.

“Geez, sorry,” Lucca mumbled. “You don’t have to shout. You’re scaring Mai.” The little girl had indeed shrunk up against her mother. Crono shot the girl an apologetic look he hoped she understood. It seemed she did, as Mai immediately moved away from the protective shelter of her swollen mother and approached Marle. She picked up the princess’s hand, put it over her shoulder, and began to pull on it with all her might. She was trying to move Marle’s body, Crono realized.

So he scooped the princess into his arms. Mai then lead him to the far wall where she pushed a button. He jumped back startled as the wall split open to reveal a human sized cavity. Mai patted the wall, indicating he should place Marle inside. He did so hesitantly. And then the walls closed back up on her.

“Marle!” Crono leapt forward trying to pry the doors back open, but Mai just grabbed his hand and pulled him back. He looked at her and she just grinned. And suddenly the doors opened again and Marle was alert and awake.

“Crono?” Marle asked confused, “What happened?”

“You were unconscious. Mai had us put you into this machine,” he explained. “How do you feel?”

“I feel great! More rested than I have felt in weeks! I am a little hungry though.”

“Wow! That’s amazing!” Lucca exclaimed, “A machine that can give you a full night’s rest in seconds! You know what I could accomplish if I had one of these?!” Crono rolled his eyes turning his attention back to Marle.

“What happened?” Crono asked her, pulling her out of the strange contraption. “Why were you unconscious?” Marle blushed in response.

“I… uh… I overextended myself trying to heal this woman and her baby. One would think I would have learned by now…”

“Heal?” Lucca asked, “Like you did with my ankle? How?”

“It’s an ability that goes in and out of the royal family. Neither of my parents could do it, but my grandmother could. And an uncle, though it’s a trait that is more common in females.”

“But how do you do it?” Lucca asked again.

“I don’t really know. You just concentrate on your aura and channel it through your hands – it feels warm. And people get healed. It takes energy to do it though. I tried to do too much too fast. And it probably didn’t help that I had healed your broken ankle this morning. So I collapsed. I will be fine. This has happened before. Just need to rest.”

“Well, if you’re not too tired, I’d love it if you came and took a look at this.” Lucca pointed to the computer display.

“Yes, of course,” Marle said as she slowly came to her feet. Crono followed to see what was on the display.

Arris Knowleche Stalle
Nome: Gian Ralot
Secreworde: 

“Arris? Well, Knowleche is probably knowledge. Gian Ralot?” Crono read aloud.

“Gayan!” Mai repeated excitedly.

“Gayan?” Marle repeated.

“May papa!” Mai said excitedly, ducking underneath Lucca and Marle. She looked at the display and confidently entered a short sequence into the board. The screen changed to three icons that were labeled with more foreign words. Crono sighed. This was going to get old rather quickly. Lucca and Marle, on the other hand, both seemed fascinated. Marle with the language, and Lucca, with the interactive system itself. Mai pointed at icons and babbled excitedly at the two girls. Crono smiled at her antics.

He turned back to the pregnant woman and his smile instantly faded. Somehow her obvious pregnancy made her starvation more apparent. Crono looked at her and knew that this woman suffered from something that could not be healed no matter how much energy Marle expended. The woman simply needed food.

Without thought, Crono grabbed up Marle’s bag that she had left where she had collapsed. The jerky was right on top, easy to find. He pulled out a strip, took a bite to show her what it was, and offered the rest to the woman. She grabbed it quickly as if afraid he might change his mind. She made short work of the dried meat, eyeing him suspiciously all the while. He just smiled encouragement at her.

“Theenk yo,” she said softly.

“Your welcome,” he replied sincerely. “What’s your name?” Crono asked. She raised her eyebrows in confusion.

“Crono,” Crono pointed to himself. “Mai,” he pointed to the girl who was excitedly chattering at the bright screen. “You?”

“Sura,” she replied.

“Pleased to meet you Sura,” Crono said holding out his hand. She grasped it and her smile broadened.

“Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?” Crono asked. She gave him a puzzled look.

“Boy?” he pointed to himself. “Or a girl?” He gestured to her and then pointed to her belly. She didn’t seem to understand so he tried to think of another way to mime the question. He soon learned that she wanted a boy. And the two of them started miming questions and answers back and forth while the girls chattered away about whatever was on that screen. It was not an efficient way to communicate, but they eventually understood each other. And Crono could tell that Sura was enjoying having someone to ‘talk’ to.

Apparently her husband, Gian, was gone. Crono presumed that he was dead, but he wasn’t sure. Gian seemed to have been some kind mechanic that worked with machines. The machines were supposed to keep them safe, but something had gone wrong. And the machines were dangerous now, though why was unclear. For some reason, this meant they couldn’t get food. So they were living off rats and something else, but Crono could not figure out what Sura meant when she raised and wiggled her fingers.

“I know this one!” Marle exclaimed suddenly. Crono jumped.

“Big deal!” Lucca replied. Crono could hear Lucca rolling her eyes and suppressed a chuckle. “It’s just a fairy tale! How is it going to help us? We should go back to the log.”

“Lucca! The language has changed too much. You and I can’t read this very well. But I know how this story goes and perhaps with the help of the illustrations, I can learn the shift and help you translate the ‘important’ logs.”

“That will take you weeks! We don’t have that much time. And plus, how much language of that fairy tale is going to overlap with technical diaries?”

“You might be surprised!” Marle began heatedly.

“So!” Crono interrupted, “What have you guys figured out so far?”

The girls turned to him startled, having evidently forgotten he was there.

“This device seems to store information about this facility,” Lucca explained. “It has some kind of log or record that are dated 2299 A.D., maps of the facility, and of all things fairy tales.” Lucca rolled her eyes at this last addition.

“It makes sense!” Marle insisted, “He needed this information for his work, but he had those stories in there for Mai. To tell her bedtime stories and what not.”

“Whose he?” Crono asked.

“Presumably, whoever wrote this log. This Gayan that Mai was so excited about.”

Crono glanced back at Sura. “I think he might be dead.”

“Anyway,” Lucca interrupted, “the maps indicate there is a storage facility and a large computer below. There seems to be some kind of security protecting these systems, but the details are not clear.”

“Let’s go check it out then,” Crono said getting to his feet.

“What?” Marle asked obviously startled by the suggestion. Lucca didn’t even bat an eyelash at the suggestion. She knew him too well. “But we don’t know what’s down there. It could be dangerous,” Marle continued.

“Best way to find out what is down there is to go down there and find out,” Crono argued, handing the princess her crossbow. Then he walked out, turning back only to wave farewell to Sura and Mai.

“Yeah,” Lucca called after him sarcastically, “and your willingness to just dive in has never gotten us into any trouble before.” But she got to her feet as well and followed him. Marle was not far behind.

…

Doan slumped down to the ground. The jarring of his already aching bones made him regret this action immediately. It didn’t matter anymore though. It was only a matter of time before everyone in the settlement withered away and starved. He knew this should upset him. That he should be angry or he should at least feel responsible for it all. He was the elder – he was supposed to be their leader. But he didn’t feel any of this. He was just tired. Tired of struggling, tired of fighting. Life had always been hard, but it had also once been accompanied by smiles and laughter. Somehow that seemed to make struggling worth it. Since Gian had passed away and the security bots had become enemies, life had become more than hard. It now seemed impossible.

His people were living off of rats and whatever edible grass they could find. It wasn’t enough. The rats were learning to avoid the dome. The good grasses that didn’t make you sick were getting harder to find. The Enertron was not restoring anyone fully anymore – it simply could not replace food.

His daughter was going to die in a matter of days – as soon as she went into labor. He had no hope for the baby either. A living baby hadn’t been born in six years. Mai was the last. Her days were just as numbered as her mother’s. She would probably be the last to go. She would die alone. The Powers that Be had long since forsaken them. So why did they struggle so hard? This harsh life wasn’t worth it. He could not even find the energy to cry.

Doan heard the laughter but he didn’t believe it. No one had any reason to laugh anymore. But the sound persisted and grew in volume. He must be losing what sanity he had left. He looked up to see three young people striding forward purposefully. Each proffered bright smiles with eyebrows arched in friendly greeting. Doan simply stared, dumbfounded. Sudden panic brought him back to himself again. They were headed below!

“No!” Doan leapt to his feet screaming. “You can’t go down there! You won’t come back.”

All three of the strangers turned back to regard him inquisitively. They didn’t understand his words he realized. He grabbed the blond girl’s hand and pulled her back towards himself. The redheaded youth came forward, open palms outward indicating he meant no harm. He put a hand on Doan’s shoulder and squeezed gently as if to reassure a small child. This act only confused Doan. They understood that he feared for them, but they did not share his trepidation.

He searched all three of their faces intently. There was no trace of fear. The youth with the helmet stood with shoulders squared casually readjusting her lenses. The blond girl just smiled at him making no attempt to reclaim her hand. She too, stood tall and confident. And the red headed youth seemed to only want to comfort him. They were so strange, so different.

Doan released the young lady’s hand. The young man patted his shoulder once more before turning back to descend the ladder. And they were all gone leaving Doan alone in the cold room. Doan sat back down right by the hatch, keeping vigil. He would wait until all three came back unharmed. He knew it was foolish to believe, it was foolish to hope, but it was all he had left.

…

“What do you think the old man was so frightened of?” Marle called down to them. She was walking a floor above them on a raised platform.

“I don’t know,” Crono called back. “There doesn’t seem to be anything down here.” The place was empty. Dark and empty. “Why? Are you nervous?”

“He had to have some reason. He seemed truly terrified for us.”

“I think Gian died down here,” Crono said. “Or he never came back anyway.”

“Maybe he fell off one of those catwalks.” Lucca chimed in teasingly.

Marle laughed. But then her laughter transformed and she screamed. Crono glanced up just to see her fall to the ground. He immediately started forward to run up the staircase.

“Don’t move!” Lucca shouted to him. Crono stopped immediately without thought. Marle needed help, but Lucca knew that. She would never have told him to stop without good reason.

He turned slightly towards her. She wasn’t moving either. She slipped her hand into her pocket, pulled out a small object, and threw it upward toward the catwalk.

A yellow laser beam struck whatever it was Lucca had thrown mid-air. It fell to the ground smoking.

“Did you see where it came from?” she whispered to him.

“No, we’re too far away.” Crono stared intently at Marle. She still hadn’t moved. He quickly made up his mind.

“I’ll distract it. You get up on that other catwalk,” he pointed to the raised walkway on the other side of the corridor, “and see if you can get a clear shot.”

“Crono!” Lucca yelled after him as he ran, “Damn it!”

Crono leapt up the stairs toward Marle. He saw the robot patrolling the far end of the walkway as he reached the top. Saw the golden mechanical eye swivel toward him. He dove forward feeling the heat of the laser just miss his shoulder. He rolled sideways and leapt to his feet. He drew his katana as he charged the metallic creature.

He swung the blade in an arc neatly decapitating the robot. Sparks flew in all directions. Two more sets of glowing eyes on the far side of the catwalk immediately turned toward him. He dropped straight to the floor to dodge the anticipated laser strikes.

“Lucca! There’s more of them!”

“Already on it!” And with her words she shot four explosive shots in quick succession. Only one found its target. The robot on the left exploded.

The second didn’t even seem to notice the disruption. It fired frighteningly accurate lasers as it approached. Crono barely stayed ahead of the thing as he dodged to the left and then right. He ducked down underneath the third shot and rolled forward bringing the metallic creature into range.

He swung his blade hard only to find it blocked by a metal arm.

“Crono! You’re blocking my shot!” Lucca shouted.

Crono couldn’t respond. He had other things to worry about. The robot blocked everything Crono threw at him. He feinted right only to strike left. He attacked high and low. And the creature always anticipated him. He wanted to keep the robot on the defensive because he didn’t think he could dodge a laser this close. But he was growing nervous. Crono brought the katana down hard and his blade locked between two armor plates. His blade was stuck firmly in place. Crono desperately pushed forward knowing that pulling back would be fatal.

Suddenly, the resistance vanished and Crono stumbled forward. A crossbow bolt protruded from the robot’s yellow eye sensor.

“Marle?” Crono asked as he turned toward her. And there she was leaning awkwardly against the railing.

“Nice shot!” Lucca called.

“Marle, you’re alright!” Crono shouted rushing back to her.

“Mostly,” Marle said. “Sorry for the scare.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re all right,” Crono said leaping to her aid. He helped her back to the ground. And she placed her hands on her injured thigh and closed her eyes. Her hands started faintly glowing.

“You can even heal yourself? But I thought the energy was coming from you.” Crono asked. Marle opened her eyes again and turned back to him.

“It is. But it’s a different kind of energy. It makes me tired so I’m more likely to fall asleep. But it knits the muscles and bones back together. It doesn’t completely heal everything. It will be stiff and sore for a few days and I will be prone to falling asleep. But I will be able to walk in the mean time. Seems like a fair exchange to me. Help me back up.”

“Your ability seems similar to Frog’s,” Crono said as he offered her a hand, “Way more appealing th-”

“Crono, your recklessness is going to going to get you killed someday,” Lucca interrupted as she ran up the stairs to her companions.

“Naw,” Crono waved away the admonishment dismissively, “Not as long as I have you to watch my back.”

“You’ll probably get me killed right along with you because I’m too stupid to have learned by now not to follow you around!” She said hotly. He just grinned innocently. Lucca couldn’t keep a straight face and was soon laughing.

“Damn it Crono! Why is it so impossible to stay mad at you?”

“It’s the hair! Don’t deny it.” he bantered back playfully.

“I guess we know how Gian died,” Marle broke in solemnly. The other two instantly sobered.

“Yeah, let’s go see if we can figure out what he died for?” Crono said softly gesturing for the other two to follow him.

The three progressed forward through the corridors much more cautiously – trying to stay underneath the shadows of the catwalks. Crono noticed two more patrolling robots, but they managed to avoid them fairly easily.

Lucca tapped his shoulder to get his attention. She gestured excitedly to a door on the far side of the storage room they were in. That must be where the computer was. Lucca would not be excited about the storage facility.

Without thinking, Crono eagerly stepped forward. He jumped back immediately as a yellow laser struck across his path. Crono immediately clutched at his sword, but a hand - Lucca’s hand, restrained him from drawing the blade. He followed her gaze and discovered a smoking and charred rat. The robot had not responded to his motion. It had charbroiled a rat scurrying across the path.

So he proceeded with more caution, keeping an eye on the artificially intelligent adversary. But they made it across the room. Really, the things weren’t that difficult to avoid if you knew that they were there. Crono shoved the heavy door open, held it open for his companions, and quickly followed them inside.

“Look at the size of this thing! This database must be huge!” Lucca exclaimed running over to a console.

“Do you think you could shut down the security system?” Marle asked.

“Good idea! I don’t know. Come give me a hand.”

And once again the two girls were chattering excitedly over the text that poured forth from the glass display.

“It’s no good,” Lucca declared, “I can only see the current conditions. I don’t seem to be able to change anything. Whenever I try, it prompts me for some kind of entry. I don’t have access.”

“You need a password,” Marle said, “The same thing happened on the console above. Remember? Mai entered something in before we could use it.”

“Well Lucca, how about you continue to do battle with the computer or at least find out what you can. Marle and I are going to check out the storage facility.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to wait until after I’ve shut down the security system?”

“Probably,” He said impudently. She sighed.

“Come on Marle!” Crono said gesturing for her to follow.

Marle and Crono made it through the multiple corridors without incident. The robots were becoming easier and easier to avoid. By observing the sentries attacking moving objects they learned what was within the androids’ line of site and what was not.

Crono pushed the door open and a rush of stale and rancid air came rushing out.

“Whew! It reeks!” Marle complained. Crono walked forward looking for a light switch or something. But he need not have bothered. The lights blinked on themselves. Crates were stacked haphazardly. Most were damaged and their contents spilled across the floor.

“This can’t be good.” Crono groaned. It wasn’t cold enough either.

“Crono! Look!” Marle ran over to a crumpled body.

“That must be Gian. He’s holding something.” Crono said joining her at the corpses’ side. Crono forced the stiff fingers to open found a worn piece of paper. He handed it to Marle.

“Can you make any sense of this?”

She shakes her head. “No, these are just random words. Not even words! They have letters and numbers. And they definitely don’t form a coherent thought or idea.”

“I guess he was already too far gone.”

“Maybe,” she agreed, but continued to study the writing.

“You doubt it?”

“It just seems too organized. See, each ‘word’ is labeled S1, S2, and S3. Seems like it has to mean something.”

“Alright, we’ll give it to Lucca. Maybe she can make some sense of it.”

“Before we head back let’s see if there’s anything that can be salvaged.”

They did a quick inventory. The results were not encouraging. The food had all rotted to uselessness. There was an entire wall of crates that seemed to be perfectly intact, but they were only filled with various types of seeds. All the other supplies had been discovered by the rats. They found some medical kits that might come in handy and exactly half of one crate of dried rations. Crono suspected that the only reason even that much food had survived was because it had fallen against the wall, sealing the damaged portion of the crate against unwanted scavengers.

“Do you think seeds could grow in a world like this?” Marle asked softly. Crono shook his head in uncertainty.

“I don’t know. I suppose it will have to. What other hope do these people have?”

Marle didn’t respond. She looked introspective.

“We should get these supplies back up above,” Crono said trying to interrupt what were probably depressing thoughts. “Sura especially, needs the extra sustenance. This stuff will be easier to carry if we consolidate it a little. Why don’t we put a few samples of each kind of seed and add a few of those kits. The people above may need them! We’ll put them in this one crate so it’ll be easier to transport.”

“Crono, sneaking past those robots is one thing. Getting this huge supply box through their patrol patterns without detection is probably not possible,” Marle objected.

“Do you have a better idea?” Crono asked. Marle cocked her head in thought. Crono found himself grinning at her expression. She was really cute when she did that. Suddenly her face lit up.

“Crono that’s it!” she exclaimed, excitedly waving the piece of paper in his face, “These are the passwords! We get this back to Lucca and she probably can disable the sentries!”

…

“Blasted useless hunk of scrap metal!” Lucca kicked the console in frustration.

“Damn it!” she cursed herself as she hopped around in a little circle on her uninjured foot. Then she started laughing. Once she had calmed down she forced her attention back to the less than helpful console.

“Come on Lucca, stay focused!” she said to herself. But she was tired of going through the same three security reports. There actually seemed to be twenty-eight security files in total, but she could not open twenty-five of them without some kind of entry or pass code. And the three she could see, but not edit, were less than easy to read. She was able to determine the sentries were currently programmed to destroy anything that moved. Which was less that useless! She already knew that! The only new piece of information Lucca had been able to decipher was that this program had been actively running for four months, eleven days, and six hours. And she didn’t think this piece of information was particularly helpful either.

The program did not make sense! Why would humans program robots that would kill humans? When designing robotic intelligence would it not be practical to put a line of code in there that said, ‘Thou shall not harm humans!’ It’s what Lucca would have done. Even Gato, whose whole purpose was combat, had a line of code that would not allow him to cause lethal damage.

She sighed. She was going in circles. It was time to change her approach. So she returned to the original screen. There seemed to be two main options: derectore and cerche. Lucca had no idea what either word meant. The derectore had lead to lists of folders and files. She had used it to find the security files. That meant it was time to try cerche. She clicked on the display and an empty field rose up once again, prompting her to enter something. She sighed again. She had no clue what the machine wanted from her.

She hit a bunch of random keys in frustration. The display instantly changed:

0 maches founden.

“Zero matches founden,” Lucca read aloud gleefully. She understood! Cerche meant search! Well, of course it did. She realized that she would probably understand a lot more of what she was reading if she read it out load. While the written spellings often made little to no sense, the phonemes formed words that audibly made sense to her. This era’s residents obviously pronounced most of these phonemes differently. Alright Lucca, she thought to herself, time to do some searching!

Her first inclination was to enter something like ‘overiding security protocol’, but she knew this would not work. First, she had no idea how future denizens would spell it, but more importantly security would hardly be secure if you could just instantly look up how to override it. She tried multiple variations of the idea anyway. Most of her entries turned back no results just as the first had. But on a few occasions the computer seemed to be able to guess what she was trying to say! Incredible! Unfortunately, what she found was either indecipherable or not specific enough to help her solve her problems.

She needed a simpler problem to work on. Something that was less technical. She typed in ‘time gate’ crossing her fingers.

Lucca was thrilled when the computer automatically corrected her entry to ‘tyme’. The search results were numerous, but she could not make sense of most of it. So much for less technical. The most frustrating thing was Lucca was certain she would have been able to understand it had it been in her own version of the language.

She tried a different search: tyme anomalies. And another huge list of results came up. Lucca felt overwhelmed by all the information. This computer was amazing! She could rifle through security or personnel files! She could bring up maps of various locations with complete environmental condition readouts. She could apparently also look up conditions at any location, during specific times, for the last 50 years!

That gave her an idea. Maybe, if she could figure out where they gated in…

“Lucca!” Marle exclaimed strolling in with Crono in tow, “I think we found what you need!” She was waving a soiled piece of paper. Lucca took it from her and her grinned. Going back to the security files she entered in the three passwords.

“Bingo!” Lucca shouted. And then it was simple to switch the droids’ program from “cerche and dysstrye” to “idel”. Lucca really wanted to create an interactive interface if she ever got back home.

“I think I can find the information we need to find another gate. If there is one anyway,” Lucca informed her companions.

“There has to be another one,” Crono said. “There’s at least two just in Truce in our time. There has to be more here as well.”

“Crono, that’s not a valid assumption. We know nothing about how time travel works or how gates form. For all we know, there might be something in Truce that makes it easier for the gates to be stable.”

“There has to be another gate,” Crono insisted.

“Well, like I said, if it’s there, I think we can find it. I want you to start looking through these maps. Try to figure out where we gated in. If we can figure that out we can compare the conditions with other locations on the planet and see if we can find similar conditions.”

“Wait a minute,” Marle interrupted, “This is going to take awhile right?”

Lucca nodded, “Probably.”

“Well, now that the security robots have been shut down we should head back up with that box of supplies. See if we can’t get these people to start planting those seeds while there’s still daylight.”

“What?” Lucca asked.

“We found a huge store of seeds,” Crono explained. “You’re right Marle. Let’s do that first. Then, we’ll come back here and find a time gate!”

…

Doan sat slumped against the wall staring at the ladder that led to the facility below. It felt like an eternity had passed. He knew the teenagers had been gone too long. He knew what that meant. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. What was the point?

He heard a thud. He jumped to his feet and peered down the shaft. Doan felt his stomach drop at the sight. All members of the strange trio were perfectly fine. They had a supply case with them and seemed to be discussing how to get it up the ladder. Doan barked a short laugh and all three immediately looked up and smiled. He was smiling too, he realized in shock. It felt good.

He shook himself into motion to the platform elevator adjacent to the ladder and threw the switch. The platform immediately descended. Before any time had passed the three adventurers and a supply case were back up on ground level.

Without thought, he surged forward and grabbed the closer girl - the purple haired one - in a tight embrace. She squeaked in surprise.

“We’re saved,” he breathed with tears of relief.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder. And he released his prisoner to face the red headed youth who held out his hand in greeting. Doan grasped it immediately.

“Nome?” the youth asked him. Doan blinked in surprise.

“Pardon?”

“Eem Crono,” the youth pointed to himself with his free hand. “Marle, Lucca,” he said indicating each companion in turn. “Yo?”

“Me? I’m Doan.”

“Doan,” Crono repeated.

“Thank you,” Doan said sincerely indicating the box and moved toward the supplies. All three of the youths blocked his path. He jumped in surprise. They couldn’t possibly want to keep the food for just themselves could they? The three of them seemed too open and friendly for that. The blond, the girl named Marle, handed him a small clear package. He looked at it in confusion then read the label. Seeds?

Doan looked back up to the three with wide eyes. He understood. This was it. Nothing else had survived. That couldn’t be. There was supposed to be at least another three years worth of food for a fully populated dome. And the current population was nowhere near what the dome was designed to support. The inventory manifest said three years. He moved forward again and this time they moved out of his way immediately. He dove into the supply case to discover what was there.

Seeds! And more seeds, some rations - enough to supplement the scavenging they had been doing - dehydrated fluids that might come in handy for his daughter’s new baby, first aid kits, and endless amounts of seeds. Doan shook his head in disbelief. What needed to be done to plant seeds? He thought back to lessons learned from the crazy old man. Lessons he never thought he would ever have use for.

The plants would have to be grown outside the dome. The glass greenhouses had long ago been buried in ash and black dust. Maybe they should try to clean them. It would be better if they could be growing the fruits and vegetables year round. The saplings would probably not survive the coming frost. And they would need to set up a guard to keep the rats and other pests away from the growing harvest.

Doan set off to make the arrangements. They might have the first fresh vegetables in just under twelve weeks!

…

Crono tapped a button to bring up yet another map. He had started simply by looking for a dome – specifically the dome where they had gated in, but had soon discovered that this era had more than a few dome structures. And there didn’t seem to be anything particularly unique about any of them. So now he sought a dome that was near some laboratory and then hopefully another larger dome.

Staring at the green representations of the world from three hundred plus years ago, Crono wondered – not for the first time – what had caused the current desolation. It just seemed that these people had so many devices and contraptions – they should have been able to handle just about anything.

“That is ridiculous!” Lucca shouted from a different console.

“I’m telling you, that’s what it says,” Marle insisted.

“Maybe you guys should take a break,” Crono suggested mildly to the two girls. Their constant bickering was started to wear on him. And staring at these maps was burning holes into his eyes, he was certain. To his relief, they both agreed without argument.

“That’s probably a good idea. I want to check on Sura anyway,” Marle said. And she started back up the tunnel. Lucca approached him and his screen of endless data instead.

“Find anything?” Lucca asked.

“I would have told you the minute I had,” Crono told her trying really hard to keep the irritation from his voice as he continued to scroll down the visual sensor readings. “It’s hard to use maps that are three hundred years old. All the landmarks have changed. You sure finding this location will help us?”

“Yes!” Lucca snapped back. “I am sure! You can’t just type in “Gates” or “Time Warp” into the search box! When I ran a search for anomalies in general, I got so much I would never be able to sift through it all! I have no idea how time rifts might be detected. We need the data from our point of entry to see if we can anything strange so we can find similar readings elsewhere. But there is no guarantee. I have told you both that there may not be another gate! Or maybe-

“Lucca,” he tried to interrupt.

“-Because a second gate has never been opened, or not recently opened anyway, that the anomalies just aren’t enough to register on this things’ sensors and we will never find it! But you, Crono, insisted there must be another gate! Just because there was more than one in our own time period.”

“Lucca!”

“There must be another way to look for it! And I, in a moment of brilliance, figured out exactly how to do just that. And now you-”

“LUCCA!” Crono shouted finally turning away from his screen to catch her full attention.

“What?!”

“Will you calm down? I’m sorry, okay? I’m hungry and tired and I just want to go home. I didn’t mean to take it out on you,” Crono said. Lucca let out a huge sigh and was silent. Crono knew this meant she was trying to form some words that were reasoned instead of angry so he just waited.

“Crono, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I guess I’m cranky too. Marle has been pushing my buttons all day. I can’t read all the information by myself. She’s better at figuring out what it says than I am. But she dislikes the technical stuff and she doesn’t always stop and explain it to me. She’ll just read it herself and then start pushing buttons. She keeps trying to figure out what happened to create this future.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Crono asked.

“Yes! First off, we have a very immediate problem to solve and that’s getting home! We don’t have enough food and resources to stay here indefinitely to do research. We need to find a new gate or go back to the old one to go to a time where we can survive. But more importantly, knowledge of our future is probably not a good thing. We could really mess up our time line, or possibly our entire universe, if we created a time paradox.”

“Well, you don’t have to convince me. You’re the closest thing we have to an expert on time travel,” Crono grinned as he stood up. “Come on, let’s see if there’s any food left.” They needed a break.

…

The door swooshed open automatically as Marle approached Sura’s domicile.

“Marlie!” Mai shouted and immediately latched onto the princess’s legs as she entered the small room.

“Hi there!” Marle exclaimed laughing. Mai babbled excitedly at her in response. Sura sat up and smiled at her daughter’s behavior. Marle approached the pregnant woman with Mai in tow. And placed her hand on the Sura’s forehead. The woman actually looked a lot better and seemed much more alert. Marle started channeling additional energy into her anyway. Being careful to go slowly so she didn’t collapse in exhaustion again.

“Marlie,” Mai whined as she attempted to drag the princess to the console. “Spell tyme!”

“Mai, I can’t read this very well,” Marle protested when the girl booted the system up. The girl pulled up a story that Marle knew, about a princess and a frog. She smiled at the subject matter. And suddenly Mai was reading the story to her. She either knew how to read or she had this one memorized. Marle smiled fondly. She had done the same as a child.

Mai was very animated in her storytelling. Gian must have liked to add embellishments because the girl was acting out most of the characters’ actions. It also made it much easier for Marle to understand the girl. She forced herself to play closer attention. She was determined to master this language shift. The vowels seemed to have shifted more to the back of the mouth. Soon Marle forgot her linguistic meanderings as she got caught up in Mai’s storytelling because as soon as Mai had finished “The Princess and the Frog” she moved onto another story that Marle quickly recognized as “Cinderella”.

“Having fun?”

Marle jumped at Crono’s question. She had not heard her friends come in at all.

“Cro! Luka!” Mai greeted, her story forgotten. Lucca gave the girl a hug and Crono began immediately having a conversation with Sura using their own personal sign language.

“You hungry?” Marle asked Lucca, hoping to make peace with her new friend.
“Sure,” Lucca said without making eye contact. Marle sighed and then proceeded to pull out their diminishing food supply.

“We have enough for tomorrow, but after that…” Marle shrugged.

“We’ll have to ration it. Only one strip each per meal,” Crono suggested over his shoulder. Lucca nodded in agreement. Marle sighed again. That meant she was never really going to stop being hungry.

“All right, but next time we decide to go through a gate let’s be sure to pack more in the way of foodstuffs!” Marle handed a strip to each of her friends.

“You’ll get no argument from me,” Crono chimed in taking a huge bite out of his piece. Marle then handed one to Sura.

“Theenk yo,” she said softly. Marle nodded in acknowledgement.

“Mai, come here and sit down,” Marle patted the seat next to the girl’s mother. Mai immediately jumped onto the bench and sat down.

“Don’t give her as much,” Lucca warned.

“Why not? She seems like she needs some nourishment. There’s no need to be stingy,” Marle said trying to keep her voice neutral as she gave Mai only half of a piece.

“I am not being stingy,” Lucca objected angrily. “It’s not a good thing to give a starving system too much food. It doesn’t remember how to process things! Maybe you would know that if you didn’t have such a pampered existence.”

“Lucca, that’s hardly fair,” Crono scolded.

“Yeah sure. Take her side,” Lucca said angrily.

“I’m sorry,” Marle managed, her throat suddenly constricted.

“Let’s just calm down” Crono said tightly.

They continued to eat in strained silence. Mai soon fallen asleep in her mother’s arms. Marle tried to take as small of bites as possible to make the food last longer. Lucca seemed to be doing the same. Crono had long since finished and was talking to Sura again. But the conversation was not as animated as before. Sura seemed to be nodding off as well.

“Marle look,” Lucca said softly as she finished her last bit of jerky, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap and I didn’t mean to seem unappreciative of your help earlier. It’s just so much of this is beyond me. I’m just not used to that and I took out my frustrations on you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay Lucca. I was tired and impatient as well. I think we just needed to take a break a little sooner,” Marle said calmly, forcing herself to smile.

“Well then, it sounds like it is time for some sleep,” Crono said obviously setting himself up a little fort in the corner. Marle grinned watching him get comfortable.

“Sleep is such as waste of valuable time,” Lucca sighed.

“You always say that,” Crono grinned, tossing her a pillow, “but I have learned from experience that even genius brains like yours, need sleep to function.”

“Well, if time is what you’re worried about, why don’t we just use the magic sleeping machine?” Marle suggested pointing back to the wall. Her two companions stared at her.

“What?” She asked, embarrassed at the rapt attention.

“That’s brilliant!” Lucca said, “But magic sleeping machine? That’s a terribly inaccurate name. It must have something better. I wonder how it actually works,” Lucca quickly deteriorated into mumbling as she approached the device on the far wall. Crono continued to stare at her.

“Do you think it’s safe?” Crono finally asked, obviously nervous. Marle grinned.

“So, let me get this straight. You have no problem at all jumping into blue portals, facing mechanical dragons or the unknown dangers below, but you’re afraid of stepping into this machine whose purpose seems to be rejuvenation?” She asked him in mock astonishment.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he admitted.

“You were willing to test drive Lucca’s telepod,” she countered.

“Lucca made it,” he said, as if that explained everything. “It looks like a coffin,” he added softly.

“Well, it worked wonders on me,” Marle said offering him a hand to aid him to his feet.

“Come on! It’ll be fine.”

“All right. I trust you,” Crono said, walking towards Lucca. Marle stopped.

“Do you?” She asked him seriously.

He turned back to her.

“Do I what?” he asked.

“Trust me?”

“Well, sure. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Its just, we’ve really only known each other for a few days,” Marle said in disbelief.

“Eight.”

“Eight what?”

“We’ve known each other for eight days,” he was smiling and looking straight into her eyes.

She broke the eye contact, suddenly self-conscious. Her hands had never seemed to be so fascinating.

“Is that all? How can you trust someone that you’ve only known for a week?” Marle argued. She hoped he saw no merit in her statement.

“I don’t know. With everything that’s happened it feels longer. Don’t you trust me?” he asked. And she looked up at his bright blue eyes again. His forehead crinkled in worry. He cared what she thought!

“Of course,” she smiled shyly. Crono grinned back.

“If you two are finished whispering secrets back and forth, I would really like to get some work done,” Lucca said sharply indicating the open cavity.

“Did you already use it?” Crono asked startled.

“Yup! And I feel like I could tackle a rhino!” She exclaimed brightly.

“Lucca! Shh!” Marle whispered urgently pointing to their sleeping hosts.

“Sorry,” Lucca said much more softly. “Crono! Stop being a scaredy cat and get in the damn magic sleeping machine!” she hissed.

“I thought you didn’t like that name,” Marle said.

“I don’t, but I haven’t come up with anything better yet,” She replied absently. “Crono!” She pointed to the cavity, “In! Now!”

“Fine. Fine. I’m going. Calm down,” Crono hesitantly moved into the open space in the wall and the door immediately swooshed closed. It was kind of creepy Marle admitted. But before any time had passed, it opened back up. Crono leapt out immediately eying the device suspiciously.

“How do you feel?” Marle asked him.

“Great!” he replied smiling. Then he frowned. “Still hungry though.”

“Well, it is a sleeping device – not a feeding machine,” Lucca said in exasperation, “It’s your turn princess.”

“Right,” and she stepped into the machine voluntarily, trying not to think about the last time she had volunteered herself to test unknown technology. The doors closed over her and she held her breadth and shut her eyes. In mere seconds it was over. She stepped out in a daze. Her eye-strain and mild headache were gone. She felt completely energized. But Crono was right, she suddenly felt very aware that she was still hungry. It was the same as the first time.

“Everyone refreshed?” Lucca asked. Marle nodded.

“Okay then,” Crono said “Let’s go figure out how to get home,” He lead the way.

…

Lucca tapped the button to bring up the next screen of data. The numbers were endless. She was looking for anything abnormal that stood out. She was in over her head. How could she find anomalies if she didn’t even understand what all these godforsaken endless numbers even represented. What was a meson? Or a neutryno?

She had tried to look up these unfamiliar terms, but without Marle’s help deciphering the explanations became unbearably slow. And the princess was now completely absorbed in her own research project. She had stopped offering help hours ago and Lucca was definitely not going to admit that she needed the aid.

So Lucca tried to use more of the pictures as an explanation. Some of them seemed familiar at times and others completely alien. But in any case, the pictures were no substitute for a long detailed explanation. It was so frustrating not to understand something. She always understood pretty much everything. Intellectually, she understood that thirteen hundred years had gone by and it only made sense that the world’s understanding of the universe would progress beyond her own. But feeling completely lost was not a familiar feeling for Lucca. It was definitely not a feeling she enjoyed.

Meanwhile, Marle seemed to have no trouble at all in figuring out whatever it was that she was reading. Lucca knew this all too well because Marle kept summarizing her findings to them. No matter how many times Lucca told the girl she just did not care!

“It seems the people during this time were facing some kind of energy crisis. They were running out of oil,” Marle explained.

“How in hell is that possible?” Lucca said in spite of her internal vow to ignore the girl’s pronouncements. It wasn’t good to know the future. It just wasn’t. “Do you know how much oil there is on this planet? How much we’d have to use before it would start to become scarce?”

Marle just shrugged in response. When the princess made no more comments, Lucca turned back to her own terminal. And her stomach started growling. Just great. And the next meal, if one could call it that, would not be forthcoming for another few hours. Agreeing to ration everything meant Lucca would be hungry a lot over the next few days. She turned back to the incomprehensible data. If she could focus, perhaps she would forget that she was hungry. Happened at home all the time when she was working on a project without even trying!

“They found another energy source in the center of the earth and they tried to drill down into it,” Marle explained.

“Will you stop trying to decipher all that history?!” Lucca exclaimed in frustration. “It’s not a good thing to know the future! If we know too much about the future and we use that knowledge in the present we might really mess up our timeline.”

“Mess up the timeline? Take a look around?! Is this a future you want to preserve? How can knowledge of the future mess it up more than it already is?!” Marle demanded.

Lucca froze. She hadn’t really thought of it that way. This future was a pretty horrible one. But then, for all she knew about time travel they might try to make things better and create the very future they were trying to avoid. Or worse, destroy space-time fabric and all times would cease to exist.

And yet, they had already changed the past… when they saved Queen Leene, and by extension, Marle. The universe was still here. True, the alterations had been minor. But maybe this was evidence that time was in fact fluid. That there didn’t have to be one outcome. That you didn’t have to worry about creating a time paradox. Maybe they could create whatever future they dared dream up. They might make it worse. But they could try. And hey, maybe if they did make it worse they could go back and try again. That is, if they didn’t get themselves killed in the process.

“Maybe you’re right Marle.” Lucca said seriously, “Maybe things can’t get any worse than they already are.”

“I am?” Marle said, clearly taken aback. “You agree with me?”

“Lucca! I think I found something!” Crono shouted. Lucca leaped to her feet and over to his console. Crono pointed to the map, “See, this is a laboratory. It was called Lab 16 and over to the west of it was a structure called Bangor Dome. I think that’s where we gated in.”

“What are the coordinates?”

“Latitude fourteen point six North. Longitude fifty six point eight nine West.”

Lucca ran back to her terminal and typed in the coordinates. The current conditions of Bangor Dome came up immediately, but what she really needed was the conditions of the dome at the point of time they had arrived. It was late morning, two days ago? Only two? Felt like a week! She entered in the date and started glancing through the data looking for any sudden, short changes in any of the variables. She wondered if the computer had any kind of algorithm to detect statistically significant variances. It probably did – she just didn’t know how to prompt it. She sighed and kept looking through the data manually.

After what seemed liked hours, there was no evidence that Lucca had ever been excited about a breakthrough. In fact, she was certain she had that glazed over look she had seen in many of her classes when students were pretending to pay attention. Then to make matters worse her abdomen rumbled indignantly.

“Quiet you,” she mumbled softly to her stomach. She hit a key to scroll down to the next data set. She glossed through most of it. The temperature was slightly increasing while humidity was constant. That was to be expected as the day progressed. Radiation and neutrino levels didn’t change either. Tachyonic feld emyssions? What was that even referring to? And what was baryonic matter? She pressed these questions aside. It didn’t matter. She was just looking for changes.

She hit the key again to only find more of the same. And even more of the same. Wait! At 1:12:37 pm there was a sudden presence of a small number of exotic particles and those mysterious tachyonic feld emyssions doubled! Not that either of these numbers was extremely large. Doubling nothing was still nothing. It could be a fluke. But it was worth a shot.

So she ran a search for the same conditions in the Bangor Dome. She had to wait a few moments. Apparently there was a lot of data to comb through even for a computer. The results brought up a dozen instances over the last fifty years of the exact same conditions. That was interesting. She had never thought they could be exact. So she expanded the search to any location. Now this search was going to take forever! So she leaned back in her chair to wait. She never had been very patient.

Her stomach rumbled again. Lucca sighed. She glanced over to Crono and Marle who had their heads together at another console. She thought about joining them for a second, but then thought better of it. She really did not particularly want to interact with the princess at the moment. So she settled for pacing back and forth instead, trying to ignore how hungry she was. The screen flashed – its search complete, finally!

The results displayed two locations: Proto Dome and a place called Death Peak. She was starting to get excited again. She opened both files side by side with Bangor Dome so she could compare them. Death Peak wasn’t the same – it had constant high levels of fluctuating tachyonic fields with a word next to it – “temporel wrengdhes”. Well, that was a word Lucca needed to look up.

wrengdhe – n. chaunges or schifts

Lucca almost leaped out of her seat in excitement. Tachyonic fields were an indication of temporal changes or distortions!

“Guys! I think I found something!” She didn’t wait for them to respond. She pulled her attention to the other file. Proto Dome was a perfect match! The numbers were almost exactly the same as Bangor Dome’s. She was certain there had to be another gate there.

“Crono! Marle! Come here! I found it. I found another gate!” She started pulling up the maps they would need to plan their journey. Hopefully it would be short. Neither of her companions responded.

“Crono?” Lucca called suddenly concerned. She turned towards her companions. Crono was standing behind Marle. His hands on her shoulder as if he was trying to reassure her. “Crono? Marle? What’s wrong?” she asked as she approached.

Crono didn’t speak. He merely moved away to make room for Lucca. Marle looked as if she had been crying.

“Show her,” he said softly. Lucca turned toward the screen not knowing what to expect.

She watched as the beautiful green world, filled with amazing technological wonders, tore open to reveal a colossal creature covered in terrifying spikes. She watched as this monster sent out waves and waves of destruction that destroyed cities and broke apart continents. The visual record then just ended in buzzing static.

The static continued. No one moved. No one spoke. The whole world had just ended in a matter of minutes!

“I refuse to believe it,” Marle said softly, “This can’t be the way the world ends.”

“Marle, we’ve already seen the aftermath,” Crono responded.

“We will have to change it then,” Marle countered.

“You’re serious aren’t you?” Lucca asked. Marle nodded. “You want to take on that!” Lucca pointed to the creature on screen. It was the size of a small continent. Marle nodded again never taking her eyes of the creature. Lucca wanted to object, but she had nothing to object to. She had already conceded this argument.

“You know what? You’re just as insane as he is,” Lucca smiled as she jerked her thumb toward Crono.

“You’re in?” Marle asked in surprise. Lucca nodded.

“Let’s get to it then!” Crono said, “Lucca, you said you had found another gate?” She nodded confirmation again. “Great! Figure out where it is and how to get there.”

“Way ahead of you as usual!” Lucca said moving back to the other side of the room to her display. “It’s east of here. In the Proto Dome I believe,” She looked at the map and groaned. “It’s going to take us days to get there on foot.”

“Marle, see if you can find some references to what that monster was. We’ll look it up in our own time and see if we can’t figure out when this problem started,” Crono directed.

“You’re assuming the gate will take us to our own time!” Lucca chided.

“Any time period with food is better than this one!” Crono argued.

“Even ones where you’re wanted for execution?” Marle teased.

“You have to get caught to be executed,” Crono insisted.

“I think I have something. The monster was called Lavos,” Marle said.

“All right. Let’s go back upstairs and see if anyone knows any shortcuts to this Proto Dome,” Crono lead the way from the information consoles.

Lucca followed with a new spring in her step. Maybe the world didn’t have to end.

…

Marle hugged Sura carefully. She used the physical contact to continue channeling extra aural energy to the pregnant woman, figuring Sura needed it more than Marle, herself did. It seemed to be making a difference. Sura was on her feet! She moved around the domicile with energy, though her great girth did make for an awkward gait. Marle then pulled away to begin to gather her things. Sura started chattering, but she spoke too quickly for Marle to make out a single word. But she sounded happy, even excited. Marle was careful to keep her back to her hostess, less the woman catch her tearing up.

Marle suddenly didn’t want to leave. She felt it almost as a betrayal. She knew it was unwise to linger. If they stayed too long they would just become part of the problem - extra mouths to feed. Extra burdens that couldn’t really offer any new help or support. If they left, maybe they could change things. Maybe if they left and survived, the future wouldn’t be so bleak. And yet, Sura and Mai, they needed someone now. How was it possible that she could care so much for a woman and child she had just met?

Sura continued to babble. Marle turned back to her – Sura had to know that she could not understand, so why did she speak? Looking her in the eyes, Marle understood. Sura was trying to keep back her own tears by keeping the atmosphere light. Marle managed to smile back.

Mai came running into the room with an excited smile and latched onto her mother’s leg. Sura ran her hand over her daughter’s hair affectionately. The girl jumped back from her mother as if burned.

“Moda!” she scolded in such disgust that Marle laughed. Her smile faded however, as she saw the reason for Mai’s violent reaction. There was a puddle of water on the floor surrounding Sura’s feet.

Marle dropped her bag. Her shock only lasted for an instant. She pushed Sura back down to the bed and tried to make the woman comfortable. She then ran to the corridor screaming for help. She hoped that these people had a midwife. She had only witnessed one pregnancy and she had not actually participated in the delivery herself.

Crono arrived almost immediately, followed quickly by the old man, Doan. Doan came quickly to his daughter’s side and started saying encouraging things that Marle couldn’t really make out.

“Crono, I need water, and clean cloths – bandages if you can find them, and a knife – the sharper the better.” Marle said trying to keep her voice even. He nodded and ran right back out.

And then a crowd started gathering. That would not do at all. Marle turned to the crowd and gently pushed and shooed the curious onlookers out of the room. No one came forward to help her – guess that meant there was no midwife. Marle sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Mai whimpered. Marle turned to her – startled. The princess had forgotten the child was there. She touched Doan gently on the shoulder. When he turned to her, she pointed with her chin toward the girl. The old man nodded grimly, then escorted the girl out of the room.

Just then Sura’s body writhed in a contraction. She screamed. Marle wished there was something she could do to relieve the young mother’s agony. But even healing would not take away the pain. Sura had a long battle ahead.

…

Hours later, and multiple contractions, the baby still had not come. Marle did not know how abnormal this was. She wringed her own hands. She hated just waiting. Crono had come back with the necessary supplies and was currently holding Sura’s hand through each painful contraction.

“Sura! You can do this!” Marle encouraged as another muscle spasm ran through Sura’s thin body. “You’re almost there! I can see the baby!” But there was a problem. The baby was not turned correctly. Instead of a baby’s head, Marle saw a baby’s rear, which meant the baby was folded. Marle’s stomach dropped painfully. She didn’t know how to ease the delivery of a breech.

“Sura, you need to push,” Marle directed, not completely certain the girl understood her. But if nothing else, the sound of her own voice helped Marle remain calm. Sura’s scrunched up face turned bright red with the effort. She screamed in agony.

“Yes, that’s it! Keep going,” Marle encouraged. Sooner than she expected, Marle was supporting the baby’s frighteningly purple posterior. She tried to gently pull the infant to ease it out. Sura’s screams jumped an octave and Marle immediately stopped.

“Sorry,” Marle said, “Keep pushing. We’re almost there.” The legs were coming. As soon as they were free, Marle pulled the legs back to more easily support the blood-streaked infant. Sura’s body tensed again and again with effort, but the baby stopped making progress. Marle could not reach the arms and she was getting concerned at how long the baby was going without air. She had one more idea, but she wasn’t sure if it was a good one.

“I’m sorry, this is probably going to hurt,” Marle warned. And just as another muscles contraction took place Marle pushed down on Sura’s abdomen. Sura screams intensified again. But it worked. The baby seemed to break lose from wherever it was caught and lurched forward. And after another contraction, Marle was holding the screaming newborn infant in her hands.

“It’s a girl!” Marle exclaimed in amazement. She placed the baby on a clean towel, pinched the umbilical chord tight as she remembered, before using the knife to cut through it.

She washed the blood off the newborn and wrapped her in clean swaddling and handed the screaming creature to its mother. Marle could not spare the infant another thought because the battle was not over. Sura was bleeding. The baby had probably blocked most of the blood before, but now the blood could flow freely. And the deep red tide showed no sign of ebbing.

She tried to block the oncoming flow with bandages, but Marle was dismayed at how quickly the white cloth turned red. She fought constantly to replace the red-soaked bandages. She used her ability to urge the torn tissue to knit back together while the new bandages were still adequate. But the tear was large and mostly internal where Marle could not get to it directly with her ability.

Deep inside, Marle knew Sura had no chance – she had lost too much blood. And Marle could not replace the lost life-blood no matter how much she healed the woman. The blood provided nutrients to the body’s limbs and organs that her healing could not replace. But she would not let herself think about it. She had to keep going. She could not give up.

“Marle, stop,” Crono gripped her shoulders firmly and pulled her away from the bloody futile battle, “Look,” and he urged her to Sura’s side.

The young mother was holding her pink and bruised baby daughter to her breast. She turned peaceful eyes to Marle.

“Theenk yo,” Sura said almost inaudibly with a small child. Marle whose throat constricted painfully, only managed a nod. Sura turned back to the tiny child smiled again more brightly and then her eyes fell closed. The baby continued to nurse.

Marle could not hold the tears any longer. The water poured unrestrained as silent wracking sobs overtook her body. Crono turned her around and pulled her into his shoulder despite the blood she was smearing all over his tunic and she cried even harder as he held her. The baby’s cries then joined her own and she had to turn back to the tragic scene. The baby had given up her latch on her mother. Marle just stood frozen in place staring at the wailing infant.

It was Crono who finally gently picked her up and held her out to Marle. She waved him away as she washed her hands. Only then did she take the baby hesitantly and hold her close rocking her a little. The infant immediately stopped crying and stared up at Marle with clear and alert brown eyes. Marle started crying again.

“I’m sorry little one,” she managed, “I’m sorry I couldn’t save her.”

“What will you name her?” Crono asked.

“Me? You think I should name her?” Marle asked, startled by the question.

“Well, who else? She probably wouldn’t be alive without all that healing you’ve been doing. Unless Sura said something?” Crono asked. Marle shook her head and began studying the little girl. Marle brushed away tears as she thought about it.

“I think we should name her Asha. It means hope,” Marle said, looking back at Crono for approval. He smiled and nodded.

“Asha is perfect.”

Chapter Text

Doan built a nest of blankets around his granddaughter. She did not resist, which was in itself a bad sign. She usually fought off bedtimes with every little ounce of her fiery temper. And when that didn’t work, she usually resorted to sweet talk or bribery.

Tonight Mai was silent. She just looked up at him with wide shining eyes. He could not meet her stare for more than a few seconds. He knew that his own eyes contained far too much reality. He didn’t want her to have to face the truth yet – maybe tomorrow, but not right at this moment. At this moment, he just wanted to comfort and protect her. So he stroked her back and caressed her hair. Eventually, her eyes closed and her breathing slowed.

Doan continued to lie beside his little girl. He watched her sleep – she looked peaceful, all traces of her fear gone while she dreamt. He knew that he should return to his own daughter. That she needed him now, but he didn’t think he could stand to watch his last daughter slip away. He was being terribly selfish.

He forced himself to his feet and headed out of his domicile toward Sura’s. The corridor was crowded with all the inhabitants of the Arris Dome. They just sat in scattered groups waiting to hear news. He avoided making eye contact with any of the others, unable to meet the sympathy and shared pain in their gazes. Thankfully, no one spoke to him.

Before any time had passed he faced her door and once again found himself frozen, just before the threshold. Doan’s throat constricted painfully. He couldn’t do it. He had already lost too much.

Someone gripped his shoulder in reassurance. He looked up to face the young woman, Marlene. She didn’t say anything, but she gave him a small understanding smile. It was all the encouragement he needed.

“Thank you,” he said gently and turned back to the door. Before he could activate the door handle, it swooshed open of its own accord.

A blood-streaked Marle stood on the other side. She held out an infant to him – a baby that was very much alive. Doan stared in astonishment. This was the first living child in six years. There had been three others since Mai that had been less fortunate.

“Asha,” the blond girl stated as she brought up Doan’s arms to hold the baby. He found himself smiling in amazement through his tears.

“Sura?” he asked, dreading the answer.

The blonde girl shook her head sadly. His eyes watered again instantly, but he had been expecting the news so he managed to mostly control his grief. He tried to focus on the baby girl - this Asha, this miracle. She needed him. He would grieve for his own daughter later.

He carried the baby out to the other residents. They gathered around babbling energetically to one another and congratulations to him. Their excitement was catching.

“Marlene,” Doan turned purposefully back to the dusty woman, “In the supplies that our guests brought up, there were some dehydrated fluids. Try to find a formula, but any protein supplement is better than nothing.” She nodded and ran off.

“Tavers!” Doan turned to another man, “I want you and your brothers to see if you can find some poly-plastic containers. Something we can drill holes into.”

“What for?” he asked.

“For planting seeds!” Doan exclaimed causing the sleeping Asha to burst into screaming sobs. Doan smiled.

“What a good set of lungs you have!” He cooed at her, “You will need those to survive here little one.”

“That, she will,” Tavers said as he left in search of containers.

Doan rocked the baby trying to sooth her. The people around him were still huddled close, but now they were interacting excitedly with each other – not just trying to reach the baby. Even the strange young trio that had brought hope back into their lives were huddled together discussing who knew what. He looked up toward them when he thought he heard one say “Proto Dome”. If they needed to get to Proto Dome, Doan would just maybe be able to repay some of their kindness.

“Doan? Here’s the mixture,” Marlene had returned with the protein concoction already prepared, “I think this one will be gentle enough for her to digest and there’s a lot of it down there so I think it will last for a long while if we reserve it for her alone.”

“Excellent,” Doan said. “Here, could you take her for a few minutes? Feed her and then try to get her to sleep.” She nodded and then turned a delighted smile to the still sobbing infant. Doan watched her go with his newest granddaughter for a moment then turned back to the strangers. Marle was crying and the redhead was comforting her so he approached Lucca instead.

“Proto Dome?” Doan repeated. The helmeted head swung up, clearly startled, and nodded in response.

He gestured for her to follow him back to his own domicile. He entered silently and put a finger to his lips as he pointed to the sleeping Mai, to indicate that Lucca should take the same care. He wanted the girl to sleep as long as possible – no reason to bring her the pain of loss any sooner than necessary.

He turned to the terminal in the corner and brought up a satellite view of the eastern half of the continent. And then pointed to a domed structure some six hundred miles east of here.

“Proto Dome,” he said. Lucca nodded. He moved his hand much farther West to another structure that was barely still standing, “Lab 32.” Again the girl nodded her understanding.

Then he pulled up another picture of himself from decades ago. He sat astride the jet bike lent to him by the crazy old man. He hadn’t thought of the old geezer in years and this was the second time in as many days.

…

The half-day hike to Lab 32 had done nothing to calm Doan’s temper. His legs and shoulders alike screamed in protest of the physical labor. This equipment was heavy! And he was not an anti-grav lift! What was it good for anyway? The world was long since dead and this would continue to be true no matter how much men like his uncle and Belthasar denied reality.

No, Doan knew that this trip was a complete waste of time and resources. And he would be subjected to another passionate lecture, and Doan didn’t care what the old man had to say! He had no interest in healing broken worlds. He was supposed to be spending the afternoon with Elin! His uncle had promised he would have the afternoon free! At least, he was finally here and didn’t have to haul this heavy equipment across a couple dozen miles of open plain on the way back.

Doan allowed the lab case to thud to the floor.

“Be careful with that boy!” Belthasar chided him from the other side of the research station, “That is sensitive equipment.”

“Now listen old man!” Doan began heatedly, “You didn’t just haul that scrap heap across 26 miles!”

“I think you’ll decide it was worth it.”

“I doubt it,” Doan said sullenly. The elder just smiled in a knowing way that irritated Doan immensely.

“Come, you’ve brought the last pieces. Bring them with you and let me show you what they are for,” he gestured for Doan to follow him. Doan reluctantly complied.

The garage was filled with all sorts of contraptions, but Doan’s attention was completely centered on the blue and gold vehicle that Belthasar was installing parts to.

“What is it?” Doan asked.

“It’s a jet bike!”

“How is that possible? The jet-bikes haven’t worked in generations. We don’t have any fuel to power them.”

“I modified it,” Belthasar explained calmly. Doan snorted.

“It will be finished tonight. I was hoping I could ask for one more favor from you.”

“What would that be?” Doan asked noncommittally.

“I need you to go out and collect rock and soil samples. I would like to test them. The more you can gather and from more locations and the more spread out, the better information I can get from the results.” And the old man unrolled a map – a map on paper no less! He pointed out his targeted locations to the young man.

“These are too far! I’ll probably die of exposure before I make it to two of these, Doan objected.

“I wasn’t going to make you walk boy!” Belthasar scolded and tossed him a medallion. Doan looked at it puzzled.

“That is what the bike is for. Do this for me and I will share what I learn with you.

“What’s there to learn from soil?! It’s dead!”

“No, it isn’t. It’s just poisoned. If we learn what’s wrong maybe we can do something about it and we can grow food again.”

“You’re going to cure the whole world?” Doan replied skeptically.

“Don’t need to cure the whole world. Just enough to grow food on.”

“I actually agree with my father on something. You are crazy.”

“Tell you what. Go and get me those samples, come around once a week for lessons just to humor a vain old man that wants his knowledge preserved, and you can keep the jet bike.”

“Truly?”

“Truly!”

“You have yourself a deal! Where would you like me to go first?”

…

Doan was suddenly struck by how lucky his friendship with Belthasar had been. Not only had that bike let him escape with the love of his life whenever the dome became too restrictive – the knowledge he had learned might very well save their lives today. He had always assumed that learning the life cycle of various plants would be completely useless – even a few days ago he would have made the same assessment. But now, he knew which vegetables would harvest the soonest and which ones would come back every season, and which ones were a longer time investment. He stared at the picture of him and Elin sitting on the bike. In this moment, he was immensely grateful to both his uncle and the old man in a way he hadn’t really ever been before.

“Jet bike,” he pointed to the bike in the picture and then back to Lab 32 on the map. She nodded again. She understood – the bike was in the lab. Doan opened a drawer and pulled out the medallion. He held it up and pointed one more time to the bike. This was the key to make the bike work. And he handed it to her. She grinned.

“Theenk yo,” she said as she took his offering.

“Thank you,” Doan insisted, “and good luck!”

“Momma?” Mai was sitting up in her bed. Doan moved to sit beside her stroking her hair.

“Mai, your mother is…” he paused uncertain as to how to explain. “Your mother is not coming back.” Doan found his own tears finally escaping.

“No!” the girl objected. She leapt from the bed and ran out of the room.

Doan then turned back to Lucca. He gripped her hand once more hoping she understood all his appreciation.

“Good luck,” he said again through his tears. She smiled. And then he turned to search for his first granddaughter.

“Mai!” Doan called. He found her sitting against the wall outside of her own quarters with her knees held to her chest. He sat down beside the forlorn child not saying a word. He put an arm around her and brought her close, but she pulled away.

“Mai, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but it will be okay. Things are going to get better,” Doan tried to reassure her. The girl continued to stare resolutely into dead space.

Doan continued to sit with her saying nothing. He understood that the loss had finally caught up to her. She needed to grieve, but she could not. The loss of her mother was too much – everything felt pointless. Doan understood, because he had been there just yesterday. The world had lost its color for Mai, but Doan would help her to find it again. There was always reason to hope.

…

“Well ladies, shall we be off to save the world?” Crono asked, eager to get moving. As long as he was doing something, maybe he wouldn’t be quite so aware of how hungry he was. He knew they had exactly one meal left so the sooner they got to Proto Dome and out of this time period the better!

“Who are we kidding?” Lucca said sarcastically. “We can’t even keep ourselves fed!”

“Don’t be so pessimistic Lucca!” Marle chided. “Anything is possible if you’re determined.”

“I’m not being pessimistic,” Lucca objected. “It’s realistic. You know I’m with you guys ‘til the end, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re trying to accomplish an impossible task with no resources.”

“So it’s business as usual then?” Crono threw in amicably. Lucca and Marle both laughed.

Their laughter quickly faded once the trio left the dome, exposing themselves to the harsh sunlight that barely broke through the ash that seemed to continually fall from the sky. Visibility was much worse today, than it had been when they arrived.

“Which way?” Marle asked. Crono turned to Lucca who was digging through her bag. She pulled out a magnetic compass. He smiled with pride – Lucca was always ready for just about anything. If they did manage to save the world, it would be because of her despite all of her nay saying.

“We need to head east to Lab 32. It’s about twenty miles away. But there’s a vehicle there that should make the rest of the journey to Proto Dome a lot faster.”

“Lead the way,” Crono said always trusting Lucca’s navigation abilities more than his own.

…

Belthasar glared at the four-vector matrix that represented a massive object traveling at relativistic speeds. There was no way for mass to break the light-speed barrier. So he needed to convert the mass into energy and back again – into dark energy preferably, because dark energy already had a tendency to move faster than light and therefore backwards through time. He had thought he had already solved this problem, but his proto-type had only been able to detect and collect the required tachyons. It could not manipulate them into the stable reaction that he needed to create a temporal flux.

Belthasar reviewed the differential equation again. He had been on to something he was certain. He scribbled out some calculations, the same calculations he had completed time and again. As always, the math checked out. So why didn’t the contraption work? The old man let out a wheezing sigh. Maybe Mel had been right. Maybe he was dreaming and it simply wasn’t possible. He pushed the work away from him in frustration.

He forced himself to stand and begin the arduous journey across the hall. Such a feat took far too much effort these days. His slow paces were punctuated by the occasional violent cough. The burning sensation in lungs and throat never left him anymore, but he had become accustomed to the pain of breathing ash.

Maybe that was the problem. As much as he hated this world he had grown accustomed to it. He sat down to eat the already prepared meal and took a sip of piping hot tea – where did that wonderful blue creature find herbs to make such a flavorful tea?! He continued to eat through the bland, but edible food, while still re-working the problem in his head. And then he dropped his spoon in as an idea occurred to him.

He bolted out of his chair and charged back into his workshop. He immediately regretted the burst of movement as he was overcome with a violent coughing fit and slight chest pains, but it didn’t matter if he could get back to work.

He realized that his problem was that he had been thinking about the process of moving from time to time in the wrong way. It wasn’t a journey from one location to another – it was more of an inter-dimensional jump. This new approach would change the equation drastically. He plugged his four-vector into the new equation and worked out the new calculation. The result was beautifully simple! Relatively speaking anyway. He didn’t need to change the mass into energy. He needed to put a shield around the entire vehicle and then take it outside of real space-time!

You told me I was dreaming Mel. But I did it! I actually did it. After thirty years of trying, Belthasar could go home! He reached for the extra parchments to draw out the necessary plans. And another coughing fit overtook him. He moved his hand to his mouth as a particular violent cough sent convulsions down his torso. When he pulled his hand away and it was wet with blood. Never a good sign.

He laughed bitterly, which turned into more coughing and he fell from his chair clutching his throat and chest in pain, his vision swam around him. He had finally figured it out and he was going to die before he ever saw his home again. And he hadn’t even managed to write down the solution for the Nu. No one would even benefit from his research. It wasn’t fair. But life rarely was, at least not in Belthasar’s experience.

…

Belthasar came to in the arms of a beautiful young woman. A sparkling sea green pendant dangled from her neck.

“Schala?” Belthasar whispered in shock, trying unsuccessfully to bring the girl’s face into focus. Now he was certain he was dead, “Is that you?”

“Easy old man. Try to stay still,” she urged gently. She seemed to glow. Suddenly his breathing became easier. “You need to rest. Lucca, do you have any of those tonics left? I think I need a supplement.” She was speaking to someone behind him.

“Do you just want one?” another girl asked.

“Oh Schala,” he brought up a hand to cup her face. “I have missed you so,”

“Here, drink this. It may be a little bitter,” she directed. Belthasar thought it strange that he would still have to suffer through healing potions in the afterlife, but he swallowed cooperatively anyway. The world stopped spinning, but it still refused to come into focus. It was much darker than Belthasar thought it should be. Dark and dusty.

“Did you see the Blackbird, Schala? Or the Ocean Palace? I designed and built them both,” he reminisced.

“The Blackbird?” she repeated absently. “Does it fly?”

“Yes, it soars high above the clouds,” tears suddenly threatened to overflow as he remembered the beautiful kingdom that was once his home. The Blackbird allowed him to see the beauty of the entire continent all at once.

“Marle, can you understand him?” another unknown voice questioned her.

“Yes. Can you not?” she asked surprised. “He’s speaking the common tongue,” she added.

“Marle, I have no idea what he’s saying, but it’s not common tongue,” the boy insisted. The boy didn’t know about the link? Strange. Even the earthbound could link. He was about to say as much, but he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

…

“Is he…?” Lucca questioned.

“No,” Marle replied adjusting the man on the pallet trying to make him more comfortable, “He’s just asleep, though I don’t know how much longer he’ll last. He’s in pretty rough shape.”

“How did you understand him?” Crono asked again.

“How did you not? I swear he was speaking Guardian common. You really couldn’t understand him?” Both her companions shook their heads. She shrugged. “I have no idea then. I just did.” Marle turned her attention back to the ailing old man wondering if she dared to give him another dose of aural healing.

“Marle, we can’t stay here,” Crono said gently. “We have to keep going.”

Marle knew that he was right. And if she wasn’t going to stay for Mai or Asha, she certainly wasn’t going to stay for this old man who had obviously lived a long life. But it seemed unfair that she be faced with such a situation again so soon. Knowing what she had to do didn’t make doing it any less painful.

“Yes, I am aware. But why don’t I stay here and do what I can, while you two find this jet vehicle thing. Just come right back and get me once we’re ready to go.”

“Why don’t we just rest here?” Lucca offered. “According to the maps Doan showed me, this is the last time we’ll have shelter. And we’ve traveled well into the afternoon. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. Let’s find the bike. But we should stay here the night.

“Sounds fine to me,” Crono agreed shrugging his indifference.

“So do what you can Marle,” Lucca suggested. “You’ll get to sleep off the exhaustion.” She hesitated and then went over to her pack and pulled out another vial. She handed it to Marle.

“Take this.”

“I don’t think another one would do him much good just yet,” Marle objected. “We should save them.”

“No, this is a little different and it’s for you.” Lucca insisted. “You’ve been trying to do too much. It’s an ether. I take these when I get really into a project and want to keep working. It’s like instant adrenaline. You can’t take too many of them or you’ll get addicted, but they’ll keep you awake for awhile. Take it after you’ve finished your healing.”

“Thank you Lucca,” Marle said sincerely.

“We’ll be back in a bit. I don’t think this bike will take long to find,” Crono added.

…

Lucca and Crono had been through the entire complex, or what was left of it. There seemed to be in the center of the facility where the walls and ceilings were still intact. The labs on the outer parts were partially or completely exposed to the elements. They hadn’t found anything. Or rather, they had found a lot! Broken equipment, cooking utensils, mysterious contraptions and devices that Lucca could not identify, wires and tools, beakers and chemicals, microscopes. But in all of that, they couldn’t find the bike.

They had encountered one door that was sealed off. Just like the one they had found when they first arrived in this forsaken future. Lucca paced back and forth her hands balled into fists glaring at the golden crest on the door.

“What if it’s behind this blasted door?! What if it isn’t here anymore at all?!” she screeched. “We have to go 600 miles! Assuming we could make about 25 miles a day, which as we start to literally starve will get tough.”

“Lucca,” Crono tried to interrupt.

“That means it takes four days to go a hundred miles. And we have to go six hundred. That’s 24 days of non-stop travel. With no food and little water – we won’t make it! We’re better off going back to Bangor Dome and trying to go back to Guardia forest.

“Lucca!”

“But then, what if the guards are still there searching for you? Or all of us, for that matter. I guess we’re all criminals now. We’re screwed!”

“Lucca!” this time he had a hand on her shoulder.

“What?!” she demanded, whirling around to face him.

“Stop panicking,” he said firmly. “It only makes things worse.”

Lucca burst into tears and Crono had his arms around her within seconds.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed harder into his chest. “I’ve just never been so terrified.”

“It’s okay. You and I, we’ll figure things out – we always do,” he said more softly rubbing her back as he held her.

“I mean come on, you broke me out of prison a few days ago!” he added after a few minutes. “And a few days before that we successfully infiltrated a secret Mystic compound. And that’s just in the last week alone!” She was smiling.

“That doesn’t include the time you half carried me home after I had broken my leg, or the multiple science related fires we had to suppress, or the time we got lost in the forest for three days.”

“That was completely your fault!” she accused him sitting up and throwing a light punch at his shoulder. “It was not my idea to go hunting on that ‘game trail’ to bring back a surprise dinner for Master Chiva.”

“Yeah well,” he shrugged. She let him just hold her for several minutes.

“Crono?”

“Yeah?”

“I just want you to know that this doesn’t make me feel any better,” but it did. She felt calm and relaxed. It didn’t feel like the world was going to end anymore, even though it already had.

“It doesn’t?” he asked. “You could have fooled me.”

She shook her head insistently. “All of the things that we’ve been through is just evidence that the two of us are accident prone and walking miracles for even still being here. Our bad luck is bound to catch up to us eventually.”

He laughed. “I suppose so.” He stood up and pulled Lucca to her feet. “Come on, we should go find Marle so she doesn’t start thinking something has happened to us. We’ll keep looking for the bike after a break.”

…

The old man finally seemed to be breathing easily. His pulse also seemed stronger. Marle sat back relieved, but also completely exhausted. Her stomach grumbled unhappily. And starving as well, apparently.

She took a look at the vial of clear liquid Lucca had left her and pulled off the stopper. And immediately jerked her head back. The stuff smelled awful! She eyed it suspiciously. But Lucca wouldn’t try to poison her. At least, she hoped not. So she downed the ether in one gulp. Her face puckered up at the bitter taste. Once recovered, from the awful aftertaste she sat back and let her eyes close.

She didn’t want to be here. She didn’t want to be constantly faced with the starving and the dying. Or with a desolated land without birds or flowers. Or with problems that she just couldn’t solve. And she was tired of never having a full stomach.

But she didn’t want to go home either. Where could a displaced runaway princess go? Suddenly she felt incredibly isolated and alone. She hugged her knees to her chest. Where were her friends? What was taking them so long?

Her legs and arms were suddenly tingling. Marle absently rubbed her arms trying to sooth away the prickling sensation. Her actions did nothing to relieve the sensation. She glanced down at her arms – there was no evidence of a rash or irritation, or insects crawling along her skin. But the sensation was spreading. Even her face began to itch.

She jumped to her feet. She couldn’t stand staying still with her skin crawling. Movement helped to distract her from it if nothing else. She would look for Crono and Lucca. It didn’t take long to find them. She heard their voices from the next room. She crossed the threshold of the open door eager for some friendly faces.

“H...” Marle began, but bit back her words when she saw them. Crono held Lucca, obviously comforting her. Marle felt very much like she was intruding on an intimate moment so she backed up, and made a silent retreat back to her patient.

By the time she reached the old man, her eyes were already watering. She tried to fight back the tears, but she failed. She felt even more alone than she had previously.

She jumped when a hand took her own. She looked down at her patient.

“Don’t cry princess,” he said with eyes barely open. “I never could stand to see one as lovely as you cry…” He trailed off as his head lolled back into sleep.

“I will try old man,” she said. How did he know she was a princess?

She didn’t really have a good reason to be crying anyway she told herself. Sure, she was estranged from her father, she was trapped in an apocalyptic future, Crono was with Lucca, and she was exhausted and starving. No, she had absolutely no reason at all to cry. But her body wracked with silent sobs anyway.

She heard her two companions approaching. She hurriedly wiped the tears away even as she turned her back to the door buying a few extra seconds to regain her composure.

“Marle!” Crono called, “Marle, we have ba… Marle? You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Just tired,” She forced herself to turn and smile. Situations like these made all her lessons on social etiquette and facial control worth it.

“How’s your patient?” he asked, buying her explanation.

“He seems to be stable for the time being. He woke up for a moment, but didn’t stay conscious. I’m not sure I can do anything more for him. I am completely drained.”

“Did you take the ether?” Lucca asked.

“I did! What is that stuff?!” Marle asked with more energy. “It makes your skin crawl! And then you just can’t stay still!”

Lucca laughed, “Yeah, sorry for not warning you about that. It’s just a concoction of various stimulants. My mother says the sensation arises because the ether stimulates blood flow. When your blood vessels start to widen to allow this it becomes… well, itchy. But it’s usually worth it if you need to get something done.”

Marle wasn’t sure if she agreed with that assessment.

“So, did you find this vehicle?” She asked looking at both of them. They hesitated before answering. That meant the news was not good.

“No, not yet,” Crono finally said.

“Maybe we should head out on foot,” Marle suggested. Her stomach twisted itself into another knot. Was there ever any good news in this place?

“No, that’s probably not a good idea. Proto Dome is not close by,” Crono explained. Lucca was staring at her feet. “We’re better off staying here an extra day or two looking for it. And we were really only looking in the core of the building where the walls were still intact. We’ll look again when it’s light out again. I’m sure we’ll find it,” Crono said keeping his voice light and unconcerned. Marle did not feel reassured.

“In the meantime, we should get some rest,” he finished. Lucca and Marle both nodded their agreement.

But Marle couldn’t sleep. Her mind whirled with too many thoughts of Crono and Lucca, of marching across an endless forsaken land. What if they couldn’t find the vehicle? Would they have to go back? That would be a mistake. Just the thought of going back filled her with dread. She knew the Chancellor was there waiting.

…

Lucca usually woke up slowly. But this morning when she opened her eyes she faced a large round blue object hovering just inches above her. It blinked! She screamed even as she jumped to her feet.

Crono was up with sword drawn. At least you could count on him to wake up when you truly needed him.

“What are you?” Crono asked the strange creature sheathing his blade.

“I am Nu. I am awaiting the wise one’s final program code,” the blue bulbous creature responded in monotone in seemingly perfect Guardian Common.

“Are you a robot?” Lucca asked excitedly.

“I am Nu,” he said simply.

“What’s a Nu?” Crono asked. At that moment the old man shot awake screaming. All three time travelers leapt towards him and pushed him back down on the pallet.

“Easy, easy,” Marle said trying to calm him down. He gripped her shoulder and pulled her close.

“You must not climb Death Peak,” he said urgently looking at her straight in the eyes.

“We won’t climb Death Peak,” Marle reassured him.

“Hey!” Lucca exclaimed. “I can understand him! We could understand the Nu as well.”

“Later Lucca,” Crono chastised.

“Right. Sorry.”

“You wouldn’t make it very far anyway,” the old man said more to himself. He calmed down instantly. “It has to be the right time,” and he fell asleep again. Marle sighed. Lucca felt a moment’s sympathy for the princess. She seemed to have her work cut out for her in this era. She turned back around, but the strange creature had vanished.

“Where did that thing go?” Lucca asked. Crono shrugged and the two of them began searching the room.

“Lucca!” Crono called. “Over here!” Crono had found a hatch in the floor. Together they lifted the heavy door up to reveal a staircase down to some kind of cellar.

“Marle, we’ll be back in a second! I think we’ve found something.”

Lucca followed Crono downstairs to find the Nu rummaging through shelves of supplies. But Lucca barely paid him any notice, her eyes were on the grey tarp covering a large object.

“Crono,” she gestured for his attention as she tore the tarp away to reveal the very motorcar that they had been searching for. She jumped in and the medallion Doan had given her started vibrating. She pulled it out and it was glowing – so was a button on the center console. She pushed it without thinking and the vehicle revved up.

“It still works!” Crono exclaimed.

Lucca got out of the vehicle and moved towards the front and began looking for a way to pry off the front panel. She wanted to see how this thing worked.

“Lucca, what are you doing?” Crono asked urgently.

“I’m trying to work out where this thing gets its power,” she explained still completely engrossed in the machine in front of her. Crono stepped forward and restrained her arm.

“Lucca, don’t you dare start taking this thing apart,” he grinned at her dismay.

“But…”

“We should leave as soon as we can. Since we’ve run out of provisions time is of the essence. Plus, we can’t risk you not being able to put it back together,” he insisted.

“Oh ye of little faith,” she retorted.

“I’ll go get Marle and your pack. We should leave immediately.”

“You mean we should eat!” Lucca countered.

“What? I thought we were out of food. Have you been holding something in reserve?”

Lucca shook her head. “We are. But what do you suppose all that is?” she pointed to the Nu who had prepared a tray with three plates with what looked like toasted bread with jam and three steaming mugs. Crono’s eyes lit up at the site.

“Marle’s going to be thrilled! We can have a feast fit for royalty!” he grinned.

…

“It’s so fresh!” Marle exclaimed taking another bite of the sticky confection. It wasn’t quite fruit, but it was closer than anything she expected to find in this time. “How is this possible? It’s like magic.”

“Don’t question good fortune,” Crono mumbled though his very full mouth.

Marle tried to eat slowly to savor every bite, but the meal was devoured much too quickly. Soon she had resorted to picking up crumbs off her plate and licking them off her fingers. The tea was surprisingly flavorful and it settled in a warm comforting way as she drank it.

“I guess it’s time to be leaving,” Lucca suggested when they had all finished their plates.

“Let me check on the old man one more time,” Marle stood up and left the kitchen.

“Good bye old man,” Marle said standing over her sleeping patient. He seemed to be resting easily. She took his hand in her own and squeezed it. “I hope you find peace,” she whispered into his ear. And then she rejoined her friends in the cellar.

The Nu seemed to have opened one of the walls and they had a clear path to drive the jet bike. The blue creature held out a bundle to Marle.

“Thank you Nu,” Marle said as she accepted his offer.

“I exist to serve,” it replied with little emotion.

“That thing must be some kind of robot,” Lucca commented.

“Doesn’t look like a robot,” Crono countered, “Are we ready?”

Marle nodded sadly, while Lucca checked her bag to make sure she had all her tools and gave Crono a thumb’s up.

“Then let’s be off. We have a long way to go.”

“I want to drive!” Lucca shouted running to the driver’s seat.

“Sure,” Crono agreed, climbing into the back to let Marle have the front. “But it’s my turn when you get tired.”

…

Belthasar bolted upright out of bed. He needed paper! He ran to his desk and began scribbling out his plans furiously. He pen froze mid-word. How was he alive? He had been certain that he had been finished. He put his hand to his chest. There was almost no pain! He was breathing easily! How was this possible?

He vaguely recalled three young smiling faces. No! That couldn’t be it. Young people! So healthy and optimistic! It was an impossibility! Must have been a dream. The Powers that Be interfering in his life seemed infinitely more likely. Which meant his restored life had to have a purpose!

He turned back to his work, writing frantically. “Nu!” he called over and over even as he worked. But the creature did not appear. Suddenly concerned, Belthasar stormed from his bedroom to the workroom still calling for his creation. Where was the dratted creature?!

“Nu!” he shouted out even louder, “It’s time for you and I to get to work! We have quite a bit yet to finish. We’ll be the masters of time travel yet!”

He came into the kitchen and his eyes were immediately drawn to the large dining table. There were three place settings on the table.

“Yes master?” The blue bulbous creature queried as he came up from the cellar. Belthasar tore his attention away from the baffling table.

“Nu!” Belthasar said excitedly, “I made a breakthrough! I can finish your program!”

Chapter Text

The ash infested air battered Lucca’s face. Her eyes burned and the constant squinting gave her a headache.

“For some reason, I thought driving would be fun.” Lucca said. Not only was it not fun, it was somehow exhausting. The warm almost full sensation imparted from breakfast had dissipated. Now, she had a crick in her back that she couldn’t seem to work out while sitting in the seat and a cramp in her leg. Marle, on the other hand, seemed comfortable enough – the princess had somehow managed to curl up against the side door of the contraption and fall asleep!

“It isn’t?” Crono asked from behind her. She glanced at him through the small mirror that was located on the top of the windshield. Ingenious idea really, the well-placed mirrors increased visibility on all sides of the vehicle. He didn’t look up at her, completely focused on cleaning his katana.

“Well, it was at first, but it gets to be monotonous. You have to watch for all the cracks and debris in the road so you can’t even go that fast.”

“I can take a turn if you want,” he offered.

“Naw, I’m okay for awhile,” she reassured him. She continued to look at his blade through the mirror. Something seemed off about it.

“What is that thing made out of?” she asked. Crono shrugged.

“Steel? Honestly, I never asked.”

“There’s not any nicks or scratches. It’s pristine! And you’ve been cutting through mystics and metal alike,” Lucca marveled.

“Lucca!” Crono pointed ahead urgently. Lucca turned her attention in time to see the remains of a wrecked vehicle directly ahead in the road.

Lucca jerked the wheel to the right and braked hard. She managed to swerve around the obstacle and come to a stop. Her hands gripped the wheel in a vice and she was suddenly aware of her pounding heart. Marle stirred out of her sleep and sat up rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Are we there yet?” the princess asked in a daze.

“Not even close,” Lucca managed, still clutching the driver’s wheel like it was a lifeline. Lucca took a few slow deep breaths trying to calm her drumming chest.

“You okay?” Crono asked her softly.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but maybe you should drive,” she suggested. He nodded and climbed out of the back seat.

Lucca took his place leaning back with closed eyes, grateful that she no longer had to be on constant alert. Her stomach, now past indignant rumblings, twisted itself into a painful knot.

“So when are we allowed to eat?” she asked.

“Umm… there’s not a lot here,” Marle said, peering into the Nu’s bundle. “We should probably save it for tomorrow.”

Lucca sighed and willed herself to fall asleep. Maybe then, she could at least be unaware of how hungry she had to be.

…

Marle twisted in her seat trying to find a more comfortable position, but it was no use. There just wasn’t enough space to stretch out. So she turned her gaze to her blood-speckled top, and began picking at the brown splotches. The stains remained stubbornly in place. She sighed and drew her attention away from her disheveled clothing.

“What do you suppose those are?” she asked pointing to the tall pink bulbous stands that spread across the desolate landscape. They looked like no other plant she had ever seen.

“I don’t know. Is it some kind of tree?” Lucca guessed. Marle continued to study the strange phenomena. She jumped back, startled.

“Definitely not plants! I think it just moved!” Marle exclaimed.

“No, definitely not plants,” Crono agreed. The vehicle slowed to a stop. Marle turned her attention forward. The road ahead was heavily populated with the strange mutants that seemed to be shuffling and shoving through each other trying to get at something further within the pack.

Close up, it was obvious the creatures were not plants. At some point it looked like the beasts had had two legs, but something had happened and the limbs were now fused together in one long twisted column. They had a large and round torso with a slightly smaller sphere that made up its head. They had short tentacles that sprouted out in random places throughout its body – more limbs that just hadn’t formed properly. They varied in color from motley brown to salmon and pink. The combination had quite a disturbing effect, though not at all frightening.

“What are they doing?” she asked.

“Scavenging,” Crono guessed and as he said it Marle could make out the remains of a large furry animal lying on the ground.

“Is there a way to get around?” But she already knew the answer to that question. All it took was a quick glance at the ditches and rough terrain on either side.

“I can try to scare them with an explosion,” Lucca suggested. Marle shrugged, but Crono nodded.

The inventor took careful aim and fired two shots at the ground near the writhing mass of abominations.

Marle had to cover her ears at the sudden screeching shrieks. The pack seemed to turn eerily as one toward the vehicle. Marle saw no evidence that the mutants had eyes, but she suddenly felt very exposed. A second later the mob shot forward toward them.

“Shit!” Lucca cursed. “Punch it!”

Marle sunk backwards into her seat as Crono sent the vehicle surging forward straight into the throng.

Marle closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact.

The vehicle’s forward motion was interrupted by sudden hard thuds. Each one eliciting a shriek from the princess.

“Marle!” Crono yelled. “Do you think you can shoot it?”

Marle forced her eyes open and saw the pink mottled beast spread out on the front end of their vehicle. She pulled up her cross bow from the floor, stood up, took aim, and shot the beast.

It let out a horrifying shrill scream of it’s own.

Marle punctured it with more and more arrows until it went limp and fell to the ground.

Crono sent the bike straight over it with a single thud and they continued away from the mutant mob at top speed. Marle turned back to watch the angry collective shrink away to nothing.

“I think we’re okay,” Lucca informed them after a solid ten minutes had passed. “They don’t seem to be following us anymore.”

“Can we stop for a bit?” Marle pleaded. She suddenly very much needed to get out of the confined space.

“In a bit,” Crono reassured. “If we’re going to stop, I’d like to find a rock or ruins to act as cover if we need it.”

It was another few minutes before Crono found a suitable outcropping. The break was short, none of the trio wanting to linger.

“My turn to drive!” Marle called excitedly when they all piled back into the bike.

…

Lucca was finding it difficult to relax, let alone sleep, while Marle was in control of the vehicle. The princess seemed to delight in traveling at extremely high speeds and swerving around obstacles at the last instant. This also made for a lot of sliding and skidding across the road. On the other hand, her stomach hated her more than ever, but she no longer felt hungry. And if she was honest with herself, they were probably making much better time. She glanced forward just in time to see that they were accelerating up a slight incline.

“Marle!” Lucca cried warningly, but they were already airborne. Lucca gripped the side of the door in fear.

The vehicle came crashing back to the ground accompanied by Marle’s delighted laughter, before once again accelerating forward.

“If you would please keep our only mode of transportation in tact!” Lucca admonished.

“Sorry!” she called back with a giggle.

She slowed the vehicle as they approached an intersection.

“Which way?” Marle asked.

“I think you should turn south,” Lucca said squinting in concentration. Marle looked both left and right, but she didn’t move.

“Which way is South?” she asked after a moment.

Crono laughed and pointed to the right. Marle gradually accelerated and made the turn.

“How can you tell?” Marle wanted to know.

“Well, we’ve been traveling east,” Crono explained.

“And how could you tell we were traveling east?” Marle asked. Lucca sighed and tuned out Crono’s explanation. It didn’t surprise Lucca that the princess had no sense of direction whatsoever. When would she have needed to develop one? But her helplessness with simple things continued to irritate the inventor. Maybe Lucca would gift the princess with her compass. But then, Lucca wasn’t sure the princess knew how to use such a device.

They continued south for what felt like hours. And Lucca never managed to fall asleep. Instead, she stared out into the distance with eyes glazed over.

“Look! I think that’s it!” Lucca sat straight up gesturing excitedly toward the immense dome structure that could barely be seen through the ashen haze.

“How far do you think it actually is?” Marle asked skeptically. “Remember how long it took to get to Arris even after we could see it?”

“It’s closer than you think,” Lucca promised. “Proto is much smaller than Arris and we are traveling much faster.”

“Oh good. I need a break.”

“Driving really isn’t all that fun is it?” Lucca sympathized.

“I kind of like it,” Marle disagreed brightly.

“Of course you do,” Lucca said under her breath.

“What was that?” Marle asked.

“Oh nothing!” Lucca reassured, “Just talking to myself.”

…

Proto Dome was in even worse disrepair than Arris had been. Every chamber seemed filled with debris and fragments. And there weren’t any human inhabitants to make use of the wreckage as makeshift walkways and ramps. So the trio ended up climbing over and digging through mountains of who knew what. At least it didn’t have as many holes in the ceiling as Lab 32, which seemed to make for more breathable air. Lucca had no idea how they would effectively search for a gate. It took fifteen minutes just to get from one side of a room to the next. And before long, what little natural lighting they had faded away as the sun went down.

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything tonight,” Crono concluded. “We probably should find a corner and get some sleep.”

The two girls nodded their agreement. But sleep was not that easy to find. Lucca was restless from sitting in a tiny space all day and her stomach was still complaining, though Lucca was uncertain if it was still roiling from the wild ride or the lack of nourishment. It didn’t matter – it hurt either way. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dark she found herself attempting to identify the wreckage. There was probably some fascinating stuff in these heaps if only she could distinguish between trash and treasure.

Sleep must have found the inventor because Marle was soon poking her awake with a handful of the Nu’s donation to their food stocks. She took the nourishment gratefully, but nearly gagged with her first bite. It was nothing like what he had fed them before. The bread wasn’t just bland and dry, but also sandy. He must have broken out the expensive stuff for them when they were actually visiting. She choked it down anyway. It was better than nothing. Crono had no trouble with it. Marle on the other hand… well, the princess was used to higher quality foodstuffs. She gave half of hers to Crono and began searching the warehouse they were in.

“Lucca!” Marle called, “I think I found something you should see.”

Lucca picked her way around the debris towards Marle. She turned the corner to see the finished, though not exactly polished, invention that she had been working towards for years: a humanoid robot. She squealed in excitement. If she could learn how it worked, she might be able to complete her own project.

Marle laughed. “I thought you would like him.”

Lucca ignored the princess, too busy examining the mechanical masterpiece. “I wonder if I can fix it?” the inventor thought aloud.

“What?!” Marle objected. “It might attack us.”

“I’ll make sure it won’t,” she reassured.

“How?” the princess demanded.

“It’s a machine! It follows a program,” Lucca said tightly, suddenly irritated.

“Lucca, you actually pity them don’t you?” Marle asked after a pause, clearly baffled.

Lucca sighed. Well yeah, it seemed unfair that something that was just as intelligent, if not more, than a human being had very little choice in its actions.

“Just let me get to work,” Lucca said, very much wanting to dodge the potential altercation.

“Sure,” Marle gestured toward the humanoid robot.

“I guess I will look for the gate. Since Lucca’s got the patient this time, you want to come with?” Crono invited, his voice suspiciously light, as if he didn’t care. Lucca rolled her eyes.

“Yes, of course,” Marle said turning a dazzling smile toward Lucca’s childhood friend. The two made their way deeper into the dome, elbows linked.

“Good luck,” Lucca called after them. “Let me know if you find anything!”

Lucca turned her attention eagerly to the android. The exterior of the robot appeared undamaged, if a bit rusty in a few places – mostly at the joints. Her eyes scanned across the front and back of the torso looking for any kind of seam that might indicate there was an access panel. She found and slipped her finger into a narrow crevasse and the back panel clicked open automatically. That meant he probably still had power!

“Wow!” the innards revealed pathways of what appeared to be some kind of transparent plastic fibers and color coded wires connected to a circuit board. A row of flashing red lights immediately filled her vision. Lucca assumed that the lights indicated that those systems were currently down. The other half of the system appeared to be completely dead. Each color wire probably sent signals or power to a different system. She followed the green pathway until she encountered an unconnected wire. She then connected it to the open green female port. It clicked into place with a satisfying snap and one of the indicator lights turned green.

She grinned. Her task was clear, but it would involve a lot of trial and error. As she began working through the blue, red, and orange pathways she quickly realized that she had been lucky to start with green. Most of the circuit pathways were both more complicated and more damaged. She was going to need a stash of replacement wires.

And she had no idea what the clear plastic looking wires were for. Those circuits were not color coded and therefore not nearly as intuitive to follow. Hopefully, that system was mostly intact.

She tore through the cabinets and cupboards, finding mostly rubbish. But it wasn’t all trash. She managed to pull bits of wire from other electronic remnants and a heating element that she was certain she could use as a soldering iron.

She compared the new wires to the ones inside the metallic humanoid robot, putting wires that appeared to be made of the same internal material and diameter to one side. She assumed the colors did not truly matter – that the systems were color coded merely to make the repairman’s job easier. When she had a handy stack of supplies, she began working her way through the next system, carefully soldering her new wires into place.

She jumped as the tall pile of trash four feet away from her began sliding down in a mini-avalanche.

“Back so soon?” Lucca inquired, assuming the disturbance was the result of her friends.

“Lucca, we’ve been gone for hours,” Marle remarked. Crono laughed.

“Did you find anything?” Lucca asked.

Crono shrugged.

“And here I was hoping we got lucky for once.”

“Well, this place is an improvement over dealing with security bots,” Crono countered.

“Fair enough. So what’d you find?”

“Just locked doors for the most part. The only time we could get into chambers was when the wall was torn to pieces,” Marle explained.

“That’s too…” Lucca jerked her hand back reflexively, cursing as she stuck her pointer finger in her mouth to sooth the burn.

“You okay?” Crono asked urgently.

“Yeah, just minor electrical shock,” she replied grumpily around her finger.

“Can I help?” he offered.

“I dunno. Do you think you can find me anymore of these?” she asked with a bright smile, holding up a sample connective end. She had plenty of wire for the time being, but it wouldn’t do her much good if she couldn’t connect it to anything. And since she didn’t know exactly what she was doing, soldering the wires permanently in place was probably a bad idea.

“I can try.”

Crono began tearing through the cupboards himself. Looking at circuit boards and inside computer consoles. It was almost like they were back in her room – she working on some project, and he searching for some tool or part that she had misplaced in the tornado that was her organizational system.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” he asked holding up a metal pin. She attempted to plug the bit into a port, but it didn’t fit.

“Almost, just a little smaller.”

Marle sighed. “I’m going to keep looking for the gate,” she announced.

“Have fun,” Lucca called absently.

“Yeah, good luck!” Crono echoed with a friendly wave. “I’ll join you in a bit.”

Marle nodded.

“Hey Lucca! I think I found something that you could use!” He shouted excitedly, turning all his attention back to Lucca.

Marle left silently.

Lucca made her way over to Crono’s discovery. He had found complete spools of wire in different colors and sizes, as well as a box with plastic drawers filled with different connective ends, plastic ties, and little nuts and bolts.

“Perfect! Bring it over,” she directed – already soldering the first wire to the appropriate end.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked, watching her work.

“Do you see this here?” she pointed to the remaining red blinking lights. He nodded. “And these ones here?” she pointed to the solidly green lights.

“The goal is simple: to turn all the red lights into green ones. In most cases so far, it has just a matter of reconnecting the circuit pathway. This half of the system has been pretty intuitive.”

“How can you be sure it won’t hurt us then?”

“He has a failsafe line of code that prevents him from harming humans – I’m certain.”

“What about the robots at Arris?” he asked. Lucca winced.

“I think this one is different. The others were just security bots, probably designed to keep unwanted people out. This one is made to resemble people. To me, that suggests he would interact with them regularly. And if so, they’d have put in a line of code.”

Crono shrugged. “Do you have your own fail safe?”

“Of course!” she said brightly.

“What is it?”

“You use your magic sword to slice through all this wiring.”

He grunted, which was echoed by his rumbling stomach. And they both laughed.

“If your stomach is like mine, you have fifteen minutes before it starts trying to digest itself,” Lucca sympathized.

“Nothing to do about it now,” he said with a shrug, “I’m going to go look for Marle.”

Lucca smiled knowingly. “Have fun,” she said, in a singsong voice.

He stuck his tongue at her before promptly disappearing.

And Lucca went back to soldering.

…

Crono had expected it to take longer to find Marle. But he nearly tripped over her sitting against a wall just around a corner.

“Marle? What’s wrong?” Crono asked suddenly aware that she was crying.

She shook her head. He was silent for a moment just standing. He didn’t know what to do or to say.

“Do you want to get up? Join me and maybe get your mind off of whatever it is.”

She shook her head again.

He sat down beside her and squeezed her shoulder. She pulled away.

“Would you please just leave me alone?”

Stung by her dismissal, he was quick to comply. He resumed his search. But his thoughts remained on Marle. Was she angry with him?

After unsuccessfully trying to break down another locked door, he soon settled for angry pacing up and down the now very familiar corridors. Maybe he should have tried harder to get her to talk. But it was hard to stay where you weren’t wanted. Maybe Lucca would know what to do.

…

Lucca put down the soldering iron and rose to her feet. She was going cross-eyed from staring at the tiny connections and needed a break. She made three laps around the room before deciding that she was better off leaving the area entirely.

The corridors were surprisingly clear of broken wreckage and Lucca found it easy to pace back and forth. She turned a corner and was surprised to see Marle huddled up in the corner still.

“Hey Marle! I had assumed you were with Crono. What’re you doing?” Lucca asked.

“I’m conserving energy,” Marle responded despondently.

“Why? Seeing as we don’t have any food left, the best way to conserve energy is to find a way out of here!” Lucca argued.

“I can’t work with Crono right now. I’d appreciate it, if you’d leave me alone too. I need some space,” Marle said tightly.

“Space? We are in a fairly precarious situation and you decide to sit there and throw tantrums? I am sorry if this is not your luxurious palace where you get 5.8 meals a day. But we need to find that gate!”

“You’re not helping either!” Marle countered. “You’re too busy playing with your technological toys!”

“It’s not a toy. And if I can get it running, I’m sure it’d be able to find the gate in three seconds!”

“Well then, why are you wasting time yelling at me?”

Lucca had no response to this. So she stalked back to her “toy”. At least the machine wouldn’t pout in the corner.

She channeled her frustration into the machine and before she knew it she had forgotten all about the princess as she had entirely new sets of problems to be frustrated about. Take this lubrication system! Full of holes and leaks and she had no way to seal them back up. She needed replacement parts. But where was she going to find those?

“How’s it coming?”

Lucca jumped six inches – startled by Crono’s question.

“Crono! You scared me! Why don’t you ever make any noise?”

He grinned. “You’re pretty easy to sneak up on when you’re working.”

“So how’s it coming?” he repeated.

“I don’t know… I’m miles ahead of where I was, but I think I’m encountering problems that I have no way of fixing.”

“Knowing you, that just means it’ll take you a little longer than you planned.”

“You have entirely too much faith in me. You find anything?”

“I spent two hours finding a new path through broken walls – only to end up in warehouse I already knew how to get into, if that counts?”

“Not unless you found a new lubricant injector for me!” she said with false brightness.

He held out his empty hands.

“Too bad.”

“Lucca? Could you do me a favor?”

“Whaddya need?”

“Well… Marle seems kinda upset,” he began.

“Yeah,” Lucca agreed darkly. “I noticed. What do you want me to do about it?”

“I was hoping you could talk to her.”

“Why me?”

“Well, you’re a girl and I thought…” he trailed off.

Lucca stared at her friend in disbelief. “Riiiight,” she filled into the silence, “because I’m so good at girl stuff.”

“Well, you’ve got to be better at it than me.”

Lucca highly doubted it.

“Please?” he begged.

Gods! He must really like this girl if he had to stoop to asking her for aid in the interpersonal department.

“Yeah, I’ll try,” she promised recklessly. “But I don’t promise that I’ll be successful. And I’m going to wait for a better moment because when I stuck my head out there earlier it did not go well. And lastly, you’ll owe me for this…. Big time!”

“Thanks Lucca!” he said with a grin.

She sighed. What kind of trouble was he dragging her into now?

She popped a wire into place and jumped back as motors began spinning up. She glanced at the lights - they were all green.

…

Operating System Prometheus 2.3 rebooting.

Equilibrium sensors reactivated. Current position: sedentary.

Cervical motors non-operational. Movement currently not possible.

Thermal visual sensors reactivated. Seven heat sources detected. Three humanoid life forms, two rodents, and two electronic power sources.

Auditory sensors reactivated… linguistic sound waves detected. Linguistic vocals do not match current linguistic database.

Recording auditory signals to extrapolate patterns.

Speech sub-routines restored.

Logical and Reasoning protocol restored.

Interpersonal behavioral sub routines restored.

Primary directive to study human behaviors, restored.

Attempting to charge capacitors.

Catastrophic failure.

Electron pathways incomplete.

Attempting to communicate.

Catastrophic failure.

Audio box inoperative.

Attempting to restore power to cervical joints.

Catastrophic failure.

Lubrication system inoperative.

…

And then it stopped.

Lucca threw her helmet across the room in frustration.

“Lucca, you’ve been working for hours. You probably should take a break. Or maybe get some sleep,” Crono suggested softly.

“I can’t. I’m almost there.”

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Crono said eyeing the helmet.

“The electronic aspect is completely in order! And yet, he still doesn’t reactivate!” she ranted.

“Doesn’t he have other aspects?” Crono asked.

“Of course he does!” she said impatiently. “There has to either be something wrong with his programming – perhaps his system files or memory banks have been corrupted. Or there is a mechanical problem. I’m hoping for mechanical as I actually have some expertise there. I will be completely lost with the programming – even if I could figure a way to display it on a screen, it’s in a different language. It’s this blasted lubrication system probably! The thing has so many junctions – it’s no wonder it leaks everywhere!”

“You’ll figure it out,” he said confidently. Lucca wished she felt half as certain as he did.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” he said leaning against a trash heap on the other side of the workshop.

Lucca barely nodded and simply continued working. When she had run out of light she pulled a small portable light from her bag. And when the yawns started coming, she knew that she should follow Crono’s advice and get some sleep, but she couldn’t. Not when she was this close.

Then she became dimly aware of whimpered half-suppressed sobs. She put down her wire cutters with a sigh. Given a choice, Lucca would have ignored the girl’s crying, but she had promised Crono she would wait for a better opportunity and this was probably a good one. And so she rose to her feet and made her way out into the corridor. The sobs instantly cut off.

“Marle? What’s wrong?” Lucca asked trying to keep her voice concerned and friendly.

“Nothing,” Marle responded. Lucca didn’t move. It clearly was something.

“Look, I’m sorry Marle. I know I was not exactly being fair or understanding earlier. We’ve all been a little on edge these last few days. It’s probably a symptom of lack of nourishment.”

The princess said nothing. Lucca sighed. This was why she didn’t have any girlfriends. They took far too much maintenance and they always expected you to just know what was wrong. She found males to be much more straightforward and blunt, making them so much easier to get along with. Not that she had many male friends either. And Crono was really the only one she felt close to at the moment. She sat down next to the princess’s prone form and crossed her legs.

“I know things are looking a little dire. We are in way over our heads and we don’t have much to work with,” she paused before continuing. “I broke down the other day at the Lab. And Crono, reminded me of all the jams and disasters he and I had somehow always managed to squeeze through. The key is to not give up.”

The princess still did not speak and Lucca couldn’t think of anything else to say so she just rocked slowly back and forth hoping the other girl would crack.

“It must be nice, to have someone care about you like that,” Marle finally said into the silence, she remained rolled on her side with her back to the inventor.

“Yeah, Crono’s always been great,” Lucca agreed, seizing onto the topic.

“I apologize for being so withdrawn. I never had any close friends. Everyone knew that I was a princess and they always treated me differently. I usually did things alone. And I used to be okay with that. Being with the two of you and watching you interact… Well, I suddenly feel terribly alone.”

“Marle, I thought we were your friends too,” Lucca insisted.

“You are! I meant no offense,” Marle rolled over toward her companion, “It’s just what you have with him. Well, I imagine that that kind of trust and level of intimacy takes time to build. And intellectually, I understand that. Emotionally, I feel left out.”

“It must have been hard growing up and everyone knowing that you’re someone important. You can never be certain that they like you for you,” Lucca sympathized.

“Exactly,” the princess agreed.

“I’ve never had many friends either, but I think I always had one,” Lucca explained. “One person that I could trust with anything. I don’t know what the last few years would have been like, had Crono not been around.”

“I’ve never been in a relationship with anyone. What’s it like?”

“Relationship?!” Lucca shook her head. “It’s not like that at all. That would be like… dating my brother.”

“But I thought…”

“Is that why you’ve been upset?”

Marle flushed, but nodded. “Partly.”

“Marle listen, Crono is my best friend. We tried dating once and it just didn’t work.”

“You did? What was it like?”

Lucca laughed. “It was a disaster! We get on each other’s nerves too much. But I doubt it’ll be like that with you. I’m pretty sure he’s completely smitten with you.”

Marle flushed again. Lucca grinned.

“Looks like you like him a lot too!” Lucca accused.

“Shh! You’ll wake him up.” Marle said worried. Lucca laughed.

“No, he’s a rock when he sleeps. That robot could explode and he’d just roll over. But if either of us screams he’ll be up in a second ready to fight.”

Marle nodded. “Why is that? How can he have selective hearing like that?”

Lucca felt the muscles in her face tighten at the change in subject.

“Forgive me Marle, but that’s a story that only Crono has the right to share.”

“I understand.” The princess said solemnly and then she grinned. “So how’s your project coming?”

“I think I’ve almost got it. You want to help?”

“Can I?” she asked enthusiastically.

“Yes! You’ve got slender fingers so you’ll be really precise with the wiring and connections,” she offered a hand up to the princess and they walked back to the machine.

“So how can you fix stuff that’s so far advanced? How do you know how it works?”

“I don’t know – not for sure. But some things just make sense to me. My father calls it mechanical intuition. A lot of this stuff is not that dissimilar to what I’ve made before except this stuff is amazingly small! See here,” she gestured to the shoulder joint.

“Here’s a ball that’s been lubricated with something that is encased in a socket, surrounded by little motors to drive it. If you know how it’s supposed to move, which theoretically it moves like we do and you can figure out how to fix it. In this case, you assume the socket is meant to rotate around the ball just like our own shoulder. So if it’s unable to move, like here at his wrist, you assume something is wrong.”

“What’s all this stuff do?” Marle pointed to the circuit board.

“This seems to be the computer – this is the part that a little beyond me and that I don’t understand. This is where his logical thought processes, and data memory would be stored or so I guess. They put it here because there’s more space and it’s easier to armor and protect. And his lower torso here seems to be the power center – everything is connected to it. I’m not exactly sure where he gets the power from but this area distributes it once he has it.”

“Then what’s in the head?”

“Just sensors mostly – visual, audio, etc. Probably other things that he can detect that we cannot.”

“So what’s wrong with him?”

“Well, I’ve spent the majority of the last day and a half connecting his various sub-systems together so his computer can tell his legs to move or his voice box to activate. And I think that’s all been fixed.”

“Wow! That’s amazing!”

“It would be if he powered up. He started to for a second, but then it failed. I’m now trying to repair his lubrication system. I’m having issues because some of these pieces have huge holes in them or leak like crazy at the joints and I have no replacement parts.”

“Which ones?” Marle asked.

Lucca pointed out the three pieces that were giving her the most grief.

“I think I’ve seen those two stored away in one of the rooms Crono and I broke into earlier today here,”

“Really?” Lucca asked excitedly. “Show the way!” Lucca followed her through the corridors. Marle lead her to the east side of the complex.

After rummaging through a few cabinets, they found not only the two that Marle had seen, but the third as well.

“Marle, thank you!” Lucca exclaimed. “I was beginning to give up hope.”

“You are most welcome! It’s seems strange to me, that we’ve just been able to find all these spare parts,” the princess commented.

“Actually, I think this is some kind of maintenance facility. I think he was being repaired when disaster struck.”

“How can you know that?”

“Can’t be sure I guess, but I have found so many tools and parts that just seem to be made to work specifically on him.

When they came back to her project, Lucca set Marle the task of holding wires and cable out of the way as she removed the faulty parts.

“This is so nice!” Marle exclaimed.

“What is?” Lucca asked, not turning her attention away from the android’s lubrication system.

“Girl talk!” Marle said. “I’ve never been able to do this before.”

Lucca laughed. “You know, me neither. Though I don’t know if you can refer to mechanical engineering as girl talk.”

“Oh whatever! We’re girls and we’re talking. So it’s girl talk!”

“I think we’re good!” Lucca exclaimed standing up.

“Let’s activate him!” Marle cried. Lucca laughed at the girl’s sudden enthusiasm.

“Maybe we should wait for Crono,” Lucca suggested.

“I’ll go wake him.”

“Good luck,” Lucca said dryly. Waking Crono up was usually a difficult and frustrating task.

…

Crono was already half awake and he could hear the girls chatting with one another. Was Marle up and about again? He hoped so. And someone, he thought it was Lucca, laughed. And then it was silent.

He rolled onto his back and sat up to be greeted by Marle’s overly bright smile a few inches away from his face.

“Hi!” she exclaimed. He blinked up at her, not nearly awake enough to process her sudden presence.

“Hi,” he responded, puzzled. He glanced over at Lucca who was across the large warehouse. She wore a smirk. What were they up to?

“I’m glad to see you’re in a good mood today,” he added. Her smile faltered. He inwardly kicked himself for the comment. He hoped that she knew he meant nothing by it other than he was glad to see she was feeling better.

“Yeah, sorry about yesterday. Anyway, Lucca thinks that she’s finished with the robot, but she wanted to wait until you were awake to activate it.”

“She wants her failsafe ready and responsive?” he grinned.

“What?” The princess asked.

“Never mind. Tell her to give me a few minutes,” the swordsman then rolled to his feet and began a few stretches, then he approached the contraption and his friends with the hilt of his katana gripped firmly, ready to draw if she should be needed. He nodded to his childhood friend. He was ready. Lucca leaned into the metallic body.

“Here goes nothing,” she announced pushing a small button on the circuit board. The second she made contact she jerked away cursing. Sparks flew like miniature bolts of lightning, lancing outward. Marle screamed. Crono grabbed her and pulled her away from the machine.

“Damn! I must have a short somewhere,” Lucca said more to herself. But then it stood up and turned toward Marle. The sparks seemed to lessen and then completely dissipate.

“Goo… Good morning mistress. I apologize for gloping you. The flaunkes are just my calengers discharging. Beginnen takes a lot of energy initially. What is your command?” the synthetic voice asked.

Marle stood with wide eyes, obviously lost for words. Crono poked her and she jumped.

“Oh! Umm… Good morning!” she responded uncertainly. Then suddenly she scowled. “I’m not your mistress! I’m Marle.”

“This is Crono,” she pointed behind her. Crono half waved. “And Lucca over there, fixed you.”

“Understood. Madam Lucca fixed me,” the robot bowed to the inventor.

“Just Lucca will be fine,” Lucca corrected.

“Impossible. Etiquette protocol states that the lack of title would be rude,” he explained.

“Look, I hate formal titles,” Lucca said firmly. “Don’t you Marle?”

“Hate ‘em!” Marle agreed with a giggle.

“What’s your name?” Lucca asked.

“Name? My designation is R66 dash Y.”

“R66-Y? Cool!” Lucca exclaimed.

“R66-Y? That’s not a name at all!” Marle complained.

“Rather judgmental of you to say so,” Lucca chimed in.

“No it isn’t! It’s terrible of his creators to call him by a number instead of an actual name. It implies he’s not a real person.”

“He’s not,” Lucca pointed out.

“I think we should give him a real name,” Crono interjected. Lucca gave him a dark look. And he shrugged innocently at her.

“Well, you’re a robot. How about Robo?” Marle suggested.

“What,” Lucca said flatly, “Robo… That’s even worse! Why can’t we just call him Arsix or something?”

“That would still be a number, Lucca,” Marle stated patiently.

“I know! But Robo is the most unoriginal name for a creature that is amazingly sophisticated and unique!”

“Actually, I have many brothers of the same model and therefore I cannot be classified as unique,” the robot corrected.

“I think Robo is an adorable name,” Marle insisted.

“Further reason to not pick it!” Lucca countered vehemently.

“We should vote on it,” Crono suggested. Lucca cast him another dark look, which he pretended not to see.

“All in favor of the name Robo?” Marle asked, her hand already in the air. Crono’s was only a second behind carefully avoiding Lucca’s glare. She would make him pay for this later. She was the one that had spent hours working on the machine after all. And she had obviously talked to Marle so he owed her twice over.

“That settles it. Your new name is Robo,” Marle explained.

“Understood. Data storage complete. I am Robo.”

“Nice to meet you Robo. How are you able to speak our ancient language?” Marle asked.

“I have been analyzing your ledenes patterns for the last 6.53 hours since my auditory sensors were reactivated and was able to terminen the vowel shifts.”

Crono glanced at Lucca. Had she been talking to herself all night? She looked ready to laugh. It was Marle who had flushed.

“There may be leden errors in the future,” the robot continued, “but with more relevant data, even those will be kulled.”

“That’s amazing!” Marle exclaimed.

“What happened to this facility?” Lucca interrupted, though Crono could tell she was impressed as well.

“I do not owen the data of how Proto Dome came to be in its current plyte. How did you come to be here?”

“We… umm,” Marle began uncertainly.

“We’re time travelers from the past,” Lucca filled in. “We came here looking for a time gate. There should be one here, but we haven’t found it.

“This place seems to be on lockdown and we can’t explore the place,” Crono finished for her, surprised that Lucca had volunteered the fact they were time travelers. But then, she always did trust machines more than people.

The robot sifted through the debris smoothly and efficiently to one of the consoles. There was none of the disjointedness in his movements that Crono would have expected.

“It appears that the feré is off,” the robot reported. “I suspect that the facility’s calengers have been brested and that we only have feré when the solar panels are receiving sunnebems.”

“But Robo, it’s light out right now.”

“The panels may be covered in asche or disconnected from the Dome’s systemme. We will have to head up to the roof to terminen the problem. I could use your fulst Lucca.”

“Fulst?” Marle echoed.

“I think he meant help,” Crono whispered.

“Absolutely!” Lucca agreed, her face flushed. Crono chuckled. Lucca was completely taken with the android.

“If we are successful, it would be advantageous if both of you would remain here and perhaps clef up. You will be able to apert the doors while the feré is on, but when the sun sets the feré will go down agen.”

Crono nodded his understanding.

“You take the west side Crono,” Marle decided. “I’ll do the east,” she continued as she actually headed north. Crono watched her leave a slight smile on his lips. Guess that meant he should do the south side of the complex.

“The roof access is this way Lucca,” Robo gestured down a hall.

“Hold up Robo! I’ll be right with you,” Lucca said before she turned her glaring eyes back toward his own.

“Yes, Lucca?” Crono asked with false sweetness.

“You sided with her just because you like her,” Lucca accused about two inches from his face. He shrugged.

“Your point?” he asked grinning, taking a step back from her.

“Robo is a terrible name! And I will hold this against you. Naming inventions is a very delicate process.”

“Lucca, you didn’t invent Robo,” Crono pointed out.

“I know that! But I spent a decent amount of time working on him so he still feels like my project.”

“He’s way more than a project. I think Marle was right to give him a name.”

“I’m fine with him having a name! But why did it have to be Robo? Why not Vevo or Zeta, or something cool?”

“Marle likes Robo and he doesn’t seem to mind.”

“That’s it! You and her both have now lost your naming privileges for all time,” she ranted. Crono grinned as she stalked off after Robo.

…

Lucca watched amazed, as Robo fluidly ascended the ladder. She didn’t know why she was so surprised. It was obvious that he had been constructed to navigate the human world. He wouldn’t be very useful if he were restricted to wheels.

She shook herself out of her thoughts and jumped up the first few steps of the ladder to catch up.

“So, what did you do here?” Lucca asked once they got to the top of the ladder.

“This was an astore facility. I was here for regular maintenance,” Robo opened a door that lead out onto the roof. The sky was still ashy. Lucca pulled her shirt over her nose and mouth to hold off the inevitable coughing.

“That would explain why we were able to find so many tools and spare parts! I guess you were lucky that you were here when the facility went down.”

“It is doubtful that luck had anything to do with it. By random chance, it would seem probable that there would be those of my model here on any given day and time.” He spoke as he pried open a panel on the roof.

Lucca chuckled. “Oh, of course!”

“I had not entented for my statement to be amusing.”

“Doesn’t mean that it wasn’t. But don’t worry Robo, I understood what you meant.”

“I was not worried.”

Lucca stifled another laugh.

“It would appear that the primaté solar array is completely non-operational,” Robo reported, “I don’t think we will be able to astore it.”

“So we’re out of luck?”

“The secondary array is still functioning, but it is not receiving enough electromagnetic exposure to charge the facility’s calengers.”

“So…. We just need to clean them?” Lucca guessed.

“Affirmative,” he pointed to left side of the roof. “You should ginnen at that corner and work your way out. I will return with the appropriate buskinge for this task.”

“Great,” Lucca said sarcastically. She hated cleaning. She had assumed that there would be some kind of mechanics or electronics involved in getting the power system back up. Not cleaning…

Robo returned shortly with an ordinary broom, which he handed to her, a heavy cloth of some sort, and a container of some kind of chemical.

“Trade you jobs,” she offered holding the broom back out to the android.

“It would be unwitti for you to use this solvent as it may corrode through your skin.

“Yeah, that would probably be bad,” she agreed, pulling the broom back to her chest.

“I suggest you use the broom to swopen off the top layers of asche and I will use the solvent to dissolve anything that relikes.”

Even as she swept away the top most layers of ash, Lucca despaired of it ever being enough as the under layers were caked and grimy. And even when Robo managed to uncover the crystalline surface, it was soon covered again in dark ash that fell from the sky. Robo however did not seem concerned.

“You know, this might be less tedious with a little conversation,” Lucca suggested.

“What would you like to discuss?”

“I don’t know. Whatever suits your fancy.”

“My database contains very little information on time travel.”

“I doubt I know much more than you do. Time travel is something that we stumbled upon and don’t really understand.”

“What makes you think there is a gate here?”

“Well, we gated in at Bangor Dome. And I combed through a lot of data on the Arris computer and Bangor and Proto Dome both had the same tachyon abnormality.”

“According to the theory of temporal mechanics, a stable time vortex can form if a high energy tachyon beam is fired through a gravitic lens at a massive block of protonic matter. But such a locale would be rare to encounter.”

“Robo, this is probably the first time I’ve ever had to say this in my entire life, but I am afraid I don’t know enough technical vocabulary or have enough knowledge of temporal mechanics to even comment on what you just said,” she paused thinking. “Except that both locations only showed slight amounts of increased tachyons. It was only Death Peak that had huge amounts.”

“That was the site of the disaster. The site is sprekelin with high levels of ser types of radiation and exotic particles.”

“Was it? We saw the recording. You were still functional after? I had assumed it was Lavos that brought this place to the ground.”

“I was functional for 2.8 years after the Day of Lavos. The first wave of destruction probably dysstryed half of the world’s population. The survivors struggled on after that. Not every population center was struck and we had plans to rebuild. But the transportation system for food and resources was compromised. Many of the survivors eventually perished due to wederen or starvation.”

“Sounds awful,” Lucca said softly. “Maybe it doesn’t have to happen.”

“What do you mean?”

“Marle got Crono and I to agree that we should try to prevent this future from happening.”

“You are trying to saue this werold?” The android queried.

“Don’t know how far we’ll get, but that’s the plan!”

“What will you do? Now that you have been repaired?” she asked.

…

The android remained silent. The probability of humans offering him self-determination had never ridden above 1.2% and he did not have an adequate response prepared. He had inaccurately hypothesized that these humans would assign him some task or mission to complete.

“No one has ever asked me that before,” he said while his processors went to work still trying to formulate an answer to Lucca’s inquiry.

These humans were very different from others he had studied. They offered more potential for new findings than anything he could hope to find by studying the people native to 2300 A.D. Traveling with them and studying them was the best chance (92% to be exact) he had to meet his primary directive.

But if became stranded in another time, a possibility with a 46% likelihood, it would become impossible to report back to the Motherbrain and his findings would accomplish little.

“I think that is enough for temporary power usage,” Robo reported. “I just need to move the system over to the secondary system.” He moved back to the access panel and switched the programming.

…

The lights throughout the corridor blinked on. Crono jumped to his feet and began propping doors open. They didn’t actually need to be opened as they seemed to do this on their own as he approached. So he just blocked the doorways with wall fragments to prevent them from closing in the future.

He headed through an inner laboratory to get to another door on the other side. He jumped back, startled when a blue spiraling gate materialized in front of him. He pulled the gate key from his pocket and it too was glowing. Well, that was easy!

“Marle!” he called excitedly, running back to the north end of the complex. “I think I found it!”

He nearly ran into Lucca as she climbed down a ladder.

“Lucca! I found it. We just have to find Marle and we can get out of here.”

Marle materialized as if summoned.

Lucca turned to the android. “We really appreciate your help Robo.”

“Yeah!” Marle echoed enthusiastically, “We probably would have starved had you not been here to fix everything for us.”

“Guess this is it!” Crono said offering his hand in farewell to the android. Robo did not take his offered hand, but instead turned back to Lucca.

“Lucca, I have made my lokinge,” the robot stated.

“Your decision? That was fast,” she commented.

“I would like to come with you,” he announced.

“Pardon?” Lucca was the first to recover.

“There’s nothing relike for me here,” he explained. “I would like to come with you. You astored me and I would like to return the favor. And I believe I will be able to serve a more useful entente if I come with you than if I remain here.”

“All right by me!” Lucca exclaimed. “Any objections?”

Crono shook his head and Marle shrugged.

“Welcome to the merry band of insane time travelers foolishly bent on saving the world,” Lucca laughed.

“Where do you think it’ll take us?” Marle asked, as they entered the laboratory.

“Who cares? This place stinks anyways right?” Lucca mocked Marle’s earlier words.

“Hey! That’s mean,” Marle objected.

“Let’s get out of here,” Crono interrupted, eager to be off before the girls started snapping at one another again.

Crono approached the gate with the gate key in hand and it rapidly expanded into the swirling blue vortex. He stepped into it without hesitation. Was he actually getting used to this?

Chapter Text

Marle fell from the portal and actually managed to land on her feet, disturbing the swirling mists that hovered just above the ground. She looked around completely at a loss as to where or when they were. The impossibly smooth earth went on and on as far as she could see, never changing, covered in the hazy mists. Everything seemed to be dimly lit, but Marle could not determine where the light was coming from.

“Fascinating,” Robo commented. “Once through the event horizon there was a constant magnetic flux, but no inertial effects. Yet visually, it atewed at though we were accelerating. He turned toward Lucca, “And you say there were only small amounts of tachyons detected?”

Lucca nodded.

“Perhaps the tachyons that were detected were only the ones that leaked out through the gaps when the portal was apert. Perhaps a larger body of tachyons or protonic matter resides within the inter-dimensional space.”

“You’re actually suggesting that the source of the portal comes from within the vortex!” Lucca exclaimed. “But then, how are we able to open them from the outside?”

“I can’t decide which of them is worse,” Crono commented to Marle who giggled.

“I think it’s a good thing that Lucca found someone to share her passion for figuring out how the world works,” Marle countered with a smile.

Robo and Lucca continued their scientific meanderings hardly noticing the realm around them.

“So when do you think we are now?” Marle asked Crono, gesturing in the distance. Crono gazed into the mists, but there was absolutely nothing to see – no stars or moon in the sky, no terrain.

“Maybe somewhere indoors?” he guessed.

“It’s an awfully big room then,” Marle said in response.

“Wow, this place is more depressing than the future,” Lucca commented, finally bringing her attention to where they were. “At least the apocalypse had terrain and weather.”

“I don’t know. I think it feels peaceful,” Marle disagreed.

“If you say so,” Lucca said with a sigh. Marle wilted, worried that her new friend was irritated with her for contradicting her.

“Sensors detect a human life sign in this dressyngis,” Robo reported, pointing in the distance.

“Just one?” Lucca asked.

“Affirmative.”

“Lead the way,” Crono gestured for the robot to take point.

Marle had only taken a few steps before she could see a light in the distance. As they got closer, she quickly realized it was a street lamp just like the ones that had been installed a few years ago in Truce. Except this one was much taller. Underneath the lamp was a dusty old man with a neatly trimmed white mustache. He wore a brown suit with a matching bowler had. He appeared to be leaning on a cane, asleep.

“Hello?” Marle called out as they approached.

The old man jumped awake.

“Wha-? Oh! Travelers! Welcome,” he said warmly.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I am the Keeper of this realm, which just means I’m an old man who’s been here too long. When are you from?”

“We are from circa 1000 A.D.” Lucca explained gesturing to the three of them. “I’m Lucca. This is Crono and Marle. And Robo came from 2300 A.D.”

“How did we get here?” Marle asked.

“The gate you entered was unstable – it had more than one destination. Not knowing where to send you – you came here, to the place of least resistance.”

“So what is this place?” Lucca asked.

“The End of Time.”

“Can we leave?”

“Of course, by going through one of the many gates that inhabit this plane.”

“How many are there?”

“I am not so arrogant as to believe that I know where they all are. But I believe there are currently three or four that will aid you in your mission.”

“How do you know about our mission?” Lucca asked suspiciously.

“If you stay here long enough, you come to understand the flow of time.”

“What does that mean?” Lucca asked.

“That you foresee certain events?” Marle guessed.

“No, I see the present. Just glimpses really.”

“And what time is your present?” Crono asked.

“All of them. They are all happening right now. And always in a state of flux.”

“But…” Lucca objected.

The old man smiled, “Don’t try to understand it.”

“I try to understand everything,” Lucca grumbled.

“I know,” he said with another smile.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“I meant absolutely no offense,” he said, unruffled.

“So could one of these gates happen to get us back to the year 1000?” Crono quickly interjected before Lucca could respond.

“Yes, but before you leave, you should explore the room behind you.”

“What room?” Lucca asked. The trio turned around and sure enough there was a wooden gate.

“How did that get there?!” she demanded. “It wasn’t there before. Robo, that wasn’t there before was it?”

“I did not detect it, no,” Robo confirmed.

“Come on Lucca,” Crono encouraged. “I suspect trying to understand this place is just going to give us a headache.”

She grunted, but followed. Marle and Robo brought up the rear.

“Robo? May I ask you a few questions? I have never before had the pleasure of meeting one of your kind,” the old man asked.

“Certainly,” the machine replied cordially and turned back.

Lucca hung back biting her lower lip, glancing at the android. Marle grinned at the sudden protectiveness in her new friend.

“I promise not to hurt him Lucca,” the keeper reassured, waving her forward.

“You had better not! He took me forever to repair!” she called back.

…

“We should probably start with laps,” a strange voice stated.

“What?” Crono asked. He stepped further into the room towards what looked like a magnificent white stallion. He glanced around looking for the speaker. But no one else occupied the fenced off area.

“Walk three laps around the outside perimeter of this room,” the horse said. Crono’s eyes widened with surprise.

“How are you able to speak?” Crono asked.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Lucca demanded.

“I’m Spekkio! I’m the Master of War! And I speak the same way you do.”

Crono held himself back, not knowing what to make of the creature.

“So why do we have to run laps?” Marle questioned.

“Not run. Walk! And to learn magic of course!”

“Magic?” Lucca repeated skeptically.

“Yes, magic.”

“I thought humans couldn’t do magic,” Crono objected.

“How will running laps teach us magic?” Marle asked simultaneously.

“Just because an ability has been forgotten does not mean that the ability is gone.”

“And we can learn it?” Lucca asked, skepticism still dripping from her voice.

“You are strong of will. That is why to old one let you through,” he explained.

“I still don’t see how running laps will teach us magic…” Marle said.

“Walking… And you won’t. Not until you do it. So let’s go!!”

Lucca turned to Crono rolling her eyes. He shrugged and started walking. She sighed audibly and fell in behind him with Marle bringing up the rear.

“Ah-ah-ah! No cheating!” Spekkio boomed.

“How are we cheating? You said we had to walk laps,” Marle insisted.

“Clockwise laps.”

“You never said that!” Lucca complained.

“Didn’t I?”

Crono turned around and followed the two girls. They had made it about halfway around the large arena when Spekkio started speaking of magic.

“Long before you were born,” Spekkio began, his voice booming in the square, “there was a kingdom where magic flourished. Everyone there could use it! They had elemental, telekinetic, mind magic, pretty much anything you can think of. They learned to store and channel the energy of the sun and used it to make amazing devices and accomplish impossible feats. But in time, people began to abuse their powers. They used it to gain more life and more power – to raise themselves above others. It got so bad the civilization destroyed itself. After they burned their kingdom literally to the ground, magic was forbidden. Then it faded to legend and myth.”

Crono shivered, goose bumps rising on his arms. Marle absently rubbed her arms as well. He glanced at Lucca to see if she was feeling to too. Her hands were on fire.

“Lucca!” Crono ran forward beating out the flames. Lucca screamed in sudden panic. The flame disappeared immediately.

“What the hell is going on?!” Lucca demanded marching toward the white stallion.

“That was your magic.”

“I don’t want magic that’s going to burn me!”

“It didn’t burn you. It’s your magic. It can’t burn you. At least, not that way. There are ways to burn yourself out of course, but you won’t here,” the beast rambled unconcerned.

Crono and Lucca both checked her hands frantically for burns and scarring, but there was nothing. He forced himself to take a deep breath.

“I guess it really was your magic,” he said uncertainly.

“The flames formed because elemental energy is flowing freely through you. Miss Goofy Glasses here was the first, but something similar will happen to both of you as well. I believe you were starting to feel the effects.”

“You should continue with the laps,” he continued. “The process of unlocking your potential has just begun. It needs to finish. Leaving it halfway done can be dangerous.”

“How do you know we even want magic?” Lucca objected.

“Are you saying that you do not?”

Silence permeated the arena.

“I thought so,” Spekkio chuckled. “So let us begin again. Three laps!”

Crono continued to follow the girls, suddenly nervous. He kept glancing down at his own hands expecting to see them burning. But nothing of the sort occurred.

Marle gasped and Crono jerked his head up to see a series of ice crystals dancing merrily between her hands.

“Don’t stop moving!” Spekkio ordered. Only at that moment had Crono realized that they had all three stopped to watch to spectacle.

He forced himself to keep moving, more and more anxious as nothing happened. Did he not have his own magic? But then the shivering came back with a vengeance – feeling more like a burning itch just under his skin. He couldn’t stand it.

‘Push it out!’ a voice within his head directed, ‘You are not ready to contain it.’ So Crono imagined pushing the sensation into his hands. A bright blue electrical arc jumped from his hands. He jerked his head back away from it.

“Keep moving!” Spekkio reminded him again.

Crono did as directed, though putting one foot in front of the other ranked rather low on his priority list as the crackling energy continued to shoot back and forth as he ‘pushed’ the tingling burning sensation out through his hands.

“That is enough,” Spekkio declared.

“I don’t feel any different,” Marle objected.

“And you shouldn’t. Nothing about you has been changed.”

Crono attempted to call forth the lightning again, but nothing happened.

“Why can’t I do it again?” he asked.

“You have to learn how to channel the energy yourself. I was doing much of the work for you. I removed years of blockages that have formed – it’s easier to do while you are moving. I can see more clearly where they are. To make sure all the passages were clear and ready for you to learn, I channeled energy through you, which you each saw and experienced as fire, ice, and lightning.”

“So it wasn’t our magic at all,” Lucca said disappointed.

“No! That was purely your magic! I just brought it to the surface.”

“That’s why we had to walk laps!” Marle said belatedly.

Spekkio nodded. “Yes. Now that the passages are clear it will become much easier for you to learn to call forth the elemental magic yourself.”

“Let’s get started then!” Marle cried enthusiastically.

Spekkio shook his head.

“You’ve had enough for one day. Take a break. Sleep if you want.”

…

“What are my companions doing?” the robot inquired.

“They are learning magic.”

“Magic? According to the Second Law of Thermodynamics creating energy from nothing is impossible and as magic would require this, magic should be impossible as well.”

The old man chuckled. “I cannot argue the science with you my friend. Though I suspect magic does follow the rules of nature for it is a part of nature. And I assure you magic is not creating energy. Perhaps it is your definition or idea of what magic is that is inaccurate.”

“That is possible. Is there a reason that you held me back? Is there a reason that you did not want me to learn magic with my companions?”

“I’m sorry Robo, but you are not physiologically capable of magic.”

“There is nothing for you to be sorry for sir.”

“Many that I have encountered have greatly coveted the skill.”

“I will admit, that I am curious as to how something like magic can exist, but I do not need the ability itself to be able to study it. And I have other skills to bring to bear.”

“There is wisdom in what you say.”

“Would you be so kind as to explain what makes my statement wise? Wisdom is a human quality that robot kind has been unable to emulate.”

“But has been attempting to, I take it?”

The android nodded, “Without success.”

“Wisdom is not something you can teach to even humans, my friend. So I expect it’s not something that can be programmed in either. It is something that comes after a lot of experience, usually rife with mistakes. I very much doubt that humans have a monopoly on it however.”

“Do you believe that robots can make mistakes and develop wisdom?”

“I believe all things are possible,” the old man encouraged. “You have the ability to learn?”

“My programming is designed to be adaptive,” Robo confirmed.

“Then I don’t see why you cannot learn to be wise. Though it may take a long time.”

The wooden gate opened with a pop revealing Robo’s three human companions.

“You were not gone very long,” Robo commented. The android assumed that learning magic was a skill that would take a certain time investment.

“Robo, what are you talking about?” Marle asked. “It’s been hours!”

“Feels like it’s been hours,” Crono agreed.

Robo attempted to verify this observation, but his chronometers appeared to be offline. He began running diagnostics trying to determine the cause of the problem, but all of his systems seemed to be in working order.

“A few hours still does not seem like enough to learn the art of magic,” the robot declared.

“Yeah, the ‘Master of War’ insists that we take a break,” Lucca mocked.

“Rest is sometimes necessary,” the robot observed. “Perhaps this master is correct.”

“Don’t take his side Robo,” Lucca begged. “If we’re going to be friends, you have to learn to take my side.”

“I see.”

Crono laughed. “Don’t listen to her Robo. Stop trying to misguide him Lucca! He takes everything you say literally.”

“Misguide?” Lucca repeated innocently. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I am afraid that I don’t understand. Is there another way other than literally to interpret such statements?”

“Yes, Lucca here, for example, is an expert on sarcasm,” Crono explained. “Sometimes, she means the exact opposite of what she says.”

“How does one tell the difference?”

“Tone of voice,” Marle filled in, “Let me show you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said normally. “Versus,” and she repeated the statement with a higher pitch and emphasis on the ‘no’ and ‘what’.

“Can you hear the difference?” Marle asked, returning to her normal inflection.

“Yes, I believe I can.”

“And just so you know Robo, a real friend doesn’t always agree with you. A real friend tells you what they honestly think,” Crono added.

“Understood.”

“You guys are no fun!” Lucca complained. “How am I going to build a robot army if I can’t get Robo here to agree with me all the time?”

“That was sarcasm,” the robot concluded.

“Yes, it was!” Marle agreed. “You learn quickly!”

“My programming was designed to be adaptive,” he said again.

…

“Today, we will begin by washing the fence,” Spekkio announced as the trio entered the arena.

“Why?” Lucca asked.

“You will understand when it’s done.”

Buckets of soapy water materialized about a foot from the fence in three different locations. Crono and Marle moved forward obediently. Lucca sighed loudly before following suit. And she began scrubbing. It was slow work cutting through grime and rust. How had the structure become so filthy in this realm of nothingness?

“There are four magical elements,” Spekkio explained. “Water, fire, light, and shadow. Not just magic, but everything is based on the balance of these four elements. As individuals, we often have a stronger affinity to one of the elements. As you may have already guessed, goofy glasses is fire.”

“I have a name you know!” Lucca objected.

“You with the ponytail, you’re water,” Spekkio continued, ignoring the interruption.

“And punk hair-do, you’re light.”

Lucca had fallen into a rhythm, tackling each fence post after the next.

“Light comes from the sun. It is the source of all energy and life. Shadow is death, but without death, life could not be. Light simply cannot exist without shadow.”

“Water is a vehicle – flow of the life blood. Water is a natural healer, but can erode away just about anything as well. Fire is the inner passion – the will to survive. But if the passion burns unrestrained, things tend to turn to ash. Water quenches fire just as fire vaporizes water.”

After his short explanation, Spekkio grew silent. He just stood there and watched them. Lucca could feel his wild eyes on the back on her neck.

“You wanna help?” she asked.

“No,” he said flippantly.

“Gee, thanks!” Lucca sighed, but continued to scrub. Her progress came to a halt as she encountered a particularly stubborn post, caked with red and orange rust. She became completely absorbed in the obstacle in front of her – scrubbing and cutting.

She jerked her hand back in pain. Glancing at her finger there was a small thin metal splinter. Her eyes watered at the unexpected pain. She tried to wipe away the tears. The splinter was merely a nuisance. But the salt water only continued to flow. She couldn’t hold back the sudden torrent. What was the matter with her?

An image of her mother in her wheel chair flashed through her mind and suddenly her emotions caught up with her physical outpouring. She had never been able to shake the thought that the accident had been her fault. She took her anger and sudden guilt out on the fence. And as she washed away the rust, to show the shining silver post underneath the grime, she imagined her feelings being washed away as well. And she felt strangely at peace.

“You’ve had enough for one day,” Spekkio’s voice broke through her thought process. “Take a break. Sleep if you want.”

Lucca shook herself out of her reverie. She couldn’t remember what she had just been thinking about. She touched her own cheek and her hand came away wet. Had she been crying?

“Wait! What was the point of washing the fence?” she demanded.

“You weren’t washing a fence.”

“Like hell I wasn’t!”

“No, the fence is only symbolic. You were cleansing your inner self. Purging yourself of emotional baggage that you have collected over the years.”

“I don’t think it worked!” Lucca declared hotly.

Spekkio cackled in amusement.

“You do have a lot of baggage!” the boar taunted. “All things in small steps. You can work on it more tomorrow.”

…

“He’s so pretty! Doesn’t seem to fit for a Master of War. Seems too gentle,” Marle whispered to Crono pointing to the great white heron that was Spekkio. Crono looked puzzled.

“I don’t know if ‘pretty’ is the word I would choose. And why would a stallion be too gentle for a Master of War?”

“Stallion?” Marle asked, confused, “but he’s a bird. A heron! See those gorgeous white wings?” She insisted. Crono stared at her in amazement.

“Hey Lucca!” Marle called. “What does Spekkio look like?”

“Why are you asking me? You can see him well enough!” She threw glares at the self-proclaimed ‘Master’ of War.

“Just humor us!” Crono encouraged. Lucca sighed.

“He looks like some kind of wild boar. He’s got these tusks and he always looks like he’s fuming about something.”

“We all see something different!” Marle spoke aloud, clearly amazed.

“We do?” Lucca asked, startled.

“Yeah. Marle sees a bird and I see a horse.”

The magical creature approached the trio.

“What you see is merely a reflection of yourself,” the magician explained.

“I’m a boar?!” Lucca raged.

“Yes,” he said with a cackle. Lucca fumed. Marle tried hard to stifle her own laughter, but she couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, laugh it up guys! You won’t be laughing when this fuming boar starts throwing flames at you!” And she stalked off.

“Lucca!” Marle called after her as she left the arena. “We were only teasing!”

…

“Today, we will be meditating. You should take a seat on the ground,” Spekkio instructed.

“Are we ever actually going to be doing any magic?” Marle asked.

“Yes.”

The princess sighed, but obediently sat down.

“Have patience,” Crono whispered to her. “My sword master used to make me do similar exercises all the time.”

“What will be meditating on?” Crono asked loudly.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” he repeated.

“Yes, clear your mind of all things and think of nothing.”

Crono found this strangely difficult. He pictured an empty black field in his mind’s eye, but random thoughts kept invading. In the past, he had always had something, a symbol or a visualization of his exercises, to focus his concentration and serve as a barrier against stray thoughts.

Lucca broke into laughter and Crono found himself grinning, wondering what she was thinking of.

“The secret to emptying the mind is to be completely aware. Concentrate on what your toes are feeling, what your ears are hearing. Don’t think about any of it. Just feel the reality around you.”

Crono attempted to follow this advice by focusing on his breathing. He felt the rise and fall of his chest as his lungs filled with air. He extended his awareness to his arms and legs. Each one seemed to tingle slightly as he brought each limb to his attention. He could hear the distant babbling of a fountain and a bird singing.

There were no birds though, his mind objected. There couldn’t be. This place was empty, filled only with mist.

Too late, Crono attempted to quash the thought. And with a sigh, he attempted to begin again, but it wasn’t long before another thought invaded. This was hard!

“You’ve had enough for one day,” Spekkio announced after what felt like an eternity. “Take a break. Sleep if you want.”

…

“Robo, I was wrong to say that you are not capable of magic,” the old man stated.

“But from what I understand, I am not,” the robot replied.

“You have your own brand of magic.”

“To what are you referring to?”

“You have an ability to create electricity do you not? Laser beams? And you can detect objects at a distance even if they are outside your visual range.”

“It is not magic.”

“It is to someone that does not understand it.”

“But that is because their perception is flawed. Not because I actually have magic.”

“Perception is reality.”

This statement did not compute. A contradiction could not exist. And Robo had many recorded instances of multiple personas having different perceptions, often directly opposed to one another. They both could not be true at the same time. And oftentimes, in Robo’s observations the physical reality of a situation was in direct contradiction with what humans perceived it to be.

The old man laughed. “I can see you’re having trouble with that one. Think of it this way. An individual’s perception is his own reality. Just as your perception is your reality because you can know nothing else. You cannot see a reality that is beyond your own perception.”

“But a human’s perception can change,” the robot objected. The old man smiled.

“True.”

“I did not write my own programming, which is in essence how I perceive things.”

“Nor did your companions determine their own nature,” he added.

“But they have the ability to change it,” Robo countered.

“And you believe that you do not?”

“I am uncertain,” Robo said as his processor went to work trying to unravel this latest conundrum.

…

“I don’t suppose the lesson of the day includes any actual magic?” Lucca asked without any hope.

“All the lessons have included actual magic,” Spekkio countered gleefully.

“I guess that means no,” Lucca grumbled.

“So what are we doing?” Crono asked.

“Building a wall!” their teacher exclaimed, while nodding toward a pile of bricks and building materials that had just appeared.

“Building a wall?” Marle echoed.

“Yup!”

Lucca knew better than to ask why at this point, so she just made her way to her own corner to take stock of what she had to work with. She had a huge pile of impossibly colored bricks, a small level, a long piece of thin string, a tape measure, a bucket of mortar, and a trowel.

A level? Was that really necessary? The ground in this place was so impossibly smooth she didn’t see how it would even be possible to create a layer that was not perfectly flat. But then, maybe the brightly colored bricks weren’t all that even. Still, did he really expect her to be that precise? She was certain the wall she created was going to vanish the second the exercise was completed.

“How wide does it need to be?” Crono asked.

“It should be about as wide as you are tall, plus the width of a doorway.”

Lucca measured out the required 2.5 metras and placed a blue brick at either end, then taped the string on front side of each brick. The string would insure that her first row remained straight and relatively even.

She turned to check how her friends were doing on this ridiculous task. Neither had started. They both were watching her.

“What?” she asked, feeling self-conscious.

“You obviously know what you are doing,” Marle explained. “I do not. Thought I would collect some pointers before I began.”

“Glad I could help, I guess.”

Lucca used the level to make sure each brick was on flat surface, and that the line itself was level. Then she slathered mortar onto one end piece and pushed it firmly into the ground.

One down… only a few hundred more to go!

She slathered a second brick, this one yellow, on the bottom and one short side and aligned it with the first using the string. She checked with the level to be certain that the thing was still flat. Then she started the assembly line process of laying one brick after another. She made the first row twelve bricks across, before she started the second layer.

She got all the way to the fourth layer when she realized it would go a lot faster if she only cemented the bottom of each brick, and left off the side mortar. Sure, the wall would be unstable, but it would remain intact for the required three seconds.

She pulled another brick, slathered it up on only the one side and placed it, satisfied that once she got a rhythm going, she’d be done in half the time.

“No cheating! I’m watching!” the beast said in singsong voice right in her ear. Lucca jumped a mile.

“Don’t you realize that we have important things to be doing?” she replied in frustration.

“And do you think magic will help you succeed in these tasks?”

“Probably,” she conceded. Which was why she thought they should be learning some!

“Then you must do things my way. I am the Master of War and the only one who can teach you what you wish to learn!”

“We’ll never succeed if you have us here washing fences, building walls, or meditating for hours on end!”

“You are quite a fiery one! Even for someone with an affinity to the element,” Spekkio grinned. “Let me ask you a question, how long do you think you’ve been here?”

Lucca had no answer to this question. It had been days. Maybe a week or two.

“Have you felt tired? Or even hungry?”

Lucca was taken aback by these questions. The answer was no to both, but how was that possible?

“Do you think magic is easy to control?” he asked, changing gears on her completely.

“No?” she guessed.

“I’ve been teaching you discipline and patience. If you master your emotions you will control the magic. If your emotions are your master then the magic will control you. How do you think that will end?”

Lucca did not bother to answer the rhetorical question. Instead, she returned to the task of building the pointless wall. She forced herself to pay attention to the details. The bricks needed to line up and she needed to maintain an even thickness of mortar between them, even though she still thought it was a complete waste of time. The last two layers were particularly stubborn. Her mortar was drying out and the mortar was hard to spread evenly so the bricks refused to stay level.

“Time to return to your meditation,” Spekkio directed just has she placed the last brick.

Lucca sighed. Her arms ached and she had been hoping for a break once the wall was finished. One would think that sitting and thinking about nothing wouldn’t require a lot of energy, but you had to focus and concentrate so intensely that it was just as mentally exhausting as building the wall had been physically.

She sat down with eyes closed and emptied her mind, made herself aware only of the pulsing of her own heart.

Wow, this was strangely easy today. Maybe there was something to be said for physical exhaustion. ‘Damn it!’ she inwardly cursed, forcing her mental state back to a blank slate.

“Feel the wall,” Spekkio suggested.

Lucca pictured the multi-colored wall in her head. Did he want her to use the wall as a barrier against stray thoughts? That somehow felt like cheating as it gave her something tangible to think about.

“No, don’t visualize it,” he interrupted. “Feel what it means to build a wall.”

Lucca understood what he meant. Now that she had spent hours upon hours building the blasted thing, that wall was a part of her. She couldn’t just visualize a wall – she had to internalize the barrier.

The meditation still did not go perfectly. But Lucca managed longer periods of time between invading thoughts, but her attention was slipping and it was getting to be more difficult again.

“Very well done,” he said.

“What? Are you offering actual praise?” Lucca asked in disbelief. The Master of War always seemed to take delight at her frustration. He certainly would never offer any praise.

“You’ve had enough for one day,” was all he said. “Take a break. Sleep if you want.”

…

“Robo? Can you tell me how much time we’ve been here?” Lucca asked him.

“I regret to enforme you that my chronometers have not been weorking since we ariued in this realm. I theorize that we are in some kind of stasis field that prevents time from passing.”

“Then how can we do anything? How can we talk to one another or try to do things? How does electricity travel through your circuits? Does that not all require time to work correctly?”

“I do not have enough data to present a possible glose at this time.”

“Yeah, me neither. And I thought that time travel made my head hurt!”

“Would you like me to ginnen gathering relevant pieces of information?”

“Sure! Why not?”

“The main disadvantage would be that it would take a lot of processing feré that may cause my system to huly down, increasing my reaction time by approximately 0.082 seconds.”

Lucca laughed. “I did not mean that as a question Robo,” she explained patiently. “’Why not?’ is sometimes an expression that basically means ‘I don’t see a reason not to give it a try, so go for it.’”

“I see,” Robo said. “I will then ginnen collecting data.”

“I look forward to your hearing your findings,” Lucca said with a smile.

…

Marle sat down and crossed her legs. She had been feeling eager and impatient to learn magic, but now she had resigned herself to the fact that it would happen whenever it happened. There was nothing she could do to make Spekkio decide to teach her sooner.

Instead, she tried to let herself feel the peaceful calm that she had felt when they had first arrived. No words or pictures, no thoughts. She just was. And all at once it felt as if her internal world came together into one simple strand – almost like everything that was her just physically snapped into place. Her mental self just floated in complete awareness.

“You’re ready,” he declared, jarring Marle out of her contemplation.

“I am?” she asked, trying not to seem too excited.

“You can now focus with a perfect clarity. You are ready to begin.”

“Marle, close your eyes now. Do the same exercise you were just doing moments before. Feel that internal centering. Good. Now, expand your awareness outward in a sphere. Just a little. Feel the vibrations in the air around you and in the ground beneath you. Now pull those threads, that energy, towards you.”

“But, I was taught to pull it from within.”

“You can pull it from within, but the amount of energy you can get is limited and it will leave you exhausted. And while you’re healing that may not always be a big deal, but when you’re in the heat of battle that’s not the time to collapse. And if you go too far, it can also be dangerous. If you pull too much of your life essence all at once, your body loses the ability to replenish all of it. It is safer and more efficient to use the resources around you.”

Marle was surprised at how simple it was to extend her awareness. She could feel the energy and water in the air, but she had no idea how to bring it in.

“Just imagine it coming toward you,” Spekkio directed.

She knew when she had succeeded as her hair stood on end like she had suddenly been electrified. Her skin tingled and itched, worse than Lucca’s ether.

Her friends gasped. She opened her eyes to see what the big deal was. She levitated inches off the ground. She immediately lost all focus and fell hard back down to the ground. The force of impact shot painfully up her spine and she lost her hold on the magical energies she had just collected.

Spekkio chuckled.

“I am glad that my injury and mishaps bring such amusement to you,” Marle replied, annoyed. The white heron seemed to shrug.

“I am the Master of War,” he said as if that explained everything. “Now, did you feel the energy around you?”

Marle nodded grumpily.

“I want you to direct that energy with your mind just as you do when you use your aura to heal a person.”

“Where do you want me to send it?”

“At me!”

Marle closed her eyes and this time she was very aware the second her feet left the ground. She allowed the prickling to build up. When she could no longer stand it, she pushed it outward and away.

She felt the sharp cold of ice crystals at her hands for a split second, but they were already zooming away. She opened her eyes to watch the small icy projectiles launch towards Spekkio.

“Is that it?” Marle asked, slightly disappointed. She had only conjured a few small ice crystals.

Spekkio chuckled. “Fear not, this is just the beginning. As you use it, your power will grow. Be careful not to overdo it right now. You’re using muscles you’ve never before even stretched.”

“What happens if we go too far?” Crono asked.

“You burn yourself out. That can’t happen here though.”

“Why not?”

“I won’t let it,” he stated.

Marle wondered what would happen when he was not there.

“Pony-tail,” he interrupted her thoughts. “I want you to teach the swordsman what you just learned,” he directed.

What? How could she teach someone what she had just learned? It was all happening internally and she barely understood what was happening herself. What did Spekkio expect her to do?

Spekkio had turned his attention to Lucca, but conjuring small flames did not come nearly as easily to her fiery friend as ice crystals came to Marle. She took secret pleasure in the fact that she understood something better than the inventor.

“Marle?” Crono asked, pulling her attention back to him. Marle shook herself out of her thoughts. How would she teach him to mentally focus?

“Can you center yourself?” Marle asked after a moment.

“Marle, I don’t even know what the means,” Crono said with a grin.

“Here, sit down and close your eyes,” she instructed. He complied.

“Externally, you have one self – your physical being. Internally, you have multiple selves or inner voices.”

“Inner voices?” he repeated.

“I think so – at least that’s how it feels to me. How many voices are there when you are thinking?”

“One?” he suggested, looking at her strangely.

“Really? I think I have three,” she said with a blush.

“Anyway,” she continued trying to bury her embarrassment, “centering yourself is making all of your beings come together as one.”

“Okay…” he said non-committally, “how do I do that?”

“I think the reason we aren’t supposed to think about anything when we meditate, is that it distracts one or more of your inner selves and makes it harder to bring them together.”

“Makes sense,” he agreed. She knew he still had no idea how to center himself.

“Inside you are rhythms – feel for them. They are beating in different times.”

He nodded.

“Those are your separate selves. Imagine bringing them into sync with one another.”

She watched him breathing, with eyes tightly closed for a long moment. She could not tell what progress he was making, if any. How did Spekkio know when she had succeeded? He always said something immediately when she had.

Crono opened his eyes, shaking his head. “I don’t think it’s working.”

“Hold up your hand, open towards me,” she directed. She gently pressed her own hand to his. “Now, close your eyes and go back into contemplation.”

She did not tell him what she intended. She didn’t want him to have any expectations. It probably wouldn’t work, but she remembered her mother doing this with her when she was young to scare away nightmares.

She channeled a small line of energy into his hand. He jerked away.

“Marle! That’s cold!” he objected.

“Sorry, I don’t know how to make it not cold. Are you ready this time?”

“If I must be…”

She focused the energy around and through him all at once. Her head spun as her vision doubled. She could see him through her own eyes. But she could see herself through his. Crono’s eyes were wide with surprise. They were connected, linked together.

The visions overwhelmed her senses. She panicked and tried to pull back, but she was caught in a net of her own making. On instinct, she mentally lashed out. The connection broke, but Crono collapsed.

“Crono!” she cried coming to his side. Lucca was there a second later.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Where did you learn that?” Spekkio interrupted. She expected him to be angry, but he seemed only amused.

“I-I…” she stuttered.

Spekkio reached out with a wing, and pressed a single feather to Crono’s forehead. His eyes blinked open immediately and he sat up, clutching his head.

“Crono!” Marle clutched at his shoulder. “I’m sorry!”

He stared at her blankly. Marle’s insides turned to ice.

“He will be fine young one,” Spekkio reassured. “Just give him a moment. His mind is in disarray and needs to sort itself out.”

“Now tell me, where did you learn to link?”

“Link?” she repeated dumbly.

“Yes, link,” he said again. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “My mother would do something like this…”

“And she taught you?” he asked.

Marle shook her head. “No, she just would take my hand and she would banish my nightmares. I thought I could do something similar.”

“To what purpose?”

“I was… I was trying to show Crono what centering looked like,” she explained.

The heron seemed to grin. “Interesting strategy!” he exclaimed. “Let’s try it again!”

“But…” she tried to object. She did not want to hurt Crono again.

“It’s okay Marle,” Crono broke in. She turned to him, relief flooding through her as he spoke. “I’m fine,” he insisted. “Got to get back on the horse right?”

“Did it hurt?” she asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he stated. Which of course, meant that it had.

“I’m sorry,” she said meekly.

“For this exercise we need a deeper link than is typically used, but probably not as deep as you went,” he explained.

Marle blushed in embarrassment.

“Your technique was perfect,” Spekkio reassured. “You just channeled too much energy. This is an exercise that needs only the smallest trickle, but it needs precision.”

“Take hands. You actually don’t need to be touching, but it makes it easier.”

Marle reluctantly took Crono’s offered hand.

“Now ponytail, take the smallest amount of energy that you can and channel it around and through his hand just like you did before.”

She complied and she felt the connection, but she no longer could see through his eyes.

“Swordsman, can you see ponytail’s aura?” Spekkio asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Okay ponytail, show us what you got,” he directed.

Marle tried to block all thoughts from her mind. This was suddenly was difficult once again as guilty and shaken as she felt.

Just set it aside a voice in her head suggested. The voice sounded suspiciously like Spekkio.

Suddenly, the suggestion didn’t seem quite so impossible. She gently laid her conflicting feelings to the side and then pulled everything together.

Crono gasped. Marle grinned.

“Now before we give spikey his turn, I want you slightly deepen the link. Just a bit. Yes, that’s it.”

“Swordsman, can you see yourself and your own aura?”

He nodded.

“You know what you have to do.”

Marle watched his progress, excited that she could finally do so.

Crono’s aura, or perhaps it was more accurate to say his auras, as there were many, contained the warmth of the Sun. It was filled with orange reds and yellows predominantly, with splashes of blue and green. The colors danced and pulsed around one another with no rhyme or reason. Marle watched the fireworks show in fascination. The rhythms began coming closer together, pulsing as one. And then his aura turned white.

“Yes that’s it!” she cried excitedly.

Crono’s synchronized auras shattered into multiple colors once again.

“Marle!” he complained.

“Sorry,” she said contritely.

Crono was able to come to the alignment much faster the second time around.

“Alright Crono, I believe you were listening earlier. You know what to do?”

He held out a hand as his aura got brighter and brighter. She almost had to look away. And then it all came together and moved like a wave down his arms and fingertips rushing out as blue lightning. Lucca clapped. Marle joined in.

Crono opened his eyes and grinned brightly at her. And she saw his radiant erratic aura one more time, before she carefully withdrew her presence.

“What about you Lucca?” Marle asked. “Were you successful?”

Lucca opened her own hands and suddenly there was a dancing flame just above her palm.

“Amazing!” Marle exclaimed.

“Like you need new ways to make things catch on fire,” Crono teased.

Lucca punched him playfully in the shoulder in retaliation.

“You expect us to be able to use this ability in combat?” Crono turned to Spekkio suddenly serious once again.

“Eventually yes.”

“Isn’t meditation going to be a bit difficult in the heat of battle?” he objected.

“That’s the point of practice!” the heron responded brightly.

“But how do I not feel angry or fearful during a conflict?”

“How do you maintain your forms when fighting with the sword?”

Crono nodded.

“You’re saying that if we practice enough, it will be so automatic that it won’t matter what I’m thinking or feeling,” Crono summarized.

Marle understood this. She hadn’t stopped feeling guilty during the second exercise. Spekkio had just helped her set that feeling aside.

“You have all had more than enough for one day,” Spekkio said bringing the discussion to an end. “Take a break. Sleep if you want.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Crono said with relief. He and Lucca immediately headed for the gate. Marle hung back.

“You coming?” Crono called back.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” she explained. He nodded.

“Can we read each other’s thoughts when linked?” Marle asked once her companions had left. She had expected to be able to do so, but when connected she hadn’t been able to tell what Crono was thinking. She could only see his inner selves – which was her goal so it didn’t matter.

“No, not directly. Though you can use this to communicate. But it’s just like talking. Only, you’re talking mind to mind. And let me tell you, your mind has a much smaller filter than your mouth does so it can be hard on friendships.”

“What you’re saying is we shouldn’t do this all the time,” Marle realized.

“I wouldn’t recommend it right now, no. It can be dangerous for other reasons as well. You can alter each other’s vibrations and patterns.”

“It’s an abuse of power.”

“Not in itself. As in all things, it’s how you use it. It can also be a very intimate shared experience.”

Marle blushed at the thought of being intimate with Crono in an entirely different way.

“Which is exactly why you should not continue to link with him,” Spekkio interrupted

“What?”

“You have feelings for him yes?” Spekkio said. It was not really a question.

Marle did not deny it.

“If you link too often and you don’t know what you’re doing you can influence him.”

“And then I won’t know if he likes me because he actually likes me. Or if he likes me because I made him like me.”

“Exactly,” the heron seemed to smile.

…

Crono sat down some distance from the others and just let himself stare into the distance. His head still buzzed fuzzily. Thankfully it had stopped throbbing, but he still didn’t really want to move too much or talk really. He just sat trying to engrave every detail of the amazingly unique experience into his memory.

He heard Marle approaching. He knew it was Marle because Lucca knew him well enough to sense when he wanted to be alone and give him his space. But since his thoughts were mostly filled of her he didn’t at all mind.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked him as she sat down next to him. Just inches away.

He laughed. “Marle, I’m fine,” he reassured. “Between Lucca and Master Chiva I have been through more than my fair share of head trauma.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It was an accident,” he assured her. Truth be told, he wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. He had never experienced anything so vibrant. Her inner self, or selves rather, were made up of colors he had never actually seen before. They danced in intricate designs and patterns that made him think of the ocean. The throbbing headache was more than worth it.

“I’m glad it happened,” he said after a moment.

“You are?” she asked surprised.

“Well yeah! It was amazing. Have you ever experienced something like that?”

Marle shook her head shyly. And they both fell into silence, watching the silver mists swirl and drift.

“Strange,” Marle said after a long moment.

“What is?” Crono prompted.

“It’s just we keep having this epiphanies and realizations here. And it doesn’t faze me. You’d think it’d be exhausting.”

“But who knows how long we’re sleeping in between,” Crono pointed out.

“But I don’t know that I need to sleep!” Marle objected. “I have never worked so hard in my life, but I never feel tired. I can fall asleep whenever I close my eyes if that’s what I’m trying to do, but I can stay awake for what has to be longer than a day – maybe two or three – and never feel like I’m in need of rest.”

Crono nodded in agreement, “I think you were right about this realm.”

She turned towards him, puzzled.

“When you said this place felt peaceful,” he explained. “We are outside of time. Outside of the world. The separation from it makes you detached – everything just is.”

…

“You’re going to regret not working with this trio yourself old man,” Spekkio said. His young pupils lay littered across the ground in a deep sleep. Even the artificial life form was powered down.

“You are more adept with elemental mages than I. If they are to succeed, they will need that practical edge – not my theoretical nonsense.”

“That may be so, but you’ll still regret not having such delightful students. They learn very quickly. The girls especially.”

“I thought you said that the inventor fought you every inch of the way.”

“She does! But the way she questions everything, she’ll be the best among them. She has the potential to work with pure heat without any flames,” he explained excitedly.

The keeper did raise his eyebrows at this.

“And the princess,” Spekkio continued. “She is incredibly innovative in where and how she uses her energy reserves. She will be able to go on for much longer when her companions are ready to collapse. She figured out how to form a primitive link with the swordsman with no instruction. And did you know she already had the ability to channel her own aura to do some minor healing?”

“That’s a dangerous technique.”

“I know that! But she learned how to do that on her own! And has kept herself alive even after using it for years so she has at least some ideas of how to regulate her own energy reserves.”

“How much longer do you think they will need your instruction before they will be able to grow and learn on their own? I’m worried about them staying here too much longer.”

“Maybe a phase or two?” the creature shrugged.

“You’ve managed to train three elemental mages to basic mastery in six moons?! My best students took three to four years!”

“I am the Master of War!” The Nu said with a laugh.

…

Lucca burst out laughing as Crono’s lightning bolt missed the small fist sized rock for the sixth time. Crono glared at her.

“Want some help?” she offered with a grin.

He glared at her stubbornly before he made another attempt. The initial strike leapt from his hands, but splintered in five directions towards the silver fences. None of them hit the rock.

He sighed.

“The lightning wants to get to the ground,” Lucca explained. “It always tries to find the easiest path to do that. It moves toward the fence because the metal makes a conductive path straight to the ground, which is easier than it traveling through the air.”

“I don’t see how that helps.”

“A strike is jagged. It branches because there’s something in the air some metallic particle or water that is easier to travel through. You need to give it a path that’s easier than the fence. I would use your sword,” she suggested.

Crono drew the blade. The katana would at least launch the electricity in the right direction initially. Hopefully, it would be far enough away from the fence by then that going to the stone would be easier.

He channeled the next strike though his sword. The rock shattered into pieces. Crono grinned in satisfaction.

“Eighth time’s the charm,” Lucca said. Crono’s smile melted away as he glared at his friend again.

“Oh shut up. You don’t need to rub in that you’re way better at this than me.”

“I’m not actually,” she disagreed.

“Yes your are. You can draw pictures in the air with fire. And in your spare time you tell me how my magic works.”

“I’m not telling you about your magic Crono,” she said in frustration. “I’m telling you about lightning and electricity – something I know a fair bit about. Electricity makes sense. Electricity has rules! Did you know that body sends a lot of messages – especially the brain – with electrical signals?”

Crono shook his head knowing better than to speak during her rant.

“But magic? I don’t know anything about magic. This fire?” she practically shouted as she drew red burning circles in the air. “It still took me eight, ten or twelve trials to get it to work! I find myself distracted by questions like ‘how is it able to burn?’ There’s no fuel! It bothers me that I can do something and I have no idea how it works. Every cell in my body insists that this shouldn’t be possible. This whole place is insane! Do you really think we’ll still be able to do this when we leave this impossible realm?”

“I hope so,” Crono said absently watching Marle work with admiration. She could now create blocks of ice the size of a person, but at the moment Spekkio had her creating sheets of ice so thin that it melted if you touched it. Yesterday, she had been making needles out of ice. He couldn’t imagine ever being so precise with lightning. But then maybe he just needed to keep practicing.

…

“Robo, would you walk with me?” the old man gestured forward. The android nodded and followed.

“Where are we going?”

“I would like to show you something.”

Robo continued to follow the old man while his sensors attempted to find the boundaries of this realm, but if there were any they were outside of his range. Or perhaps, he simply could not detect the return signal without functioning chronometers.

The old man stopped and Robo followed suit at his side.

“Is there something particular about this location?” he queried.

“Why yes, there is,” the old man grinned. He struck his cane down into the ground and another time portal rapidly expanded. Robo peered into the event horizon, his sensors running wild collecting data.

“What do you sense?” the old man asked.

“There is a constant magnetic flux with a distinct repeating pattern. There are detectable amounts of tachyons and protonic matter and small amounts of ionizing radiation. This is most likely why the matter within the portal appears to be glowing. But wouldn’t that make it harmful to humans with prolonged or repeated exposure?”

“From what I understand, it is no more harmful than the sun,” he reassured.

Robo felt that it would be best to confirm that conclusion with long-term study, but the old man was correct that limited exposure should not have any lasting effects.

The old man allowed the gate to close.

“Can you still feel it?”

“Yes, there is still an ion trace of the magnetic flux. The pattern is very unique.”

“I believe the people of your time refer to it as a temporal distortion. Is it the only one you detect?”

Robo expanded his range and found another five distortions within his range.

“Each gate has similar properties, but they each have their own unique pattern like a fingerprint,” the old man explained. “If you practice, or collect enough data so to speak, you will be able to distinguish these gates from one another. And as you travel through different times, you will learn to read what era each gate leads to without going through them.”

“Thank you for your instruction. I imagine this ability will become very useful.”

“Magic,” he corrected.

“Pardon?”

“This is your own brand of magic.”

“It is not magic,” Robo insisted. “It is science and the applied use of technology.”

“Of course, but that doesn’t mean it’s not magic.”

…

“It’s time,” the boar announced.

“Time for what?”

“Time to test your skills!”

And without warning a wave of fire surged towards them. Marle brought up a shield of ice to protect them, but it quickly melted and Lucca screamed as the hot flames enveloped her.

The pain vanished so quickly, Lucca wasn’t certain she hadn’t imagined it.

Spekkio cackled evilly. “I win!” he cried delightedly. Lucca glanced towards her friends who were also huddled on the ground.

“Care for a rematch?” Crono asked coldly, jumping back to his feet.

“You’ve all had enough for one day. Take a break…”

“…Sleep if you want,” Lucca finished mockingly.

“No!” Marle cried. “We don’t need rest. We are ready now!”

The strange creature grinned.

“Very well.”

When the second wave of fire came Lucca was ready. She redirected the flames straight back towards the Master of War. Simultaneously, Marle turned her ice shield into four large lances that shot towards the beast.

Spekkio absorbed the fire and ice without flinching. Lucca threw herself to the right to avoid the block of ice that flew past her. She wailed in pain as a bolt of lightning lanced through her. Every nerve on fire, she could not move.

Crono leapt in front of her to deflect a second lightning strike before sending out a bolt of his own.

Lucca rejoined the fight with three fire balls shot off in quick succession.

Marle shrieked. Lucca turned just in time to see the other girl collapse to the floor. Lucca doubted she’d get back up.

“Crono!” Lucca shouted as she continued to shoot off fireballs. “Your sword!”

He nodded and unsheathed the blade. He channeled a blast through the blade pointed directly at Spekkio. Again the Master of War showed no outward sign that the attack affected him at all.

She kept moving despite the sudden stitch in her side – left then right, right again – anything so she was harder to hit. Waves and balls of fire leapt from her hands over and over, but she was not certain anything hit her target. All her attention remained focused on dodging the mystical projectiles coming at her.

Suddenly she realized the attacks had stopped coming. She stood still, leaning forward with her hands on her knees, panting.

“You’re ready,” he declared. “There’s nothing more I can teach you that you won’t learn better on your own.”

Lucca jerked back in surprise as the wild white boar transformed into a magnificent white stallion as Spekkio approached her childhood friend.

“Crono, the electric arc doesn’t have to come directly from you. You can call it directly from the sky if you need. This may help you keep your own position a secret should you so need. Though you can create more focused attacks if you channel the strike from yourself and it takes less energy. I am impressed at how you used your sword to direct your strikes more accurately, but don’t become dependent on it. Learn to read the air itself so you know how the strike will travel. Also remember that just as the blade aids your aim, the magic can add an extra bite to your physical strikes.”

Then Spekkio transformed himself into a long necked elegant bird with wide wings as he approached Marle who was now sitting up.

“Marle, you have shown yourself to be most innovative and precise. Your next task should be learning to heal without using your own life essence. This may be difficult because you have much to unlearn. Make it a priority. Relying on your aura can be dangerous – you are pulling from your own life force to heal others. And while you may be willing to make that sacrifice at times, it is unnecessary and your survival is needed if you are to succeed in your task.”

“Lucca,” Spekkio began turning back into the boar she was now quite familiar with. And only then did Lucca realize that he was actually using their names. “You are quite a natural. Continue to question everything and annihilate assumptions and you will be able to do things with fire that most magicians believe are completely impossible. But do practice caution. Fire is a dangerous element. And you had a problem with explosions before you ever learned any magic. Keep your temper under control.”

He turned his attention back to all three of them. Suddenly he seemed brighter, more pure.

“You guys are too much! Be sure to bring others to meet me.”

…

“Well, well, the Master of War has turned out three elemental mages in record time!” the old man greeted them.

“Do you know how much time?” Lucca asked eagerly.

He smiled. “Does it matter?”

She scowled, “I suppose not.”

“You should return to your own era. The answers you seek can be found there.”

“Can’t you just tell us?” Marle asked.

“I am just a guide. I see glimpses, but this is your journey. You must walk it yourself.”

Marle sighed, “It was worth a try.”

“Now you must hurry. The longer you remain here, the harder it will be to change that which must be changed. And remember, there are gates to every time period located here, so be sure to stop by whenever you’re in the area!”

“How do we find these gates?” Lucca asked.

“I have already shown Robo how to locate the gates both within and outside this realm.”

“Thank you,” Marle said, gripping his hands warmly in gratitude before turning back to her friends with a smile. Lucca envied her charm and social grace. Two things she herself lacked completely.

“I’m assuming you know which one will lead us to the right time?” Lucca asked.

“Affirmative.”

“Lead on then!” Crono said.

Lucca followed eagerly, excited to be heading home.

Chapter Text

The pie smelled about ready. And if there was one thing Lucille prided herself on it was her sense of smell – at least when it came to baking. She opened the rack and sure enough the pastry crust was perfectly golden. Yes, her nose was never wrong. She pulled it from the rack and placed it on the windowsill to cool. She turned to her husband and sighed at the olive green creature. If he wasn’t the handsomest imp she’d ever seen!

“Edward? Don’t you go near that pie,” she warned. He didn’t acknowledge her. He was too busy pretending to be reading the paper, but Lucille knew better. All his senses were focused on that pie. She knew he had heard her so she moved onto other chores. There was just so much to be done.

She gathered a washbasin and began filling it with hot water. She ran her pale blue fingers through it in contentment. Her water heater had just been installed two days before. She loved that it she no longer had to boil the water on the wood stove herself! Those human inventors were truly ingenious! She gathered her garments and began working. First she had to soak the clothes, scrub them clean, wring out as much water as possible, before hanging them up to dry. Laundry could be such an exhausting task. Lucille much preferred baking.

“Edward!” Lucille turned just in time to catch her husband poking fingers into the berry delicacy. He jumped like an impling caught doing something he should not. “I told you to stay away from that pie!” He grumbled a bit, but went back to his seat and back to his newspaper. And Lucille went back to doing the laundry.

A loud crash echoed from the bedroom. Her husband suddenly leapt out of his chair and stormed into the other room. Lucille was not far behind.

“Did you humans just come out of the closet?!” Edward demanded of the four strangers that towered over him. His eyes looked like they would pop from his head. She had to admit, he was far less attractive when he did that.

“Now Edward, is that any way to greet our guests?” she chastised before turning a warm smile to her unexpected guests. “My name is Lucille. And I must say my dear, you look positively famished.”

All four of them looked like they had been through a dust storm, filthy as they were. She took the young blond girl’s hand and led her to the cherry wood table that she had inherited from her grandmother. “Here, I just finished baking a fabulous berry pie – my mother’s recipe – you won’t find anything better in all of Medina! You simply must join us!”

The girl’s stomach growled audibly. Lucille laughed merrily as she quickly set the table with six small serving plates.

“Why thank you!” the girl exclaimed finally finding her voice. “My name is Marle, and this is Lucca,” she gestured to the girl standing beside her with glasses and the most peculiar helmet. “This is Crono,” she said gesturing to her fiery redheaded companion. “And this,” she pointed to the man in the strange metal suit, “is Robo.” Lucille forced herself not to stare. Such ogling was rude.

“A pleasure to meet you all. Let me introduce you to my husband, Edward.”

“Lucille! They just came out of the closet!” he spluttered, “Scram!”

“Edward, calm down. These implings look like they’ve come from a long journey. And they are starving! They must eat.” She turned to her guests, “Now please, sit with us.” The four adventurers awkwardly complied. There was simply no way she would allow guests to leave without proper food! Edward though, looked as if he wanted to attack something. She gave each visitor a large slice of her still warm pie, but the gold man held up an arm to forestall her service.

“Thank you Madam, but I do not require oral sustenance. Though, I do appreciate your offer of hospitality,” he explained.

“You are a polite thing whatever you are,” Lucille said as she placed the slice before her husband who, amazingly, didn’t seem to notice the sweet confection.

“Edward, sit before you give yourself a seizure,” his wife told him sternly. Edward complied though he looked less than mollified. Lucille ignored him and beamed brightly at the younglings who were already shoveling berry pie into their mouths as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks. She just loved it when her work was appreciated.

“What brings you young folks to the Village of Magic?”

“A research project actually,” Marle explained. “We’re studying the origin of a creature called Lavos.”

Lucille’s expression darkened. “Why?”

The three travelers glanced at each other.

“Umm… that’s rather difficult to explain,” the blond began.

“Wait,” Lucca interrupted. “Do you know something? Can you tell us something about Lavos?”

Lucille sighed. She much preferred happier topics of conversation.

“Lavos is a Mystic God, promised to us in past times. Lavos was supposed to end all of humanity and grant the Mystics a world of their own where they could live in peace and prosperity. But those that worship Lavos follow a dark path. Why would younglings such as yourselves be interested in such an ominous teaching?”

“We’re not really interested in the teaching,” Marle explained. “Really just the origins.”

“But why?” Lucille asked again.

“Umm…” Marle hesitated.

“It’s all right youngling,” Lucille said after a moment forestalling any explanation. “I’ll not pry, but you’d all best be careful while you’re here in town. My philosophy has always been to forgive and forget, but not many Mystics tend to agree with me.”

“And you probably should visit the old blacksmith down south. You’d enjoy a chat with each other no doubt,” Edward added grumpily. Lucille grinned at her husband’s sour mood.

“Yes, that’s actually not a bad idea. I can give you directions. But before you go, we must do something about those clothes!” Lucille added more warmly. Three heads looked down at their disheveled appearance, faces suddenly red with embarrassment.

Lucille gave each of her guests an overly large robe and towel to wear before she sent them outside to begin the process of cleaning their own clothes. The younglings quickly had an assembly line going. The aid and company quickly made the task far less onerous than usual.

At one point, the young man dumped his sopping wet tunic into Lucca’s lap.

“Crono!” Lucca complained, jumping to her feet. “Watch it!”

“Watch what?” he said innocently.

“You know what?” she then splashed a wave of soapy water at her friend. He was quick to retaliate by chasing the now half laughing half screaming Lucca. Lucille rose to her feet urgently as she realized they were far too close to the flowerbed filled with red and yellow irises that she had just planted a fortnight past.

“Watch the garden!” she protested running toward her young guests. Lucca made a quick change in course and avoided the flowers altogether. Crono on the other hand leapt over them before correcting himself and shooting once again after his desired target.

Lucille dashed away laughing as the cleaning of clothes quickly degenerated into an all out water fight between the three young humans. It was moments like these when Lucille truly missed her own children, now all grown with implings of their own. She continued to watch the show until it all came to a crashing halt when Marle dodged a bucket full of water that landed on Robo’s head.

“Robo!” Lucca shouted in panic. “Are you alright?”

“Yes Lucca,” the gold man said calmly.

“I thought the water might short out some of your circuits,” she said uncertainly.

“Only if my access panels are apert. It would not be very practycal design if I was not able to withstand a little water.”

“I suppose not,” she agreed.

“Though for future reference, oil would probably function as a better cleaning agent for my attire.”

“Was that a joke?” Marle asked peering at the metallic creature, her smile wide.

“I have no idea what you’re referring to,” he replied his eyes glowing brighter.

“And that was sarcasm!” she cried leaping up, seizing her strange companion in a hug. “Robo, I’m so proud!”

Lucille did not know what to make of this exchange. But she didn’t know what to make of the metal man either. He was obviously something different than the three humans. But he clearly wasn’t a mystic either. She sighed. It didn’t matter. Stranger things had come out of that closet.

The rest of the day was less eventful. They chatted about normal every day things. Marle even attempted to engage Edward in conversation at one point, but he had just glared at her for a long moment before she gave up and turned back to her own friends.

By the time the clothes were dry, the sun had long since set and Lucille insisted that her strange visitors spend the night. She knew Medina was not safe for them during the dark hours. But after a breakfast filled with sleepy eyed younglings it was time to say good-bye.

“We are on the edge of town. I suggest you had south toward the blacksmith’s straightaway. He lives in a yellow cottage just west of the southern fork. Be certain to spend as little time in the city as possible and you cannot be there when the sun sets,” Lucille warned.

“Why not?” Marle asked.

“Just do not be there when the sun sets,” she repeated sternly. “You are much better off in the country,” she continued more amiably, “where prejudice does not run quite so rampant.”

“Lucille, thank you for the delicious feast and helping us get outfitted for civilization again,” Marle said seizing the small imp in a hug.

“Yes madam, thank you for your hospitality,” the gold man added with a bow. Crono and Lucca both waved before turning away.

Lucille watched them leave. The strangest people always came out of the closet. They hadn’t had such an unexpected visitor in years. She enjoyed the change in pace their visits always brought even if it only lasted a day.

-oOo-

Marle ran ahead, letting her hands brush the top of wild grasses and flowers. She spun in circles laughing while listening for the buzz of insects and the song of birds. The simple things of the living world enchanted her completely.

“Marle!” Lucca called after her. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the simple fact that the sky is blue and the air is clear,” Marle explained when her friend caught up. “I never realized that I took all this for granted.”

“Yeah we should find some food,” Lucca responded.

“What?” Marle asked, unable to follow the inventor’s line of thought.

“Food. I took a ready food supply totally for granted. We should head into town and find a market,” she suggested.

“Umm… Is that…?” Marle began uncertainly.

“We’ll have to leave Robo behind. He’d attract way too much attention,” Crono interrupted.

“Would you terribly mind?” Lucca asked.

“Remaining behind while you collect provisions?” Robo responded. “Not at all. I think it is a logical lokinge.”

“Let’s go then,” Crono agreed.

“Are you sure?” Marle finally managed to cut in, biting her lower lip. “Lucille seemed to think that we should stay out of town.”

“We won’t stay long enough to find trouble. We need food,” Crono argued.

“But probably long enough for trouble to find us,” Lucca mumbled.

Crono glared at her.

“What?” she asked defensively. “You and I are trouble magnets!”

-oOo-

“That will be three thousand gees.”

Lucca stared at the clerk in disbelief for several seconds. And then at sandwich supplies accompanied by a few apples. Granted, they had splurged on the huge block of cheese, and Crono had wanted more jerky, but it shouldn’t have come out to anything nearing a hundred, let alone three thousand.

“I’m sorry, how much?”

“Three thousand,” he repeated.

“What?!” Lucca spluttered. “There’s hardly anything there! How does that come out to three thousand?”

“Lucca, calm down,” Marle said tossing a gold broach with a large emerald at its center onto the counter. “Will that cover it?”

The clerk reached forward to inspect the jewelry, but Lucca snatched it back.

“I will not,” Lucca objected hotly. “That is not a fair deal!”

“I think ye should be pleased that he’s willing to sell to ye at all,” a Mystic behind them interjected.

Lucca whirled in place and advanced toward the blue grey birdlike Mystic. “No one asked you, you pop-eyed, boil toed menace!”

“Lucca!” Marle hissed.

The feathered Mystic pulled out a short scimitar and moved forward menacingly.

With a ring, Crono drew his own sword.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Crono pleaded, standing directly in front of Lucca.

“Sounds like yer woman wants some,” he said coldly.

“I am no one’s woman!” she screeched marching around Crono. She did not need to be protected. She could take care of herself!

“For the last time, this… does… not… concern… you,” she punctuated each word by jabbing the mystic in the chest.

He glared at her offending finger. Then lifted his eyes directly toward her.

Lucca realized in a split second that she had perhaps taken it too far. The scimitar whistled forward. Crono shoved her aside and sent her sprawling to the floor.

The sharp ring of swords colliding buzzed through her head. She rolled back to her feet pulling her gun from its holster pointing it at the interfering lout that couldn’t mind his own damn business.

But she did not have a shot. Crono was in the way. He always was in the way.

Lucca watched, in appreciation, as Crono seemed to anticipate every strike the Mystic stranger threw at him. Crono parried low and to the right with ringing steel. He jumped back to dodge, only to leap forward to push his opponent back. He remained mostly defensive, which was quite a feat. Probably a stupid decision though, Lucca thought. She had watched Crono in multiple sparing matches and she knew this mystic was a pretty good match and Crono was probably a fool to hold back.

How was it that the one mystic she managed to insult just happened to be more than competent with a blade?

“Lucca!” Marle shouted.

Lucca whirled around to find the princess holding off the few other market customers with the threat of her crossbow. Lucca doubled the threat by adding her gun.

“This doesn’t concern you,” she told them. “Get out of here!”

When no one moved so Lucca fired a shot straight up. The ceiling exploded above her and Lucca clutched her head trying to protect herself from the raining debris. Customers shrieked and fled. The clerk remained frozen in his place behind the counter.

“That’s right!” she half called and half coughed after the fleeing strangers.

Lucca heard the sizzle of electricity and she turned her head just in time to see the stunned Mystic fall to the ground.

“Crono! You didn’t!” Lucca admonished, glaring at him in accusation. How could he use magic in the land of Mystics? They would never leave Medina now.

“Y-you can use magic!” the clerk stuttered into the sudden silence.

Marle was the only one with any sense. She shoveled the food into a bag, tossed two pieces of jewelry onto the counter, and dragged her friends out of the market.

They didn’t get very far. Just down the cobbled street and around a corner before they found themselves surrounded by a horde of scowling blue and green imps.

-oOo-

Ozzie VIII, mayor of the capital city Medina, had a mound of paperwork to complete, but he had pushed aside the mountain of neverending work so that he could devote his entire attention to the aroma that was second breakfast. Today the meal consisted of grilled lemon salmon accompanied by roasted golden beets, sweet potatos, and turnips. He took the first bite eagerly into his mouth and moaned in sensual bliss.

Nerali had truly outdone herself with this one. How was it that something as simple as a beet or a tomato always tasted better when coming from her garden and kitchen? Nothing his wife made ever touched him the way Nerali’s creations did. He really needed to give the woman a raise.

Before Ozzie could enjoy a second taste, his pint-sized assistant ran in. Ozzie let his knife fall to the table with a groan. The imp never brought good news.

“Sir Ozzie! We have a problem!”

“Of course we do Velix. What is it now?” the mayor asked with resignation.

“There’s an incident at Flea’s market,” he explained.

Ozzie rolled his eyes. When wasn’t there an incident at Flea’s market? The owner was either harassing his employees with unwanted sexual attention or he was picking fights with customers. And unfortunately, the market was located just across the plaza so Ozzie had the misfortune of hearing about every complaint and incident.

“And why does this warrant the attention of the mayor?” Ozzie asked, struggling to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“Three humans were involved in the altercation.”

Ozzie felt his ears perk up. Now that was unusual. Most humans knew better to set foot into the city proper.

“What happened?”

“All that I can report for certain is that a scuffle involving live steel broke out between one of the humans and an autorou. And a firearm went off and a portion of the ceiling caved in. As far as I know no one has been severely injured, but a mob has formed.”

“No time to spare then. Lead the way,” Ozzie pulled his gargantuan form from the padded chair slowly and gestured for his assistant to go on ahead.

Outside, a crowd of mostly imps had formed. Though their were others: gargoyles and gnashers. Ozzie VIII entered the crowd with mixed feelings. Last thing he wanted to have to deal with at the end of the day was dead bodies: human or mystic. Such an event was the worst way to spoil a good meal.

He did not have to weave or force his way through the hordes of imps. Either his great girth or his respected position ensured that the Mystics in his path melted away on either side. He did not really care which trait did the trick, just so long as the obstacles removed themselves.

Once he had arrived, Ozzie found the three humans standing back to back facing the angry mob with gun, sword, and bow drawn. He suspected they had at least some idea how to use their weapons based on how they were standing. If the crowd lost control and attacked, many native imps would die before they managed to lynch these unwelcome guests. That meant he would have to find a way to extricate the human trio from the situation.

“What have we here?” he asked in a booming voice, “Humans?”

“Is that a crime?” the girl with the crossbow asked. She was quite young, Ozzie noted. All three of them were. Barely more than children really. What idiocy had possessed them to come to Medina alone? Had they never heard of the Sunset Clause? Medina was not a safe place for humans. No matter how hard he fought for tolerance, the council never would hear it. In fact, they used his militant and prejudice ridden lineage to undermine his arguments constantly.

“No,” he said warmly. “Not yet anyway, but shooting up a shop and terrorizing law abiding citizens most certainly is. I advise you put your weapons down and come with me.”

“And who are you?”

“Ozzie the Eighth, mayor of this fine city.”

“What will you do with us?”

“You must surrender,” Ozzie insisted. “I can only guarantee your safety if you lay down your weapons. You will be held unharmed here until I can reach an agreement with your government for extradition.”

“No deal!” the archer shouted. “You will escort us to the edge of town and the leave us be,” she demanded. Ozzie grinned at the girl’s audacity. She definitely had spirit. How could he get her to understand that this was the only way they would walk away from this?

“You are not exactly in a position to bargain my dear.”

“Care to take a wager on that?” she asked sweetly while bringing her hands together.

“Marle! No!” the other girl cried.

Simultaneously countless small shining projectiles materialized above the mob, all pointed directly at him. Ozzie felt his jaw drop. This girl could use magic. That changed the game entirely. Magic using humans were an abomination and a threat that could not be tolerated.

“Death to the Mystics’ enemies!” he shouted pointing forward as he conjured an ice shield to block the incoming crytal missiles. The mob surged forward around him gleefully only to be pushed back by a sudden maelstrom of fire. Ozzie watched the humans fleeing to the south through the flames.

“After them!” he ordered. The mob once again pushed forward around the flaming obstacles.

Magic using humans were never a good omen. Lavos save them all if the abominations were not found and dealt with.

-oOo-

Marle shot towards their robotic companion with her heart throbbing in her chest. She had been certain that the mayor had been sincere in his offer to help them stay safe, but he couldn’t know that she was the crowned princess and that Crono was wanted for treason. Talking to their government could not be an option. Using magic had been her mistake, but she hadn’t been able to think of anything else. They had been cornered.

She glanced backwards. Their pursuers remained only a few dozen paces behind. One would think that with their short legs, the imps wouldn’t be able to keep up, but they were pretty fast.

“Robo! We gotta get out of here!” Lucca yelled pointing forward.

But they ran straight past him and he did not move.

“Robo!” Lucca screamed insistently again.

Marle turned back to see if their mechanical friend had listened and immediately stopped running. The entire plain was filled with collapsed imps and gargoyles.

“What did you do?!” Marle demanded. Had he just killed all their pursuers?

“Sensory override,” he said by way of explanation. “They will only remain stunned for approximately 3.6 minutes. Perhaps, we should continue to flee?”

“Sensory override…” she repeated, panting. What did that mean?

“Marle!” Crono called. “We need to keep going!”

“Right…” she agreed and began running again despite the sudden stitch in her side.

They continued south across the grassy plains. They never stopped running until they made it under the cover of trees. At first, the trees were sparse and did nothing to reassure the fugitives that they could not be seen, but eventually the foliage thickened and even the sunlight only managed to peak through.

“Are we safe?” Lucca asked.

“Sensors detect no Mystic life signals within a kilometra,” Robo reported.

“Is there something a little farther out than that?” Lucca asked. “Or is that the extent of your range?”

“Within the forestes that is my range. Outside the forestes, range increases by a factor of ten,” he explained.

“Great. We’ll rest here for a while. We’ve got good cover in most directions, but that also means we can’t see anyone coming so let us know if something breaches your perimeter,” Crono ordered. Robo nodded.

“What happened?” the robot inquired.

“Crono and Marle happened,” Lucca said in exasperation.

“You can’t blame me for this one,” Crono insisted.

“You were the one that decided using magic was a grand idea!” she countered loudly.

“Lucca!” Marle hissed in warning. Did the two of them not realize that their voices carried?

“I wouldn’t have had to if you hadn’t decided to get into a fist fight over the price of an apple or two,” he argued at the same volume.

“It was the principle of the matter!” Lucca insisted.

“Stop it!” Marle interjected urgently. “We can assign blame later.”

“We’re not really fighting Marle,” Crono explained gently.

“Just trying to take the edge off our nerves by yelling at each other,” Lucca agreed.

“Well, you’re making me more nervous!” Marle complained.

“Sorry,” Crono apologized, his eyes dancing in amusement.

“No you’re not,” the princess accused.

“I am!” he insisted seriously.

“So long story short,” Lucca interrupted, “We are now wanted fugitives on every continent.”

“Every continent? I have attached myself to a small group of henters?” Robo asked.

“A small group of what?” Lucca asked.

“Henters, those who would break the lage,” he defined.

“He’s asking if we’re criminals,” Marle clarified.

No one said anything. But both Lucca and Crono were staring at her.

“What?” she asked finally.

“You wanna take that one?” Crono asked.

“Me?” she asked surprised.

“You are the trained diplomat,” Lucca added.

Marle sighed and then attempted to explain that Crono had been accused of a crime that he was purely innocent of. And that she and and Lucca had helped him to escape so that he wouldn’t be executed.

“So you see,” she concluded, “We’re not criminals, so much as misunderstood in a lot of places that we go.”

“Yeah, pretty much everywhere,” Lucca added dryly.

“But you all were involved in the ascapie and asaut on the pursuing authorities,” Robo concluded. “So by definition, you would all be considered criminals even if you were innocent of the initial transgression.”

“What would you have done differently Robo?” Lucca demanded.

“I did not mean to imply that I disagreed with your choices, but under the definition, you are all technically criminals.”

“I’m not a criminal!” Crono protested.

“Just wanted for kidnapping the princess,” Lucca teased.

“Did you kidnap a princess?” Robo asked.

“I’m the princess!” Marle snapped.

“Did he kidnap you?”

“Well…” Marle grinned.

“Marle!” Crono objected.

“No, he didn’t kidnap me,” Marle agreed. “The chancellor was manipulating events to make it look like he did. He is a corrupt bastard intent on destroying the monarchy. And my father never notices or cares…” and suddenly she had to turn away, fighting off tears.

“Marle,” Crono reassured gently from behind. “I’m sorry for any misunderstanding my presence caused.” He squeezed her shoulder in sympathy. His hand of support felt so warm and solid. More than anything else, she wanted to turn into his arms and just cry into his tunic as she had at Arris. But this was no time to fall apart. So she did what all well trained princesses did. She took a deep breath, turned towards him, and summoned her brightest smile.

“It’s fine,” she lied. “It’s definitely not your fault. None of this has been your fault. You saved me! You and Lucca both!”

They both smiled back, but then they fell into an awkward silence.

“We probably should start moving again,” Crono said reluctantly.

“Where should we go?” Lucca asked.

“To the blacksmith,” Marle said immediately.

“Bad idea. We can be tracked there if anyone questions Edward,” Lucca objected.

“Lucille hasn’t steered us wrong yet. She told us not to go into town. Turns out we probably should have listened. And she told us to go the blacksmith. We should go,” Marle insisted.

“But…” Lucca started to argue.

“It’s not like we have a lot of other options,” Crono interrupted. “Robo? Do we still have a clear perimeter?”

“Affirmative.”

“Let’s go then – while the path is still open.”

-oOo-

“You think this is it?” Crono asked.

“Yeah, it matches Lucille’s description,” Marle confirmed.

“And we’re agreed? No one mentions that we’re on the run?”

When everyone nodded, Crono knocked firmly on the door twice. He could hear movement within the house and after a moment the door swung open.

“Melchior!” Crono said in surprise at the familiar face. He felt his body loosen in relief that they did not have to explain themselves to another Mystic stranger.

“Welcome Crono! What can I do for you?”

“Umm… Lucille said we should come visit the blacksmith that lived here. We had no idea it was you.”

“Ah Lucille! She’s an old friend. She probably just thought I could do with the company. Come in! Come in!” He ushered them inward toward an inviting table.

And for the second time in as many days the time travelers found themselves surrounding a formally set table consuming delightful treats. Melchior served them green tea and almond cookies. There was no denying it, the future was completely overrated. The finest things in life were found when you lived in the present even if one did tend to encounter a prejudice Mystic or two.

Finished with his tea, Crono meandered the room admiring the multitude of blades on display. Melchior really was a genius in his craft.

“That sword is an invention of mine. It’s lightweight and handles superbly,” Melchior explained bringing it down and handing the hilt to him.

Crono experimented by slicing the blade in an arc to his left and right. It was a little too light for his own tastes, but there was no denying the amazing balance of the piece.

“It’s a beautiful piece,” Crono commented handing the masterpiece back to his host with a bow of his head.

“What brings you folks to the Magic Village?” Melchior asked. “Can’t be a need of weapons as there are plenty of those on the Zenan Continent.”

“Umm… just researching Mystic culture and legends. If looking for accurate information, it’s best to go to the source!” Marle explained brightly. “But we have found that our presence is not exactly welcomed.”

“Yes, I can understand that. I’ve been here so long that the Mystics have learned to tolerate me, but that was not always the case,” he clapped a hand onto his knee and rose to his feet gesturing that they do the same. “As it just so happens though, I may just be able to help you with your project as I am somewhat of a scholar and bookworm myself.”

“As well as a blacksmith?” Lucca commented, clearly impressed.

“That would be wonderful!” Marle exclaimed.

The old man led them down the stairs into his basement. The room had been sectioned off into two areas. One side consisted of a worktable and a forge. The other was made up into a study – the walls lined bookshelves that were overflowing.

Marle bounced forward eagerly, running her hand across the dusty volumes reverently.

“You have quite a library Master Melchior!” Marle exclaimed excitedly.

The old man laughed. “Most of it is on esoteric and obscure topics and histories. Is there a particular topic that you are interested in?”

“Umm… religion,” Lucca supplied.

Did Crono imagine it, or did the old man’s expression darken?

“The Mystics have two main competing philosophies,” the blacksmith explained. “One is centered around Mother Nature and becoming one with the planet. Mystics that follow this path tend to live outside of the city to become closer to their natural origins. You can find resources on this topic on the leftmost bookshelf.

“The second is much more foreboding for you and I, but is probably largely responsible for the Mystics rising as a world power during the Great War in the Middle Ages as the order encourages aggressive nationalism, territorial expansion, and racial pride. These volumes are located down here,” he said pointing.

There was a loud pounding on the door upstairs. The blacksmith stroked his mustache in thought.

“To have so many guests in so short a time is unusual,” he commented. “Please excuse me for a moment. In the meantime, help yourself.”

Crono glanced upstairs and shared an ominous look with Lucca. She nodded her understanding, patting the gun within her holster.

“Thank you!” Marle called after him as his headed back up the stairs, completely oblivious to the potential danger they were in.

“Crono! Look at this!” Marle waved urgently to her companions. Crono only gave her half of his attention, trying to listen for any indication of violence or raised voices upstairs.

-oOo-

Melchior opened the door to find his front yard filled with a Mystic patrol. Two stern faced henches greeted him at the door. The captain clearly looked worried, the second downright angry.

“Is there something I can help you with officer?” Melchior asked warmly.

“Yes Master Blacksmith! We are looking for three fugitives and we were wondering if you have seen or witnessed anything strange moving south in the last few hours?”

“Hmm… I haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary traveling the roads, but then I tend to stay couped up inside. I can keep an eye out though if you like. What species should I be watching for? Gargoyles? Nagas?”

“Humans!” the second hench exploded.

“Humans? Now, that is quite the rarity!” Melchior said in astonishment. “I’m sorry, but I cannot help you.”

“That is quite alright Master Blacksmith! We’re sorry…”

“Sir! I must object! You are foolish to trust him. He is human himself! Of course he would aid the fugitives. We should search his home!”

“You are out of line Penski! Master Melchior is a trusted citizen of the realm – decorated and recognized by Sir Ozzie VIII himself! We do not go around invading citizens’ private homes without reason.”

“I have absolutely nothing to hide,” Melchior reassured. “If it would put your second officer’s mind at ease you are most welcome to come in. I have some tea that is just about ready if you would like to partake!” Melchior invited warmly.

“No Master Blacksmith,” the captain responded. “We appreciate the offer, but we must continue our search. We are most sorry to have bothered you.” And he turned gestured for his second in command to lead out the troops.

“Just between you and me sir,” the captain whispered, leaning forward. “Do be careful if you do see them. These are not ordinary humans.”

“No?”

“No, they can use magic,” the captain shivered as he spoke.

“I see. Thank you for the warning. I will be careful,” the blacksmith assured him.

Melchior closed the door and watched the patrol continue south for quite some time. He was almost disappointed that they had not come inside. He hadn’t had an excuse to cast an illusion in years. Though it was probably just as well that he hadn’t had to risk it. He could never be certain that the illusion would hold, especially with Mystics whose minds he did not understand as well.

He turned his thoughts back to his unusual guests. It was obvious that the young researchers downstairs could use magic. They positively reeked of it. It amazed him that the Mystics could not sense it. When he had met Crono and the girl just two weeks past at the fair neither had shown even a spark of developed ability. How had they learned so much in so short of time? And from whom? And he hadn’t missed that they were researching Lavos. Why would any happy young person have any interest in the dark path? Was it possible that they knew more about the beast than the current legends revealed?

And their metallic companion was yet another conundrum. The being was not alive as far as Melchior could distinguish and yet the creature was obviously capable of reasoning and communication. He almost reminded the blacksmith of devices that he hadn’t seen since… Melchior shook his head. No, it wasn’t possible. It was probably one of Lucca’s inventions. Hadn’t she displayed a fully mechanized combat machine at the fair?

He wished that he had time to solve the mystery they represented, but it was probably best that he smuggle them out of the country as quickly as possible. They could not remain so close to Medina. Not when their abilities would earn them a lynching. He still had a contact at the boatyard who knew to “trust” Melchior’s forgeries. It was time to put together some travel documentation. Maybe the old man did have an excuse to cast a few illusions. He grinned.

-oOo-

After the house remained silent for several minutes with no Mystics breaking through the door, Lucca allowed herself to loosen up and breath again. She tried to focus on the dozens of relevant books and histories Marle had pulled out and was tearing through, but she was distracted by Robo. He had moved to a different section of the small library entirely.

“Robo? What are you doing?” she asked.

“I am reading a dictionary,” he replied.

“Why? I doubt the dictionary is going to help us figure out the origin of Lavos.”

“I am updating my linguistic database.”

“Huh! That would totally work,” she said under her breadth surprised she hadn’t thought of it herself.

“You mean you’re downdating right?” she asked after a moment’s pause. “I mean… this language is older than the one you already know.”

“I suppose that is technically an accurate assessment, though I have not deleted my old database. I am adding to it and thereby increasing my functionality, which meets the standard of an upgrade.”

“You sure are the straight man Robo, if ever there was one,” Lucca said with a laugh. She watched him in fascination as he turned a page every second. Could he really read that fast? He was already a third of the way through the massive volume.

“Do you ever have to worry about filling up those memory banks?” she asked after a moment.

“Not for some time, no. Inactive files can be compressed and stored for later use. I will be able to function for approximately 4.87 decades without any data loss or external memory storage.”

“Fifty years? You can store fifty years worth of memories without any data loss?!” Lucca repeated amazed.

“I believe that is what I just stated, yes.”

“That’s incredible,” she whispered almost inaudibly.

At that moment, Melchior came shuffling back down the stairs.

“My apologies for my long absence,” he said warmly.

“Who was at the door?” Crono asked absently.

“My neighbor. He needed my advice about a tree in his garden,” he replied smoothly.

“A blacksmith, a scholar, and a gardener?” Lucca questioned with a smile. Her smile faded when she saw Robo. He had forgotten the dictionary and was staring at their host and his glowing eyes seemed to have dimmed to almost nothing.

“What can I say, I am a jack of all trades and master of none,” he replied modestly.

“The quality of this katana says otherwise,” Crono objected.

“You seem to have your hands full!” Melchior commented. “I will get started on preparing dinner.” And he left back up the stairs.

“Robo?” Lucca asked the android who was still staring after the blacksmith. “Are you alright?”

He straightened and his eyes lit up again. “I am functioning within normal parameters Lucca.”

“How’s your upgrade coming?” she asked.

“It is 73% complete.”

“Great! When you’re finished, I’m sure Marle would love your help. You read so fast that I think you will accelerate this research project exponentially!”

“I am glad to be of service.”

-oOo-

“Lavos makes its first appearances in Mystic mythology at about 586,” Robo reported.

“Really? That recent?” Marle asked surprised.

“The legend of Lavos comes with the rise to power of the Mystic King, Magus. He promised to bring forth a creature that would bring about the destruction of humanity.”

“He got that part right,” Lucca commented dryly.

“Are you sure it’s the same Lavos? Maybe those in the future simply called it by that name because of the old folklore,” Marle argued.

“I am certain that this is the same entity within a 96% confidence interval,” Robo stated, holding up a drawn picture of the beast. Marle shivered and turned away from the picture.

“Yup! That looks like the bastard,” Lucca agreed.

“So what good does this do us?” Crono asked.

“Well, if we know that Magus created Lavos, can’t we just go back in time and defeat him before he does so?” Marle suggested.

“You said that the legend began in 586. I don’t think we can go back that far,” Crono pointed out.

“Robo, do you think you can pinpoint when Magus created the monster?” Lucca asked.

“Perhaps.”

Robo continued to flip through the reference books. Marle had long since given up trying to keep up with the android and now would just wait for his report.

She seemed to entertain herself in between the breaks playing footsie with Crono under the table. Either that or thumb wars. Both activities irritated Lucca immensely. Luckily Robo was efficient and she did not have to suffer through watching their attempts at flirting for long periods of time.

“There was a ceremony Summer Solstice of 600 A.D.,” Robo summarized. “Magus disappeared at this point, but his generals took over the war efforts and hostilities remained ongoing until 606 A.D. after the humans went on the offensive and burned half of Medina village to the ground. The Mystics surrendered at this time.”

“I guess that’s why they hate humans so much,” Marle said sadly.

“They weren’t exactly innocent,” Lucca snapped.

“I believe that Lavos was brought forth at the ceremony,” Robo continued.

“What makes you say that?” Lucca asked.

“According to this record, General Ozzie shared that the human pestilence would no longer be a problem after the Summer Solstice,” Robo explained. “I hypothesize that Ozzie assumed that the consequences of Lavos’ presence would be immediate.”

“So… does that mean we’re actually going to go back to assassinate someone?” Lucca asked not sure how she felt about this change in her future career aspirations.

“He would deserve it!” Marle argued vehemently. “I mean, why would anyone ever want to wipe out another species completely?!” she demanded of no one in particular.

“Someone who had been mistreated by that species?” Crono guessed.

“Just because there are a few rotten apples, doesn’t mean the entire tree should be cut down,” Marle argued passionately.

Crono held up his hands in surrender. “You don’t have to convince me.”

“Great, so the guy’s a racist scumbag,” Lucca concluded. “But are you sure you’re all okay with this?”

“For Mai and Asha? Absolutely,” Marle stated without hesitation.

Crono nodded as well after a moment. So she turned to Robo.

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one,” he stated.

“Okay, so we are officially self assigned assassins. For the future!” she said as she gave a mock air toast. “You had better be worth it!” she shouted up at the ceiling.

“Dinner is ready!” Melchior called from upstairs.

“Oh good!” Marle exclaimed leaping to her feet. “I’m starved!”

“Before we head upstairs, you should all know that Master Melchior lied earlier,” Robo informed them.

“What?” Marle asked. “How do you know?”

“The knock at the door was not his neighbor, but rather a Mystic patrol.”

“But why would he lie?” Marle asked.

“To protect us?” Crono guessed.

“Or to keep us complacent until reinforcements arrive,” Lucca commented cynically.

“No, I really don’t think so,” Marle argued. “He seems to genuinely want to help us.”

“Only one way to find out,” Crono commented as he started up the stairs. “We just have to ask him.”

Lucca snorted as she followed him. “You’re going to make a lousy assassin Crono. You lack any semblance of subtlety.”

-oOo-

Dinner smelled fantastic. Marle couldn’t wait to actually have a real meal. Melchior had prepared a roasted duck with sides of steamed asparagus, stewed cranberries and mashed garlic potatoes.

“He’s a chef as well!” Lucca exclaimed. “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Many trades in fact,” he replied.

Marle didn’t care if he had magicked the whole meal into existence. She dove into the plate before her. Finally, they were having real vegetables and protein.

“Master Melchior! This is positively succulent!” she said after the first taste.

“I am glad you appreciate it.”

“Melchior,” Crono began. Marle sighed. She had really hoped he would wait until after dinner was over. She would hate to have to run in the middle of the first real meal they had since the future. “We had a question.”

“Yes Crono?”

“We really appreciate your hospitality and everything, but is there a particular reason that you didn’t mention the patrol that arrived earlier today?”

“Why yes there is. I had assumed that your research was important and needed to be completed. And I didn’t want you to be spooked into leaving when I had everything under control.”

“Why did you cover for us?” Lucca asked suspiciously. “What makes you think you can trust us?”

“Lucca,” he began patiently. “I was once a stranger here as well. I am well aware of how little it takes to provoke the Mystics into an all out man hunt if you happen to be human.”

“Still…”

“Have you done anything that warrants my mistrust?” he asked.

“No,” Marle was quick to jump in before Lucca could poke more holes in their own case. “It was a complete misunderstanding at the market.”

“Flea’s market?” he asked with a chuckle. “Well, there’s your problem right there.”

“Thank you,” Marle said sincerely. “For your hospitality and for taking us under your wing.”

“It is my pleasure, though you should know it is not safe for you to remain so close to Medina. For the most part, the Mystics there are not tolerant of outsiders of any kind.

“I can provide passage for you to any other nation,” he pulled out an envelope filled with tickets and identifying documents. “Perhaps you would like to make your way back to Guardia?”

“You don’t have to do that!” Marle objected. “Surely, we can make our own way.”

“I insist,” Melchior countered. “It is only good manners to show you my gratitude.”

“Gratitude for what?” Crono asked.

“For your presence and company. For bringing a little bit of action into my very routine life,” the old man responded jovially. “An old man does tend to get lonely.”

“Can we at least reimburse you for the tickets?” Marle asked.

Melchior chuckled. “I promise you, that is quite unnecessary. The tickets were quite inexpensive. But I think you should remain here until your research is completed.”

“Oh, we’re good on that front,” Lucca reassured. “Thanks to Robo!” she smiled at the android.

“Well then, you should try to get some sleep. I will wake you before dawn when my contact arrives to escort you to your ship.”

“Do you trust this person?” Lucca asked.

“I would not have contacted them if I did not. She will understand the delicacy of the situation. Fear not.”

“She?” Marle asked.

“Yes, she,” but he did not elaborate. Marle decided to just leave it. She was content to spend the time resting. She would save worrying for later when there was something to actually worry about.

Chapter Text

Marle sat up in the heavy darkness. As far as she could tell the sun would not be blessing anyone with its presence for quite some time. She overheard two voices speaking urgently upstairs, but she couldn’t make out their words. She tapped both her friends’ shoulders to wake them and was relieved when they both silently came to their feet, hands on their weapons. Marle followed suit by pulling her crossbow into her lap. Robo was already powered up.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Melchior greeted serenely as he entered the basement with a flickering lantern in hand. He showed no concern for their battle readiness. “Your escort has arrived.”

“Our escort?” Crono repeated, dropping his hand from his hilt. Marle and Lucca relaxes as well.

A small olive green imp followed their host into the room. It was Edward.

“Edward! But… You said ‘she’,” Marle objected, turning to Melchior.

“Yes, the old man was expecting Lucille,” the imp explained with his usual scowl, which was directed at the blacksmith, “but she is in no shape to moving about in the middle of the night. He shoulda known better.”

Melchior seemed completely unfazed by the scolding comment. Does nothing ever get under his skin, Marle wondered.

“Is she okay?” she asked, turning her attention to the grumpy little imp.

“She’s fine,” he replied defensively. “She’s just losing her night vision abilities.”

“I’m so sorry,” Marle said sympathetically.

The imp shrugged. “It’s a natural part of getting older.”

“Why are you helping us?” Lucca questioned. “It didn’t seem like you liked us very much.”

Edward scowled at her, “This ain’t got nothing to do with like. It’s got to do with what’s right.”

The human trio glanced at each other, suddenly not knowing what to say.

“Thank you,” Marle said finally.

The imp nodded in acknowledgement and gestured for them to make their way to his cart that was parked outside.

They each thanked Melchior for hosting them, for the use of his library, and his aid in their departure.

“It was my honor,” he assured them. “Travel safe. Be sure to stop by whenever you have need of a blacksmith.”

“You bet!” Crono said.

Robo and Lucca climbed into the back of the cart first and Crono handed them their packs, before he offered a hand to Marle. She accepted his help and stepped up into the partially covered cart before taking a seat on the hard wooden bench.

They travelled north and slightly west. Or at least that’s what Crono had said. Marle had no idea which way they were actually heading. The journey was not smooth or comfortable. The cart bumbled and jounced with every crack and pebble on the road and she could feel every jarring unexpected lurch through the rough wooden bench beneath her. Every now and again, Marle could hear the sound of another cart rolling by or of a patrol marching past. But they were never stopped or searched. The princess knew that silence was key, so she just bit her lip and gripped the bench when the patrols were too close for comfort.

“How did we get through those patrols?” Lucca asked Edward when they finally had arrived a few hours later and were unloading their small packs.

“You’re not the only ones that can perform a little magic,” Edward commented coldly.

“But wouldn’t the Mystics see through that?” Marle asked.

“Sometimes, but you have to be looking for it,” he explained vaguely. “This is your destination. Follow the roped path and speak only to the crew of the Calypso. It’s a mixed crew so a few extra humans will not be noteworthy. The trip will take about a week.”

Crono thanked him and shook the imp’s hand.

“Good luck,” Edward said tightly. “And next time you’re in Medina be sure to pick up your grocery needs from me and stay out of the town proper!”

“We won’t forget it,” Marle assured him. And then she lifted the imp off the ground in a tight hug. He struggled to get away. “Thank you! Say hello to Lucille for us!” she said as she put him back down. He didn’t say good-bye, but continued to scowl at all four of them. Marle’s grin widened.

She soon sobered as she followed her friends up the rough path. The golden glow of the horizon promised the eventual arrival of the Sun. She quickened her pace to keep up with the others. She knew it was best they were on board before they could be spotted from a distance. They finally made it over the crest of the hill and Marle looked out over the bay.

Dozens of ships of all sizes dotted the harbor as far as she could see from small private fishing boats and slightly larger pleasure yachts to massive militaristic vessels. The Calypso was easy enough to spot. Swarms of seamen worked to load the cargo ship with giant crates filled with supplies and goods.

They approached a worker and Crono explained that they had tickets to board the ship and asked where they should report. The man raised his eyebrows at this, but did not comment. He simply gestured for them to follow him.

“Cap’n, these ‘uns here have tickets to board the Calypso,” the seamen gestured toward their strange entourage, handing his superior their travel documents.

The captain glanced at their tickets and winced. He stared at them for a few seconds before he finally sighed.

“Follow me,” was all he said.

They complied. He led them through the bowels of the ship to a small hold that must have been near the engine room because the far wall vibrated violently. Marle eyed the unsteady wall nervously half expecting the barrier to shake itself loose. He tore open a closet and pulled out some clothing. He tossed each of the humans a uniform.

“Put these on,” he directed the three of them before turning to Robo. “I can’t disguise you so stay here, out of sight. When the rest of you are finished, make your way up to the main deck and you’ll be assigned a task.”

“Yes sir!” Lucca mock saluted. He smiled faintly before he turned and left them.

“Well, he wasn’t very welcoming,” Marle complained under her breadth, even as she obediently began changing.

Crono whirled away as she stripped down to her small clothes. Marle blushed as she realized she must seem immodest. She had become accustomed to having an army of attendants dressing her so she had lost whatever shyness she ever had, early on. It had never occurred to her that she would embarrass either of her new friends.

Lucca smirked at Crono’s back before she followed suit, turned away, and began changing herself. Marle lowered her own eyes as she hurriedly put on the beige uniform.

“It’s safe now,” she commented, her cheeks still burning.

-oOo-

Captain Samuel Rostron paced back and forth on the deck of the bridge. How could that blasted blacksmith expect him to smuggle human cargo at a time like this? The old man had terrible timing. Between the all out man hunt that was taking place in Medina and the political climate of Guardia, it was not good to have extra bodies on board on either end of this trip.

“I figured it was best to hide them in plain site. These inspection crews are trained to find hidden compartments and hideaways. They usually miss the obvious,” the captain explained to his executive officer, a mystic by the name of Viren. The blue skinned man had been with him for over a decade. “I gave them uniforms. Hopefully they can blend in with the crew. Split them up and try to tuck them away in corners. Give them simple deckhand tasks that they can learn in about five minutes. They need to be working for the next three hours straight.”

“Aye-aye,” he saluted lazily and stepped out.

Now, how was he going to get them into Guardia? That would be far trickier. The Transportation Security Administration searched every box of cargo and every human and mystic alike that set foot onto shore. Even Melchior’s forgeries weren’t good enough to get a fully mechanized robot through Guardian TSA. He wondered idly if the creature could swim.

“Sir?”

The voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Yes Leiutenant?”

“The Inspection Team has arrived and have requested that you join them.”

Rostron sighed.

“I’ll be right there.” One thing at a time, he told himself. He had to get through this inspection. And then he had a week to figure out how to get his passengers into Guardia. He cursed Melchior’s name again just to make himself feel better.

It wasn’t hearfelt. The old man had saved his life so Rostron didn’t feel like he could be picky about when Melchior called in the favors. And the blacksmith certainly didn’t abuse the privilege. If Melchior was making use of the Calypso, the risk to his crew and his ship was zero or it was a matter life and death for his charges. So… these were probably the humans the mystics were hunting after. Damn!

-oOo-

The captain scowled at the old inspector’s bony and completely bare golden back as she tapped her probing stick against every single bulkhead along the narrow corridor. The creatures looked like marble statues so the lack of covering was not at all off putting to the senses. And the captain supposed that if his skin was as tough as the thick hide the gargoyles supported, he wouldn’t bother with clothes either. This old lady seemed particularly like she enjoyed being difficult, stubborn even for a marble gargoyle. At the rate she was covering ground, or almost not covering ground, the Calypso wouldn’t be cleared for embarkation for another fortnight!

She wasn’t going to find anything – there was nothing to find! Not in the bulkheads! And somehow, that fact made the mundane task an even more infuriatingly large waste of time. He idly contemplated strangling the inspector. The paperwork that went along with a dead body could not possibly take longer than this.

He sighed. That wouldn’t do at all. The other members of her team would assume she had found something worthwhile and want to search the entire ship again.

“No, no, no!” an alto voice interrupted his thoughts.

The captain moved to the t-intersection at the end of the corridor. Around the corner two crewmembers lay across the corridor, their heads buried into an open bulkhead. The closer of the two wore spit-shined black boots, not having been exposed to the salt air long enough to completely lose their sheen. And the young lad, Tam, seemed obsessed with keeping them pristine even after two months aboard the Calypso. He had not yet accepted that it was a lost cause, but then the captain supposed he couldn’t expect anything less from the son of a cobbler.

The other crewmember had to be an engineer. Who else knew how to pry open the compartments? It was probably Naraya, judging from her slight form and the well worn, much more practical brown leather boots. The captain grinned. It was just like her to bully the boy into learning regular maintenance. She was of the attitude that everyone on the ship should be able to diagnose and fix basic problems. It meant major issues almost never occurred.

“You see, this here?” the girl asked. “This bolt has worked itself loose and is now making contact here, off and on with the vibration of the ship, intermittently shorting out the power distribution for this whole system. Lock it back down,” she jutted her arm toward the wayward bolt. Tam moved quickly to follow her directions to reconnect the piece of equipment.

“Now flip the power back on,” she said impatiently.

“See! Doesn’t that sound so much better? None of that nasty vibration that was just draining energy away.”

“What is going on here?” The inspector demanded.

The boy bolted upward, hitting his head against the compartment and shot to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. The boy bit his lip when he realized he faced the captain.

“C-Captain!” he stuttered.

“At ease, crewman,” Rostron reassured him, suppressing a chuckle. “This is the Custom’s Inspector, Ashika. She is checking to make sure we are up to code and following Mystic regulations. Would you be so kind as to explain what you were working on?”

The engineer pulled herself out of the compartment more slowly. His eyes widened as he realized the girl was not one of his engineers at all, but rather one of his refugees. The blue eyes met his confidently not a trace of nervousness or apology in her body language.

“Just some routine maintenance ma’am,” the girl reported directly to the inspector.

“Captain, I…” the boy started to explain, clearly in a panic about letting Lucca where she probably should not have had access.

“Tam, please relax,” Rostron interrupted, before the boy’s apologetic explanation could give anything away. “I see Naraya is attempting to make an engineer out of you. Making any progress?”

“Uh… yes sir,” he said.

“You just come on board?” the inspector demanded of the new recruit.

“N-no ma’am! I have been serving Captain Rostron on the Calypso for the last eight weeks,” he stammered.

The captain suppressed a chuckle at the boy’s comment. By anyone’s standards except his own he had just come on board.

“And we’re lucky to have him!” his passenger interrupted. “He’s adapted to life aboard a ship like a fish to water. And there’s some hope for his mechanical skills yet. He demonstrated well above average dexterity with those pliers. I love to see what else he could do with those hands… I’m sure a woman of your… experience knows what I mean,” she said with a wink to the inspector.

His deckhand had turned beet red in embarrassment as the girl eyed him meaningfully.

Inspector Ashika did not seem amused. She glared at the impertinent engineer before her. The captain found himself grinning.

“Just what exactly are you implying that I would want to experience at the hands of this… human?” she drawled the last words.

The engineer immediately sobered as if she had just realized her mistake. “Uh, nothing ma’am. I apologize if I offended you.”

Rostron was impressed in spite of himself. The girl, who couldn’t be much older than Tam, came off as if she had been aboard the ship for years – rather than merely hours. And she was redirecting the inspector’s attention away from his inexperienced and newest recruit. Inappropriate innuendo was exactly the tact to take with this stuffy old hag. He appreciated her not wanting his crew mixed up in whatever this was.

She harrumphed before turning back to him. He immediately wiped his grin from his face to face her stoically.

“Captain, you will now escort me to the next deck.”

Rostron could hardly believe his luck. She had only been halfway through this level. The girl must have really thrown her out of sorts.

“This way ma’am,” he gestured for her to take the lead.

-oOo-

Rostron swayed on his feet naturally with the rocking of the vast ship as he watched the sandy Medina coastline slip further into the horizon. Only when he could no longer see the port did he breathe easily again. It had taken another six hours for the Calypso to receive clearance to embark, but they were finally underway.

“Vir, your report please,” he directed toward his executive officer.

“With their sudden and particular attention to detail, the inspection crew ruined one batch of sensitive cargo – those Porrean slugs someone has the nerve to call a delicacy. There’s a bit of a monetary loss, but considering the rank smell is gone, I’m going to call that one a win.”

“Anything other losses?”

Viren shrugged. “Nothing of any significant value. We are about a day behind in maintenance because the human half of the crew constantly had to prove they are actually on your payroll. We covered for the passengers by giving them the identity of another crewmember and placing them on the opposite side of the ship so they were unlikely to meet the same inspector. I’m fairly certain we got away with it. You were correct, they were looking for people we hid away in secret compartments – not out in the open with uniforms on. But we’re four hours behind on the route. Though Amon and Naraya believe they can make up that time out on the water.”

The captain shrugged. Four hours was not hugely significant – not for a cargo ship.

“The crew integrated the new ‘crewmembers’ well. They did not react or question the new faces.”

Rostron nodded at this news. This was not the first time he had taken on ‘passengers’. They would question and argue with his decisions later, to his face – not in front of the inspection crew.

“And the four of them made themselves genuinely useful.”

The captain smiled thinking of Tam’s unexpected maintenance lesson.

“Four? There were only three humans. I told the mechanical one to stay out of site.”

“Aye, that he did sir… in the cooling system. Apparently he modified some of our systems…”

“What?!” he asked sharply.

Viren immediately held his hands up. “Calm down sir! It was a good thing. Apparently engine efficiency has been increased by eight percent.”

“Eight percent?!” the captain repeated, dumbfounded.

“Aye. Amon is beside himself going through the new system – he says it’s a completely revolutionary design.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s currently in the engine room hold, trying to blend in with the equipment. I’m sure he’s failing miserably.”

The captain considered this new information. Just who were these passengers that Melchior had sent to him? It was time to give his guests a more proper greeting.

“Would you please relieve our guests of duty and have them brought up here?”

“I don’t know sir! Those railing have never looked quite so shiny! Maybe we oughtta let them keep working to show the new deckhands what real rust chipping looks like!”

The captain smiled, pleased at the subtle gesture of support from his second in command.

“They did do rather well,” the captain agreed. “Send ‘em up. And include the mechanical one too.”

-oOo-

Rostron entered his waiting room to find his four peculiar guests standing in a row at full attention, almost as if they really were a part of his crew. He found this to be oddly touching, though he privately wondered if it had been Viren’s idea as these four were unlikely to understand the significance of their formation.

“At ease,” he said immediately. The three humans immediately loosened. “My name is Samuel Rostron. I want to apologize for the lack of welcome earlier. Master Melchior never gives proper notice with these types of things. I only had a few moments to stow you away before the inspection crew arrived.”

“It’s alright Captain,” the blond began graciously. “We understood what was going on.”

“I saw that. You handled yourselves well and my executive officer tells me that you performed your tasks admirably, that I would be lucky to have you on the actual crew,” the captain complimented them. They were still young enough to beam under the praise he noted. Just as well.

“We’ve had practice washing rusty fences,” the redhead said dryly.

Rostron chuckled at the drawn out resignation in the lad’s voice, which suggested he spoke the truth.

“Unfortunately, I suspect that keeping you would end me in a heap of trouble at some point or another. So let’s stick to the one trip for now,” he said. He held out their ‘tickets’ for their passage. “Am I to assume these are your real names? Crono, Marle, Robo and Lucca?”

“Yes sir!” Marle confirmed.

“And am I allowed to ask exactly what you are Robo?”

“I am an android designed to support my human counterparts in any way that I am able.”

“I see. I hear you do your job rather well!”

“Thank you for the recognition sir.”

He turned his attention back to the three humans.

“While you’re on board, I would recommend you stick to the uniform. It will make you less memorable for the crew if anyone comes asking.”

“Makes sense,” the redhead agreed.

“Let me give you the grand tour,” he gestured for them to follow him. He led them through the bowels of the ship, showed off the cargo bay, took them past the engine room which he knew they had probably already seen, and finished off with the top deck, galley, and their cabins. These were the important locations they would actually have to remember.

“Here are your cabins. Ladies on the left – you have a better view. Gentlemen, you can take the cabin on the right. There are lavortories at either end of this corridor. Simple fare is available in the galley around the clock. A proper dinner is served at eighteen hundred, Zenan Standard Time. With weather as beautiful as this, most of the crew choose to picnic up on deck. But be sure to stay away from where the deck hands are working.

“We will meet again tomorrow to discuss your situation. Welcome aboard the Calypso.”

-oOo-

Marle and Lucca unpacked their small bags into their cabin. It didn’t really take long seeing as neither one had a whole lot with them to begin with and the room was tiny. It consisted of a bunk bed on the right hand side, a small circular window straight ahead and an even smaller closet to the left. The dark wallpaper of navy blue made the room seem even more oppressive.

Once everything was in order, the girls made it back up to the main deck to find Crono and Robo waiting for them.

“You guys what to get some food?” Crono asked as he approached.

Marle nodded eagerly.

“Naw,” Lucca said. She was in fact starving, but she figured Crono wanted some alone time with the princess. And the sooner he got it, the less annoying he would be. “You guys go ahead. I will keep Robo company.”

“Shall we?” Crono asked, offering the princess his elbow. She took it with a giggle as she went with him willingly.

Crono turned back and mouthed her a ‘thank you’. She waved in acknowledgement. He now owed her triple! Boy, she was going to have to come up with something really good to get back at him for all this.

She glared darkly at their retreating forms feeling suddenly very conflicted about their budding relationship.

“Robo? Can you keep a secret?” Lucca asked, once her friends were out of sight.

“I can restrict access to my memory of this conversation,” the robot intoned.

“That’ll do nicely,” Lucca grinned. Then she turned more serious contemplating what to say. She did not know where to begin. How did one explain one’s feelings to an android?

“Marle and Crono… have romantic feelings for each other.”

“As I had hypothesized.”

“Hypothesized?”

“Yes, I have been observing their behavior. Marle will often look at Crono until he looks at her and then she will turn away. The surface temperature of her face and her heart rate increases. Crono has also been making a point of sitting next to her and touching her when we are not directly observing. This data suggests that the two are interested in a romantic relationship with one other with an 89% confidence level.

Lucca burst out laughing. “I’m sure they’ll both be disappointed that they’ve been so obvious. Anyway, earlier, before we found you, Marle had assumed that he and I were together.”

“This only had a 32% probability.”

“That high? You’ll have to tell me what that number is based off of some day, but right now just listen okay?”

“Audio receptors have not been turned off,” his synthetic voice actually sounded puzzled. She grinned.

“I told Marle that I wasn’t interested in him. And I meant it. But now, I find myself totally and completely jealous! And I am doubting what I told her. And I don’t know what to do! Or if I’m just being ridiculous.”

“I do not have an answer for you Lucca. Most of human behavior remains a mystery to me.”

“You could have fooled me!”

“Emotions are especially illogical.”

“You pegged Marle’s and Crono’s feelings for each other.”

“That was identifying and labeling them. Understanding what causes or motivates them is a different field of study altogether.”

“I suppose it is.”

“Being able to predict how a human will react to a situation is exceptionally difficult for me.”

“You and me both!” she exclaimed. They fell into silence and Lucca found herself staring across the deck. A team of three crewmen were hauling a crate the size of a carriage with an intricate pulley system that must have given them a drastic mechanical advantage. Either that, or the crate wasn’t truly that heavy.

She countered that thought immediately. It was definitely heavy. The labor force had all stripped down to their undershirts. One of them was even topless and they had worked up quite a sweating sheen in their efforts. Lucca found herself grinning at the view.

“It would appear that you do not have a strong romantic attachment to Crono,” Robo observed.

“What?” Lucca jerked her attention back to the mechanical creature, her cheeks burning red.

“You were staring at the sailors in a fashion that suggests you found them attractive, which would indicate you do not have a romantic attachment to Crono.”

She stared at him blankly. That was quite the pronouncement for someone who was not able to predict human emotions.

“I guess you’re right,” she finally agreed. “That answers that question. I guess I’m just terrified of losing my best friend. I feel neglected and lonely.”

“I can be your friend, Lucca.”

Lucca smiled at the metallic creature, “Robo, you already are.”

She wasn’t sure if she imagined it, but it seemed as if his glowing eyes brightened slightly, just for a second.

“Alright, I think we’ve given them enough of a headstart. Let’s get some food!” she declared, marching forward.

“I do not require oral sustenance.”

“Well, I do! So keep me company?” she begged with a wide smile.

“Certainly.”

-oOo-

Crono and Marle returned to the top deck with their picnic provisions acquired from the galley below. Lucca and Robo were nowhere to be found. Crono wondered how they had managed to miss each other in passing. He had been certain that Lucca would only give him a ten-minute head start. He decided not to question it.

They sat cross-legged on the deck directly, behind a railing that overlooked the ocean. The deep blue waters spread out infinitely in all directions. The colors and swirling patterns below reminded him very much of Marle’s aura. He looked up at her, watching the breeze and ocean spray batter her bangs and ponytail in unpredictable ways. He could imagine the swirling colors of her aura shining out from her interacting with the blues and greens of the ocean and sky behind her. The setting complimented her completely.

She caught his attention, and smiled shyly.

“What?” she asked him.

“Nothing. Just enjoying the scenery,” he said not turning his attention from her.

She blushed a delightful shade of pink and looked away.

“So tell me about some of your adventures,” he prompted.

“You mean, besides this one?”

He nodded.

“There’s not really much to tell. Life as a princess is pretty dull,” she said staring at her hands.

“What about the time interrupted your father’s sparring session and demanded to be trained yourself?”

“No fair!” Marle objected with a laugh. “You probably know half of my life story! And I know almost nothing about yours.”

“What do you want to know?” he responded with a grin.

“How did you get to be so good with the sword? You’re so much better than most of the trained knights.”

Crono looked away, staring into the endless blue ocean.

“I had better motivation, a better teacher, and lots of practice,” he said softly.

“Crono, if you would rather not talk about it I understand,” Marle said gently.

“No, it’s okay. It’s not a secret.

“We used to live in Choras. I was pretty young, but those times were some of my favorite memories.” He grinned. “My sister would…”

“Your sister?!” Marle interrupted. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“I don’t,” he said, the smile vanishing. “Not anymore anyway.”

“Oh… I’m so sorry.”

“I was the youngest. My sister was quite a taskmaster with quite a temper. I was particularly skilled in irritating her.”

“So what happened?”

“Someone broke in. My sister protected me. She hid me in a basket and covered it with blankets. I hid there a long time. She told me not to make a sound and so I did not. I didn’t see anything. But I heard it all.”

He stopped suddenly not able to continue.

“We don’t have to talk about this Crono,” Marle suggested softly.

“My mother eventually found me,” Crono continued. “But my sister hadn’t made it. She tried to help father and fight them. Both he and she were killed.”

“What was her name?”

“Eliana.”

“Pretty name,” Marle commented.

Crono nodded in agreement and they fell back into silence staring into the blue depths below.

“It was a robbery?” she finally asked.

“No, I don’t think so. My father was a peacekeeper and I suspect someone came to get revenge for someone he had put away, but I’m not sure. I’ve never been able to get my mother to talk about it.

“I was only five. I was frightened of the sound of blades and screams for a long time. My mother arranged for me to get training with a master. She wanted me to be able to protect myself I think. And to overcome my fear. As I got older, I realized that I had the same goal. I wanted to always be able to protect those that I cared about. I never wanted to be huddled helpless in a corner again while the people I loved were threatened.

“How long have you been studying the art?”

“Since I was six or seven. If you think I’m good, you should see Master Chiva! I worked at it for six hours a day when I was young. And for another two hours he taught me to read and basic arithmetic. Those lessons turned into ethics and philosophy. He always insisted that to train the body, but to neglect the mind was to make an incomplete warrior. Man, I wish I could talk to him about all that’s happened.”

“Why can’t you?”

“He went home indefinitely. There was a death in his family.”

“We could probably go visit him.”

“Naw, he’s all the way in Choras.”

“Crono, come on! We can travel through time! What’s an ocean or two?” She teased. He grinned.

“I’m sorry you lost your family,” she said sadly.

He shrugged. “It happened a long time ago.”

“But that kind of pain never goes away completely… My mother passed away when I was young.”

“Yeah, I know,” he commented softly.

“Of course you do. One doesn’t really forget the death of the queen. It’s really not fair,” she mock complained once again.

“Still, it must have been hard on you.”

“To be honest, I don’t remember it that well. I don’t remember her that well, but I know that my father was never the same after. He stopped caring about things,” she said sadly.

-oOo-

Lucca and Robo made their way down to the galley. She filled up her plate with onion soup, biscuits and gravy, and some kind of fish. She was surprised to discover they actually had some fresh greens. She didn’t suppose fresh delicate vegetables held up very well on a ship in the middle of the ocean. But then, they had just left port.

She managed a single bite before she was interrupted.

“So what’d you do?”

Lucca looked up from her food to see two mystics, a naga-ette and an imp on either side of her.

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t have to worry,” the imp reassured. “If the captain vouched for you, we got your back. We was jus’ wondering what you did to trigger an all out man hunt like that! Hasn’t been one of those since… when do you reckon Seli?”

“Oh you was jus’ an impling when old Slasher was in charge. There was a manhunt every other day!”

“That’s what I’m sayin’ Seli! Ozzie’s not like that. He’s an open-minded tolerant feller. So what’didja do to set ‘im off? Gots to have a fantastic story you do!”

“Nothing terribly exciting,” Lucca said as if she was sorry to disappoint them. “We just got into a fight at Flea’s Market in town. My friend may have overreacted a bit by drawing live steel, but the whole thing was just a huge misunderstanding.”

Both of their mystic companions wilted in disappointment.

“That’s it? Flea is always making trouble! Sorry you got pushed into having to run over that idiot.”

Lucca shrugged. “It happens. My friends and I are pretty practiced in getting ourselves into and out of trouble.”

“Well, welcome aboard,” the one called Seli said. “If you need anythin’ at all, I’m just down the hallway. You gotta know that not all Mystics are like that perverted old man!”

The girls were barely away before an impossibly tall dark skinned man clapped down heartily on Robo’s shoulder cervos.

“You sir, are a genius!” he exclaimed. “You have revolutionized my whole cooling system!”

“It was my pleasure sir,” Robo said politely.

“Mind if I sit?” he asked as he proceeded to do just that before offering a chocolate colored hand to Lucca. “Name’s Amon. I’m the chief engineer around these parts, though your metal man here apparently puts me to shame.”

“You and me both,” Lucca agreed with a smile, though she privately panicked at the realization that Robo had been improving systems on board the ship.

“Lucca, you have many of your own mechanical achievements to be proud of,” Robo argued.

“See how well trained he is?” Lucca bragged to the engineer, affectionately patting Robo’s shoulder.

“To what training are you referring to Lucca?”

Amon and Lucca both burst out laughing.

“Don’t worry about it Robo,” Lucca finally managed. “Just remind me that we have to work on idiomatic expressions later. Actually, you should ask Marle. She can probably explain it better.”

“I hear you’re pretty good with a toolbox yourself madam Lucca,” Amon commented. “Did the captain finally book us some useful passengers?”

“Any three year old could have detected that short,” Lucca said with an eye roll.

“Man, I wish! I can’t get half the fools around here to tell the different between a pipe wrench and a set of wire cutters.”

“I know exactly the type you’re talking about! My father hires these apprentices…”

Lucca spent the next half hours swapping stories of incompetent underlings.

“He didn’t!” she hissed. “That would flood the whole engine!”

“Exactly. The captain was furious!”

Lucca groaned in sympathy. “How long did it take to flush it all out?”

“Two days.”

“Two days?! Two days of just sitting stranded in the middle of the ocean?”

“We survived. That’s what we do,” he said smiling.

“You both might find you avoid a lot of these problematic scenarios if you employed a completely automated technical labor force,” Robo suggested.

Both engineers turned to him in stunned amazement.

“Tell me where I can find one!” Amon exclaimed.

Lucca shook her head praying her android friend would remain silent.

“Hey Amon! It’s time to stop flirting! Your shift started fifteen minutes ago!”

Amon winced as he rose to his feet.

“That’s my partner in crime, Naraya. I got to run. It was nice to meet you Lucca, Robo,” Amon said with dancing hazel eyes. “If there are anymore systems either of you want to take a look at I am completely down. Just let me know!”

“I may take you up on that!” Lucca agreed brightly.

He casually saluted then departed. Lucca turned on Robo immediately.

“Robo… what did you do?” she asked sharply.

“I upgraded the Calypso’s cooling system. The old system was not penetrating to the core of the heating rods. During a real emergency, the system would have been inadequate to contain the rapid heating and the lives of the crew would be in danger.”

“You can’t just go around upgrading systems Robo!” Lucca chastised.

“Why not? I was programmed to prevent the loss of human life wherever it is possible to do so…”

“But you’re in the past!” she hissed. “Anything you change here, could affect the future!”

“But isn’t that exactly what we are attempting to do? Change the future?”

“Not the technological development of the entire planet! How will this impact your future oil crisis if you give people more advanced technology and reasons to use more oil?!”

“I would imagine that increasing fuel efficiency would result in a reduced level of oil consumption. Would this not, perhaps at least, push the oil crisis to a later date?”

“Robo! What am I going to do with you?”

“I do not understand the question, Lucca.”

She sighed. “Just don’t go around giving the people of this time advanced designs and technology anymore okay?”

“Certainly Lucca, if you think that’s wise.”

-oOo-

Lucca had thought that filling herself up with food would have made her feel better, but the rocking of the ship was playing havoc with her digestion system. She lay very still on the bottom bunk of her bed concentrating hard on suppressing her gag reflex.

Lucca’s stomach lurched to the side and she clutched it convulsively.

“Are you okay?” Marle asked as she entered the cabin.

“Yeah,” Lucca said catching herself. “I don’t mind motion – it’s just so unexpected on a ship, and I can’t see what’s causing it. And I didn’t help matters by overeating.”

“I’m sorry,” the princess said sympathetically.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine,” the inventor waved away her friend’s concern. “How was your date?” she asked after a pause. The princess blushed.

“It wasn’t a date,” she insisted.

“Two people eating delicious cuisine alone together with gorgeous vistas… Sounds like a date to me,” Lucca teased. If anything the princess’ blush deepened. “But then, maybe a princess has a different definition…”

“Stop it!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to tease,” then Lucca paused. “Well, maybe I do a little. But I just want to make sure that Crono was being a gentleman and not boring you to death.”

“No! He was wonderful!”

“Oh good,” Lucca said dryly. Leave it to Crono to find a match so completely socially unsuitable for him.

“He had a sister?”

“He told you about Ellie?!” Lucca asked, bolting upright and immediately regretting the action as her abdomen flipped uneasily.

“We were friends for three years before he told me any of that,” she said softely.

“Maybe the topic just never arose,” Marle insisted.

“Right,” Lucca said skeptically.

Marle fidgeted self-consciously. Lucca took pity on her and changed the subject.

“Does the royal princess prefer the top or the bottom bunk?” Lucca asked tossing her roommate a pillow.

“Uh… wouldn’t you prefer to be able to get up easily if you’re feeling sick?”

Lucca shrugged, but she was surprised at Marle’s consideration of her condition.

“I’ll keep the bottom then. Thanks Marle!”

-oOo-

“Would you prefer the top or bottom?” Crono asked his artificial companion.

“I do not need to lay down to get rest so you should take whichever is more suitable to yourself,” Robo explained.

“Oh! Do you need to sleep at all?”

“Periodically taking time to compress memory files and repair defects is helpful for maintaining continued smooth operations, but lying down is not necessary for this action.”

“How often do you need to do that?”

“For optimal efficiency, once every 72 hours.”

“For how long?”

“Approximately 4.38 hours.”

“Wow, that’s a good deal you’ve got going there.”

Crono lay down excited that this time next week they’d be back in Truce.

-oOo-

Viren glared at the notepad in front of him. He hated taking notes, especially when it had to be in code. He had people for that. But the captain had insisted that the fewer members of the crew that knew what exactly was going on, the safer they would all be. It was hard for the blue skinned mystic to object to that. And Rostron would never admit it, but he had a tremor in his hand that made it impossible for him to write down anything other than a scrawling completely illegible signature. So it was up to him to take down all the details so the two of them could devise some kind of plan to get these kids into Guardia.

Viren preferred smuggling contraband. Worst case, you ended up dumping the product and life went on. You couldn’t do that with human cargo.

“So do you have Guardian citizenship that can get you through customs legally?” the captain questioned the four passengers.

The human trio glanced at one another nervously.

“I thought not,” the captain said with a sigh.

“We are citizens!” the blond girl insisted. “We just can’t go through customs.”

Which meant they were wanted fugitives. Viren wouldn’t hold that against them though. Almost everyone was a wanted fugitive in Guardia these days. If Truce didn’t supply half their cargo he was certain the captain would have chosen to skip the port altogether.

“Are you set on Guardia?” Viren asked. “Getting you into Choras would be far easier.”

Marle grinned at Crono. “Told you,” she whispered.

“It has to be Guardia,” the redhead insisted, not reacting to his companion’s dig.

“Very well,” Viren said, exasperation clear in his voice.

“Are you familiar with Truce?” Rostron asked after a moment.

“Which part?” Lucca asked.

“The port? Surrounding countryside?”

“Crono and I,” she said pointing to him and herself, “are natives to the area. We can definitely find our way around.”

“Can you swim?”

Lucca bit her lip as she glanced at Robo.

“I can function normally in salt water for very short periods of time,” the metallic creature filled in.

“How short?”

“Five minutes.”

Viren winced. With a rocky coastline they wouldn’t be able to guarantee getting out of the water within ten.

“Very well. I think we have enough information,” the captain said. “Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you for your time,” Marle insisted.

The passengers then filed out one at a time.

“Your thoughts Vir?” the captain said not turning toward him.

“There’s not a lot of options. I think we’re better off with the whole ship scenario, sir.”

The captain winced. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

“They’re fugitives sir. You can’t risk taking them through the port.”

“Very well,” Rostron agreed with a signed sigh. “Make the arrangements. I have no problem with the crew assuming that it’s a drill. Just inform Amon and Naraya to make the necessary arrangments.”

“Aye-aye cap’n!”

-oOo-

Blaring alarm bells startled Marle upright. Her head made hard impact with the ceiling and she cursed.

She jumped down from the bunk. Footfalls and accompanying shouting could be heard outside the door. Lucca threw the door open and cornered the first deckhand she could find.

“What is going on?!” she demanded.

“That’s the signal to evacuate! You need to report to the nearest life vessel!” he insisted urgently.

“Why are we evacuating?” she asked instead, not budging.

The crewman shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. When the alarm sounds, you move!”

And he pushed past her and left both of them standing agape.

Lucca moved toward the door across the way to their friends’ cabin and banged on the door. There was no answer.

Another crewmember came charging toward them down the hall.

“What are you still doing here?!” he yelled. “You need to head up to the main deck to board your life vessel,” he directed.

“Come on Lucca!” Marle ordered. “Maybe they’re already up there.”

The main deck was a nest of controlled chaos. Uniformed men and women, both human and mystic, ran to preassigned evacutation points. As boats filled up, they departed immediately. Crono and Robo were no where to be seen.

What had happened, she wondered, that would require the whole crew to abandon ship?

“You there!” a mystic woman with pointed ears and green scales gestured for Lucca and her to approach.

“You’re on the priority list. You need to be on this next boat.”

Marle moved obediently forward.

“I will not leave without my friends!” Lucca objected hotly.

“Ma’am, I need you to get on this boat,” the mystic said calmly, not at all perturbed by Lucca’s temper. “I have no idea where your friends are. I’m sure they’re being evacuated onto another life vessel.”

“Lucca,” Marle said reassuringly. “She’s just doing her job. She probably can’t help us. Crono and Robo’ll be there. Don’t worry.”

Marle did not enjoy the boat ride. While the large cargo ship had rocked unpredictably on the ocean waters, the small life vessel dropped two feet only to soar back up with each and every wave. The passage was made worse by the pre-dawn twilight so she couldn’t really see what was coming next. Luckily, the journey to land turned out to be a short one.

They landed, and Marle was unceremoniously thrown into the knee deep freezing cold water with directions to head straight to shore. Lucca followed behind her miserably.

The two of them wandered through the hastily set up camp looking for Crono and Robo. Every moment that went by without seeing them caused her throat to tighten and her stomach to swirl.

“We never should have left,” Lucca said guiltily. “Crono can sleep through almost anything.”

“I doubt you can say the same for Robo,” Marle said trying to be reassuring, though she did not feel confident herself.

It was Crono’s shouting voice that led the two girls to him. He sat on a cot. It looked like he had just awoken, but he was shouting at Robo.

“I thought that you weren’t allowed to harm humans!”

“No permanent damage was done to you,” Robo said calmly.

“You ever pull a stunt like that again and I’ll…”

“Crono!” Marle called.

He turned, relief evident in every muscle of his body. She threw herself at him and he enveloped her in a hug. Just as quickly let go so he could give Lucca the same treatment.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he whispered to them both.

“What happened?” Marle asked. “Why were you just threatening Robo?”

“When Crono refused to evacuate without you I stunned him and carried him aboard the vessel. Emergency protocols should be followed for minimal loss of life,” the android stated in explanation.

“We’ll have to establish some of our own emergency protocols,” Lucca said calmly as she draped an arm over the robot’s shoulder.

“I hate to break up the reunion,” Viren whispered into their ears, “but we only have a limited time window before the Guardian authorities have this whole area cordoned off.”

Marle stared at the executive officer in disbelief.

“There’s nothing wrong with the ship,” she realized out loud.

“There will be if you’re still here five minutes,” he said harshly. “And I would ditch the uniforms as soon as you are able.”

Marle seized the executive officer in a hug.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed. “For going so far out of your way for us. I will not forget it. Please be sure to deliver our gratitude to your captain and crew.”

-oOo-

The Guardian authorities arrived quickly. His crew had only been on shore for about forty minutes. They sectioned the area off and began by searching each crew member and matching each individual with the Calypso’s roster.

He, as the captain, had been immediately isolated for questioning.

“Can you tell us why you abandoned your ship?” the official asked, not once looking up from his clipboard. The man was dressed perfectly as if he were in a stateroom and not out in the middle of a forest along the coastline. His navy blue uniform was perfectly pressed. There was not a hair on his head out of place and his thin spectacles lay perfectly on the bridge of his nose. Even his shoes were so well polished that Tam would have been envious.

“I was told there was a meltdown in progress,” he said glaring at his ship that was floating abandoned on the water.

The official followed his gaze. “And you would risk an explosion so near the Guardian coastline?”

“The lives of my crew were at stake!” the captain insisted jumping angrily to his feet.

“Sit down, captain,” the official urged. “We are just trying to get to the bottom of what happened.”

The captain grunted.

“Let’s inspect your crew shall we?” the official invited Rostron to follow him.

Rostron moved through his crew with pride. They took the indignity of being searched obediently, but not without slowing the officials down.

“Why on earth, do you need me to take off my shoes?” Seli demanded even as she proceeded to do as instructed.

They were approaching Naraya in a heated conversation with one of her underlings. The captain breathed a sigh of relief. Her timing as always was perfect.

“You mean to tell me that you pulled the alarm over a power surge?

“I guess so…”

“You guess so?” she demanded.

“I mean…Yessir, I realize now that it was a power surge,” he said meekly.

Naraya sighed dramatically before her eyes widened when they landed on him. She marched to him directly as if she didn’t notice the official shadowing him. She could have been an actress.

“Captain,” she greeted tightly.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Nothing sir,” she reported.

“Then why are we standing on this beach instead of on deck?” The captain asked tightly.

“My fault captain. I left Leo in the engine room. He would have been fine under normal circumstances but there was a strange blip in the reactor and he panicked and pulled the alarm. The two seniors were not there to keep him cool.”

A Guardian soldier approached and turned to the official that had been following him.

“All of the crew is accounted for sir,” he reported.

“Thank you leuitenant. Send your full report to my tent,” he ordered before turning back to the captain.

“It seems as all of this is just a misfortunate overreaction captain on all our parts. I would however, like my engineering team to inspect your engines, just for safety of course. The potential explosion could be environmentally catastrophic to Guardia’s coastline,” the official said smoothly as if it was a precaution and a suggestion. Rostron understood that it was an excuse to search his vessel and mandatory if he wanted his crew to be released.

“Of course Commander. Whatever we can do to put your Guardian hearts at ease,” Rostron agreed amicably.

“Captain!” Naraya objected. “I don’t want a team crawling unsupervised through my engines!”

“You’ll have to forgive my chief engineer. She takes a certain parental pride in the Calypso and with that comes some overproctectiveness as well. Would you mind terribly if your own team partnered up with yours? I’m certain she’s as eager as yourself to inspect the ship’s systems.”

“Of course,” the official agreed readily. “They’ll need to be ready at my tent in five minutes.”

Rostron nodded with a smile and the official marched away, finally allowing Rostron to move about unescorted. The inspector vastly underestimated his crew if he didn’t believe Naraya couldn’t have her team assembled in that short span of time.

“Captain?” she questioned.

“Get your team. Keep them from looking at the new cooling system too closely if you can,” he ordered.

“Yes sir.”

Rostron glanced passed her as she marched away to the forest where his “passengers” had vanished. He was really going to have to talk to Melchior about these favors.

Viren approached from behind.

“A penny for your thoughts sir?”

“I want you to deliver a bonus to everyone once everything is running smoothly again. I want to thank you and everyone for jumping through all these hoops to help me repay my own life debt.”

His chief engineer shrugged, “It’s nice to have some adventure in our lives once in awhile. Plus, they were good kids.”

The captain smiled. They were at that, and he suspected they were a lot more than they seemed. The android was going to save him a fortune in fuel expenses.

“And if you’re willing to go to such lengths for a few strangers everyone knows what you’d be willing to do for your crew.”

-oOo-

The boy peeked through the multitude of scarves covering his face at four figures that had just turned the corner. The group was too small to be a Guardian patrol. But they were moving so openly after curfew. Didn’t they know that was a great way to become fodder for the guillotine?

The boy moved to intercept the four strangers. He would hear about this breach in procedure later from his cell leader, but he couldn’t let these people just be arrested, a fate he himself understood better than most.

“What’s wrong with you?” he hissed from the alleyway as the group walked by.

“Excuse me?” one of the girls asked. She had a crossbow slung over her shoulder – at least they had weapons.

“You can’t be strolling through town around after curfew!”

“Curfew?” a young man asked. The boy glanced up recognizing the voice, but he couldn’t really make out the face of the young man that brought up the rear. His mind immediately dismissed the thought. It wasn’t possible.

“Oh come with me,” the lad growled waving for them to follow him.

He led them into the back door of his dad’s shop.

“You can’t be outside after curfew!” the boy lectured once they were inside, not sparing them a glance. He began hanging up his multitude of scarves that had been covering his face and his cloak. “You don’t want to be caught by one of those patrols. Trust me.”

“I’m sorry!” the older boy apologized. “We haven’t been in town…”

The boy finally turned around to address the people he had just saved directly and his lecture died in his mouth.

“Crono!” the boy exclaimed, recognizing the red haired young man immediately. “You’re alive!”

“Fritz?” Crono asked with a smile clapping the younger lad’s back. “You made it out?”

“Yeah! Thanks to you!” the boy grinned and then immediately turned solemn. “Crono, you can’t be here. The princess is still missing and they say you’re to blame even though they also say you were executed. There are patrols every two hours and ‘random’ searches within homes that aren’t random at all. And we’re due.”

“What?” the blond girl asked in shock. “But…”

“His comment would suggest that a patrol will arrive sometime this evening to inspect…”

Fritz jumped at the synthetic voice that spoke from the strange metal suit. He had assumed that the creature was in some kind of armor, but maybe he was completely mechanical.

“Not now, Robo,” the helmeted girl interrupted. The gold man immediately stopped speaking. Fritz continued to stare at the metallic creature.

“What are you?” he finally managed.

The rhythmic pounding of his sister thundering down the stairs forestalled any attempt at explanation.

“Fritz!” she hissed, “We can’t take in refugees! Not tonight! You know that!”

“Elaine,” he greeted, “This is Crono.”

Fritz watched his sister freeze, staring at the stranger that had become a household hero and celebrity. Then she seized the stranger into a hug.

“How can we ever thank you for bringing back our Fritz?”

“Uh…” Crono said awkwardly. “It was nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“It was not nothing,” she objected. “I’m sorry though, this may seem terribly rude and ungrateful, but you can’t stay here.”

“Yeah, Fritz told us,” Crono assured her.

“They can’t go out either Elaine!”

“We’ll have to smuggle them out through the tunnels.”

“Tunnels?” the girl with purple hair asked. “What tunnels?”

“It’s not really a tunnel,” Elaine explained. “It’s a code name.”

“I’m a member of the resistance,” Fritz declared proudly.

“Ummm…. That’s something you’re not supposed to advertise,” Elaine admonished.

“But it’s Crono! He’s like public enemy number one! Who’s he gonna tell?”

“That’s not the point Fritz!”

“What’s going on in here?”

“D…Dad!”

“Crono…” the older man said softly. He came forward and took Crono’s hand firmly in his own. “As the young man who rescued my son you will forever have my gratitude and be forever welcome in my home and place of business.”

“As the traitor and escaped felon that kidnapped the princess, I cannot afford to let you stay here,” he continued, his voice full of regret.

“Crono is no more guilty of kidnapping the princess than I am of thieving!” Fritz objected.

“Are you certain?” his father asked gently, gesturing to the girl with the blond ponytail. Fritz gasped in recognition and wanted to kick himself. He had just admitted to being a rebel in front of the princess!

“I am certain,” she spat furiously. “Crono is most certainly not guilty of kidnapping the princess.”

His father bowed his head in acquiescence. “Unfortunately, we do not live in times where the truth of events seems to count for much,” he countered sadly.

“You can’t turn them in father!” Elaine burst out. Fritz felt his blood run cold at the mere thought. His father remained stoically silent evaluating his options.

“Dad,” Fritz begged. “Crono rescued me from the dungeons. You can’t send him back there.”

“You’re absolutely right, Fritz. I was not considering turning them in to the Guardian Authorities – simply that we cannot play host tonight. You will need to smuggle them out. This is an exceptionally dangerous time of day, but we cannot wait.”

Fritz and Elaine bolted into action, dressing all three of their sudden guests in sets of dusty scarves.

“Hiding your face clearly identifies you as a member of the resistance,” Elaine explained. “So if the guards see you with your faces covered, they’ll definitely chase you, but it also means that no one knows who you are so witnesses can’t turn you in. And seeing as you both are probably the most wanted individuals, I wouldn’t recommend letting anyone see your face.”

They turned to the mechanical man and froze.

“Your disguises won’t do much to camouflage me,” the robot said. “I have my own methods of self defense should they become necessary.”

Fritz nodded. “Alright then. Follow me,” he ordered.

He led them through alleyways and cellars and finally to an underground facility. Fritz tore off his own scarves and his companions followed suit. The guards let them pass without comment.

“Where’s the commander?” he asked.

They pointed down the hall. Fritz darted forward, his body finally loosening in relief now that they had made it to the base.

“Liedermark,” Commander Degen growled. “What are you doing here? You’re due for inspection tonight.”

“I’m sorry sir. I had some important guests that I could not risk being discovered. My father thought it best to bring them here,” he said gesturing to the companions behind him.

The commander’s eyes widened as they landed on the people behind him.

“Sieze them!” he ordered.

Four guards immediately moved forward.

“But sir!” Fritz objected.

“Back off!” Lucca cried raising her gun from its holster. The princess hesitantly pulled out her crossbow. The guards froze.

“You think you can hold us if we choose to leave?” she challenged.

“Lucca,” Crono said softly. He had never drawn his blade. “Stand down.”

Her eyes glared into his, but she lowered her weapon and the princess followed suit. The guards relieved them of their weapons and put them into restraints.

The commander stared at Crono, hatred boiling from his eyes. Fritz was amazed that Crono met the man’s eyes. Fritz had to turn away.

“Do you know all the pain you’ve caused?” the commander accused.

“Sir!” Fritz objected. “Crono didn’t start this! It had started before the princess ever disappeared the first time!”

“Silence Liedermark!” Degen shouted.

Fritz clamped his mouth shut, certain that he could only make things worse.

“Search their belongings and put them in isolation,” the commander ordered.

“Sir, they may be of use to the cause if you would just listen,” Fritz objected again.

“I don’t know if you noticed Liedermark, but that’s the princess! You think we would just let her go free?!”

Fritz had nothing to say to this, but he felt the fool. He had meant to help these three even before he had known who they were. Now that he did, that desire had only grown, and he couldn’t help but feel he had made a complete mess of things.

Chapter Text

Lucca paced back and forth between a pile of blankets and a haphazard stack of crates in the small rectangular ‘isolation’ room they occupied. It looked like it used to be someone’s cellar.

“Would you please stop?” Marle begged. “You’re making my head spin.”

Lucca made herself stop in her tracks.

“What the hell are we doing here?” the inventor snapped. Without the pacing, she needed another way to vent her frustration. “We gave up our weapons willingly,” she said, throwing Crono a dark look. He didn’t bother to meet her eyes.

“We still have magic,” Marle commented softly. “They can’t completely disarm us.”

“Why did we surrender Crono?! There is no way they could have taken us!” Lucca demanded.

“And would you have been okay with shooting our way out?” he asked jumping to his feet facing her, his bright blue eyes flashing in anger. “What would’ve happened Lucca?”

“So what? You’re a pacifist all of a sudden?” she accused. “You were perfectly willing to slay evil Mystics in during the Middle Ages!”

“This is different!” he cried.

“How?” she demanded impatiently.

“First off, the Mystics would have killed us without second thought. Here, we have yet to be harmed. Second, the resistance are just people fighting for their freedom. They’re just misinformed.”

“You believe that?” Marle questioned tightly.

Crono winced. Lucca held no sympathy for him.

“You actually believe these people should be rebelling against the crown?” Marle asked icily.

“Marle, that’s not what I meant,” he said raking a hand through his unruly red locks.

“What did you mean?”

“Marle…” he said again gently.

“The government is corrupt!” Lucca raged at the princess, interrupting Crono. “You know that better than most!”

Just then the door swung open and four guards entered the room.

“Kio, take the princess,” one man ordered gesturing to the blond. “And Idani, you’re responsible for getting the machine sent down to the lab.”

Crono stood protectively in front of the princess, their disagreement suddenly forgotten.

“Where are you taking her?” he demanded.

“It’s not your concern,” the leader said patiently. “I suggest you step aside.”

“Crono,” Marle reassured pushing past him to go with the guard willingly. “I’ll be fine.”

Crono didn’t move to intercede. His tightly clenched fists suggested he very much wanted to.

“She had better not be hurt,” Crono warned tightly as the guards carefully bound both the princess and Robo with plastic bindings. Lucca suppressed a snort – the material could not actually hold the android. But Robo submitted to the treatment anyway.

“Robo,” Lucca whispered under her breadth knowing the robot’s audio sensors would hear her, “don’t let anyone dismantle you.”

His glowing eyes flickered toward her as he too, obediently followed the guards. All six made their exit and the door clicking after it had been closed, leaving Lucca alone with her childhood friend.

Lucca’s anger vanished, replaced with a sinking dread.

“These people should so not have access to his technology,” she grumbled. Maybe bringing him along from the future hadn’t been the best plan, she thought.

Crono did not bother to comment. He simply glared angrily at the door.

“I told you this was a terrible idea!” she said as she resumed her pacing.

“Aren’t they always?” he replied. Lucca’s eyes snapped to her friends not liking his tone.

“Watch it!” she reprimanded. “I’m supposed to be the cynical one.”

He stared at her for a long moment, before he suddenly cracked a grin breaking into laughter.

She joined him. In spite of everything, she could always make him laugh.

…

Taban strolled through the corridors absentmindedly, glancing through the work orders on his clipboard. A sudden impact stole his attention from the never ending to do list. Papers scattered like leaves on the wind.

“I’m sorry sir!” a young errand boy squealed darting to the ground frantically collecting the disarray of pages. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“Don’t worry about it lad. I wasn’t either,” Taban reassured as he bent down to help. He grabbed a half sheet that fluttered away as another three men stomped past. Taban made himself stop collecting papers and stood, taking in the state of the complex for the first time that morning.

The corridor was alive with frantic activity as soldiers and messengers flew past, all focused on seemingly urgent tasks. Others, without chores or orders to carry out, whispered excitedly in corners, the fear of discovery that tended to keep the atmosphere silent, uneasy, and efficient had vanished. What was going on?

“Here you are sir,” the boy shoved the pile of papers into his hands. Taban took them without comment as the child darted away, standing just outside his office still in a daze. His thoughts were interrupted as a messenger strolled out of his lab.

“Hey Idani! What is all the ruckus about?” Taban asked.

“We’ve captured the princess!” the young man reported delightedly.

Taban lifted a surprised eyebrow. There had not been any evidence of the princess hiding anywhere in Guardia for almost six months.

“How’d we manage that?”

“Apparently she just marched right in with two teenagers – guess they weren’t the world’s best bodyguards. They had some fancy equipment that I just left in your lab. Commander Degen wants your report by five.”

Taban sighed. “Of course he does.”

He entered his lab expecting some kind of tool or weapon, but instead he was faced with what appeared to be a humanoid robot.

“Wow!” Taban exclaimed, approaching the device excitedly. “What have we here?” he asked.

Taban jumped back as the android turned toward him.

“You didn’t tell me it was activated,” Taban mumbled in complaint, finding it strange that the soldiers would have left the machine unguarded. He supposed they had other things to worry about.

“My name is Robo,” the synthetic voice said.

“Robo eh? Nice to meet you. I’m Taban. Let’s see what you’re capable of shall we?” he said moving to pry open the access panel.

The android stepped back.

“I would be more than willing to answer any and all of your questions about my capabilities Master Taban, but I would prefer to keep my systems accessible only to qualified engineers.”

Taban stared in shock at the machine before him.

“You’re not following a predetermined script,” Taban accused. “You’re actually responding to the situation at hand!”

“That is correct.”

Taban circled around the mechanical being barely able to contain his glee.

“Is there something about my exterior that you find intriguing?” Robo asked.

“Yes! You’re regularly proportioned and your power source has to be small enough to fit within you and provide all necessary energy for movement, cooling, processing, and memory storage.”

“I am designed to function in any environment that a humanoid can work in and several others that they cannot.”

“Environments such as?” Taban asked as he scribbled notes into his notebook.

“I can function in a vacuum or places of extreme heat or cold,” he began.

“Temperature range?” Taban interrupted.

“Approximately 0 to 365 Kelvin.”

“Loss of efficiency?”

“The exact percentage depends on the actual temperature sir. But loss of efficiency only occurs at temperatures above 322 Kelvin. And at lower temperatures I actually have increased efficiency.”

“Of course,” Taban nodded in agreement. “Reduced internal resistance at lower temperatures,” he mumbled.

“Processing ability?”

“I can process twenty quadrillion actions per second,” the robot reported.

Taban whistled in appreciation. “If only Lucca could see this,” he mumbled to himself.

“Are you referring to Lucca Ashtear, inventor of the telepod?”

Taban’s head shot up, not daring to hope. “What do you know of her?”

“Lucca found and repaired me to full functionality.”

“When did you last see her?” the eccentric inventor demanded.

“Just this morning. I arrived with her and her companions at this complex.”

Taban charged out of the room, leaving the door wide open. Robo followed him.

“I need to speak with the other prisoners,” he growled to the administrative officer sitting behind a makeshift boarded up counter.

“Which would you like us to bring up first?”

“All of them!” he barked.

The officer was quick to scurry away.

“And you!” he barked at a passing messenger, scribbling out a note. “Have this delivered to this address.”

“Yes sir.”

Taban rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned over the wooden counter aware of the mechanical android standing behind him.

He glanced up just as the officer returned with two very familiar teenagers in his wake, followed by another three guards.

But Taban’s eyes were only for his daughter.

“Lucca!” he cried embracing her roughly, her bound hands awkwardly poking into his abdomen.

“Dad?”

“I had feared the worst when I heard Crono had been executed and you never returned.”

“I’m sorry I worried you.” She mumbled into his shoulder. “How did mom take it? Is she okay?”

“I… umm…” he floundered, finally pulling away to look at her face.

“You never told her?! How have you explained my absence?” Lucca demanded.

Taban winced.

“Uh Lucca, there’s a lot going on that needs to be explained,” he said, dodging the question.

“Yeah, maybe you can explain why we seem to be under martial law,” she suggested sharply.

“Not now,” he said to her before turning back to the guards. “Unbind them!”

“But…!” the first man spluttered.

“This is my daughter!” Taban bellowed.

“Uh… yes sir!” the guard said leaping forward obediently.

“Sir?” Lucca echoed with a grin as she rubbed her wrists.

Taban grinned back in response. It was so good to see her. “Where’s the princess?” he asked the officer.

“She’s being questioned,” the man reported.

“Sir!” the same errand boy he had barreled over ran up to him and shoved a message tube into his hands.

Taban opened it with dread. These things never held good news.

He quickly scanned the short document and he felt the blood drain form his face.

“Shit!”

…

Degen smoothed the letter flat on his desk as he gleefully read through the crucial paragraph again.

To ensure your freedom, I have enclosed a map and directions
to allow yourself to escape when you need it. The secret
passageways were always meant to ensure the king could escape
if under siege. I have used it on a number of occasions when in
need of a respite. Burn it once you have familiarized yourself with
its contents.

The implications were blindingly obvious. There were secret passageways into and out of the palace. Somehow that secret had been kept for generations, now ruined by a dying mother’s love for her daughter.

All he had to do was find this access point and the resistance would be running the government.

Degen slipped the letter into a folder and signaled the guard.

“Bring her in,” he ordered.

The princess was escorted to the seat across the worn down scuffed up table. She met his gaze defiantly. The commander waited until the soldier had left before he began.

“Princess Nadia,” he greeted sweetly, “I hope you’re finding your stay agreeable.”

“I could have gone without the being locked up part,” she said icily. “Not to mention…” she’ll held up her hands showing they were bound together.

“I was hoping you might answer a few questions your highness,” he said as he unbound her, confident that he could handle the slight girl should the need arise.

“How can I help you commander?” she offered carefully.

“I need to know how to get inside the castle.”

She laughed. “There’s this grand staircase that leads to some very large doors. I don’t think you can miss it.”

“I was hoping there was another way in that you might have special knowledge of,” he offered still keeping his tone light.

She shrugged. “Sorry commander. I’m afraid that I cannot help you.”

“I think you can,” he disagreed calmly, opening the folder and pushing its contents across the table.

Her eyes widened and she visibly tensed in her seat at the sight of the letter.

“Why do you protect him?” the commander asked into the sudden silence.

Her glare sharpened. “What is it to you?”

“It’s no secret that you don’t exactly get along with your father.”

“Doesn’t mean I would betray him to the likes of you,” she countered.

“Do you know what he’s done?” Degen whispered coldly. “How many people he has imprisoned? How many he has ordered executed without trial?”

Nadia sat quivering, gripping the sides of her wooden chair.

“It’s not true,” she said, her voice trembling.

“You know that it is,” he countered harshly.

“No,” she said tears threatening to fall. “He wouldn’t… It’s not him,” she insisted.

“Then who is responsible for these?” he demanded throwing down copies of the execution orders from yet another folder.

She glanced down at the papers but her eyes remained glazed over.

“Look at them!” he demanded. “Read the names!”

The door slammed open and Taban stormed into the interrogation room.

“What’re you doing?!” the engineer demanded.

“Collecting vital intelligence,” Degen said coldly.

“You’re interrogating a child!” Taban objected.

“She’s the princess!” Degen shouted.

“She’s a seventeen year old girl!” Taban countered. “I will not see her used as a pawn. If she wants to help so be it, but you are not using her as a bargaining chip.”

“We’ll see what the Widow has to say,” Degen barked angrily jumping to his feet, enraged that this absentminded sentimental fool had ever been given equal rank to him. What had the Widow been thinking?

“The Widow,” Taban began furiously, “has standing orders not to harm any of the VIPs that are sought after. Crono and the princess are both included in that!”

“We need information!” the commander insisted.

“Have you even reported this?”

Degen glared across the table at the other man.

“That’s what I thought,” Taban said. “We will hold our guests in safehouses until such time the Widow arrives.”

“We will hold them here,” Degen countered.

“We can’t,” Taban stated flatly.

“Why not?”

“Because while you were in here torturing children, the Guardian forces noticed an increased activity in the area. Apparently you sent out one too many scouting teams in the last few hours.”

The commander blanched. “Have you ordered an evacuation?”

“Do I look like an idiot to you?”

…

Fortunately, the evacuation took all of Commander Degen’s attention, leaving Taban alone to take care of the ‘prisoners’. Taban had no intention of holding them for the Widow’s judgment. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the woman. He did. About as much as you could trust a person that would not show her face. But this was his daughter! And Crono!

Thank the fates that Gina’s household was one of their many safehouses. She certainly wouldn’t hold her own son for questioning even if the princess of Guardia was tagging along.

“You’ll have to split up,” Taban announced. “A group of four is too suspicious. Especially with you,” Taban pointed to the android.

“Four?” Lucca questioned. “What about you?”

He smiled at his daughter. “I have some things I have to take care of. But I’ll be right behind you,” he promised.

He tossed brown cloaks to each of them after returning their weapons and equipment.

“Won’t these be a give away in the middle of the day?” Crono asked even as he obediently pulled the hood over his unfortunately distinctive hair.

“Maybe that would have been true a year ago,” Taban explained sadly. “But now hiding your face is quite the fashion trend.”

“Since when have you been aware of fashion trends?” Lucca demanded jokingly of her father.

“Since fitting in has become necessary to survive,” he replied stoically. Her smile faded instantly.

Once the team had been covered in cloaks, Taban escorted them through the corridors toward the Northern exit.

“Who’s the Widow?” Marle asked as they walked.

“She organized the resistance,” Taban explained.

“Should you be telling us this?” Crono asked.

Taban barked a laugh. “I haven’t told you anything the chancellor doesn’t already know lad.”

“So who is she?” Marle asked again.

“If I knew, I probably wouldn’t tell you that. But to be completely honest, I have no idea.”

“Then how’d you get recruited?”

“It started out as letters. She initially just asked for my expertise for an odd job or two. Then she asked for help in smuggling out civilians next on the execution list for something ridiculous. Then smuggling in supplies. And before I knew it, I was running half the operation.”

“Half?”

“Well, maybe not half.”

“And she’s only contacted you through letters?”

“No, she’s come in. She comes in all the time. She runs this whole thing. But she always wears an opaque black veil that covers her face – that’s how she earned her name.”

“So where are you sending us?” Crono asked. “Where are these safehouses?”

Taban grinned. “I’m sending you and the princess to your mother.”

“My mother?” Crono guffawed. “My mother joined the resistance?”

Taban’s eyes turned serious. “Seeing as you were one of the first victims of an unfair trials, she was not difficult to recruit.”

“She thinks I’m dead?” Crono asked, his voice suddenly flat.

Taban considered the young man in front of him. “The official records say that you were executed, but she and I have never truly believed them.”

“Why not?”

“Because you are still a wanted fugitive,” Taban reported. “Why would they post wanted signs if you had already been executed?”

…

Gina’s head snapped up at the rhythmic tap at her kitchen window. She forced herself to wait a full ten minutes before leaving for her garden to ‘water the plants’.

It was the exact wrong time of day to water the plants – the midday sun combined with water could fry the tender green leaves. But her neighbors were not aware enough of the process of nurturing foliage and vegetables to know that, if they were even watching her.

Gina retrieved the message left in an empty unused potted plant, dreading the news. Good news did not tend to arrive in the middle of the day.

The king’s army seemed to be targeting resistance strongholds with continuing accuracy. She suspected a leak. And still there was no evidence of her son. Not that she expected there to be.

The note was not encrypted and contained two words: Expect company. She recognized Taban’s handwriting. And she scowled at the lack of details.

Refugees arriving in the middle of the day? That suggested the loss of another stronghold.

Unfortunately Gina, in her role of grieving mother, could not do anything about the strategic loss in that moment. She sighed moving back inside to prepare her home for invasion of resistance agents hiding from the government.

The household tidying didn’t take long. She also spent time arming traps to slow down pursuers if she should be searched. But Gina had already been exposed to a ‘random’ search that week. She figured that she would have at least a fortnight before the authorities invaded her home again.

“Mom?” the voice echoed through the empty household.

She looked up from her task, taking in the filthy blue tunic and shocking red hair standing in the doorway.

“Crono?” She leapt to her feet in tears and tackled him. “Crono! I thought I’d lost you!”

“Mom, I’m fine,” he soothed her. She did not loosen her grip at all.

“You’re all I have left,” she cried.

“I know Mom,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. If I could have let you know I was okay – I would have.”

She jerked away from him with a sudden scowl on her face.

“Just where in hell have you been these past six months?!” she demanded. Crono cringed.

“Umm… that’s actually difficult to explain.”

“Start talking young man!”

“Mom, you’d never believe me.”

“Try me!”

“Excuse me Mrs. Triggara,” a female voice interjected. “But I think I can explain.”

Gina jumped, startled at the girl’s presence. Her name was Marle, she recalled distantly. She took in the blond hair and green eyes and her eyes narrowed suddenly. The girl hesitated.

“Well? Go on!” Gina prompted when Marle just stood there silently.

“Umm… Well, you know how the telepod transports people from one place to another?” At Gina’s nod Marle continued. “Something went wrong and it transported us to some other place that was really far away. And it took us this long to get back.”

“Where exactly was this other place?” Gina questioned.

“It was a small community,” Marle insisted. “You probably have never heard of it.”

“Really?” His mother arched an eyebrow. Crono sighed. She wasn’t buying it at all.

“Umm… It was called Arris,” Marle filled in hastily.

“Arris?” his mother repeated skeptically. When his mother looked at him he nodded confirmation enthusiastically. “Was this a street? A town? A country?” she asked.

“Uh… a town I guess,” Marle said uncertainly.

“If you can call a few dozen people a town,” Crono added in. Marle scowled at him.

“What?!” Crono asked defensively. “It’s true! There could only have been forty or fifty people living in that dome.”

“Crono!” Marle began, but then Gina held up her hands to silence them both.

“Let’s start over, shall we?” she said with false sweetness. “Now, I thought you had already fixed the problem with the telepod.”

“Well, we had. This time, we kind of did it on purpose,” Crono admitted.

“Why?” she asked clamping down on the impatience that was growing exponentially.

“Umm… Well, we were running away from the palace guards.” Crono said. Silence greeted this pronouncement.

“You really were going to be executed,” it was not a question. She had read the report herself.

Crono nodded.

“For Treason by Premeditated Abduction of Royalty,” Gina finished, turning her glare toward the girl.

“Which brings us to you, your highness” she said coldly.

“Mrs. Triggara. I am so sorry. This whole thing is my fault,” the blond girl admitted, bowing her head in guilt.

“No, it isn’t,” Crono disagreed firmly.

“Why can’t you just go home then?” Gina demanded harshly. “Your constant irresponsible sojourns have brought danger to my son and have resulted in the entire kingdom being placed under martial law!”

“Mom!” Crono shouted. “This is not Marle’s fault! We tried to go back. That’s when I got arrested. Marle helped to break me out of prison - that’s why she can’t go back. And mom, I can’t stay here for long either. I’d be found.”

Gina felt the tears threatening to spill, but she forced them back. She was stronger than this.

Crono moved forward and rubbed her back soothingly again.

She clung to him grateful that he was here with her, in this moment. She finally forced herself to push him away, her self indulgence needed to end. There were things to be done.

“Crono I need you to close up the shutters. Taban informed me to expect refugees.”

He just stared at her for a moment. “Uh… mom? I think we’re the refugees,” he said gesturing to himself and the princess.

“Of course you are,” she responded numbly. Where was her mind today? They were both VIPs sought after by both sides. The Widow had left orders to have them both detained, but not harmed. Taban of course, with his gentle heart, had sent her son home. On paper, it would appear he was following his orders. It was up to her to decide whether to leave them to the clutches of the unforgiving Widow or to let him ‘slip free’.

Some choice.

Oh the irony.

“Which means that you cannot be seen. So please… attend to the shutters,” she directed distantly.

“Yes mom,” he grinned before leaping up the stairs three at a time.

“Be careful!” she called after him. It’d be painfully ironic if he had escaped execution only to break his neck falling down the stairs.

…

Lucca turned the weathered brass knob and was startled to discover the door locked. Her parents never locked the door! She swallowed, suddenly nervous and knocked.

“You’re late!” her mother lamented through the door. “You were supposed to be here hours…” she trailed off as the door swung open.

“Lucca!” she said in shock from her wheel chair vantage point. Lucca dove down into her mother’s arms.

“Lucca! What are you doing here?” Lara demanded even as she clutched her daughter soothingly, “Your father told me that you had been smuggled south! To Porre!”

“Umm… well, my placement wasn’t working out anymore. Crono and I got into some trouble like we always do and now we’re wanted by the local authorities,” Lucca explained rather quickly.

“Lucca,” her mother’s eyes narrowed into thin slits as she scowled.

“Dad can explain more mom,” Lucca reassured. “Can we come in?”

Robo chose that moment to remove his hood.

“What is that?” Lara demanded. “You know how I feel about inventions in the house!”

“Robo’s not an invention mom! He’s a friend!”

“A friend?” she repeated, skepticism dripping from her voice.

“Good afternoon Madam Ashtear. It is an honor to make your acquaintance,” the android greeted offering a robotic arm.

Lara’s jaw dropped.

Lucca grinned.

Her mother took his mechanical hand nervously.

“Robo, was it?” she repeated.

He nodded in confirmation.

“You and your father have a lot of explaining to do,” Lara said, throwing her daughter a disgruntled look.

“Good to see you too, mom.”

…

Taban came in through the back as he always did when he arrived home after dark. Less for the neighbors to see. The house was entirely too quiet. Jivan’s squad should have been crowding the corners and driving his wife half mad with inappropriate stories and language.

“Exactly when were you planning on informing me that my daughter was missing?” Lara demanded from behind.

Taban winced at the ice in his wife’s voice. But he forced himself to face her.

“Lara, I didn’t want you to fret.”

“Fret? The two of you keep me ignorant because you don’t want me to fret?” Lara raged darting forward, bumping her useless legs into his knees.

One might think that Lara would be at a disadvantage trapped as she was in her wheel chair, but Taban knew from experience that the chair barely slowed the woman down.

“Where has she been if not in Porre?!” Lara demanded.

“Lara, is there any way we can talk about this on the morrow?” Taban pleaded. “The troops should have arrived well before I got home.”

“Taban Ashtear, I know fully well that you are merely stalling. That you have no intention of speaking of this at all. I may be sentenced to life in this chair, but that does not mean that my mind has grown faulty. I do not need to be protected. And while I understand you needing to keep a lot of details secret, I expect to be kept informed if my daughter is in danger!”

“Mom, I’m fine!” Lucca tried to interject, but her mother’s death glare sent her back into silence. Taban sighed.

“Lara,” Taban began, “Lucca and I went to the palace to…”

A sharp knock interrupted his explanation.

Taban leapt toward the door.

“Jivan?”

“Taban, I’ve got wounded men here.”

…

Heavy teardrops fell onto the worn crinkled page as Marle let herself read the letter one last time under the flickering candlelight, remembering the day Natalie had handed it to her.

“What is it child?”her mother’s lady maid, Natalie, asked.

“I hate my father!”Nadia screeched.

“Surely, you don’t mean that,” the maid said gently.

“He doesn’t understand anything!”

“Well, he probably doesn’t understand young teenage girls.”

“I wish my mother were here,” she sobbed.

“I guess it’s time then.”

“Time for what?” the princess asked.

“Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

“Natalie!” Nadia called after her, but the maid did not acknowledge the princess. Instead, Nadia had to sit wringing her own hands waiting for the woman to return.

Natalie came back with a simple ivory envelope with Nadia’s name spelled out in gold calligraphy.

Nadia stared at the letter in disbelief.

“Is it from…?” the young princess asked, unable to finish the question less she jinx the answer.

Natalie merely smiled. “Go on! Open it!” she insisted.

Nadia tore open the unbelievable gift and her eyes drank in every word.

My dearest daughter,
October 11, 989

The healers tell me I will be fine, but I have seen the glances they
give one another and your father’s distress only continues to mount.
I know that my time is coming to an end and I find my thoughts are
filled with you and I wanted you to know them. To that end, I am
having this delivered to you once you are old enough to understand.

You, my little marvel, are princess and heir to the throne of the Royal
House of Guardia, and as such, you will receive the best education
and the finest luxuries available, as befits your status. Though any
woman would want these things for her daughter, I fear you will stay
locked up in this prison they call a palace.

I was raised away from court and I am not what you would call a
proper or traditional lady. My father took me hunting as often as
my mother took me to tea. He taught me to use a crossbow and she
taught me to dance. I was always encouraged to explore any interest
that I had, propriety not withstanding.

And then, I met your father. Some sacrifices had to be made in
order to be accepted as a suitable queen. They were more than worth
it because I was able to share my life with your father and our union
granted us you.

Your father, much as I love the man, can be more traditional and a
bit overprotective of you. I can only imagine it will become worse
after I am gone. Please forgive him for this and know that he does it
because he loves you.

As for wwhat I want for you, my daughter – I hope you learn to laugh
and to love. You must have sunshine caress your face and wild winds
guiding your path. You must see the world in order to learn to live in
it. For you, this is even more important – you must understand what
it is to live in the realm you will one day lead.

I know that you will live up to your responsibilities, but I do hope
that you do so as yourself and not necessarily as a polite little lady
that everyone expects and wants you to be. I hope you continue to
always keep everyone, especially your father, on his toes as you do
now at five years of age. The royal court needs to be pushed off
balance once in awhile and your father needs the excitement.

When you fall in love Nadia do not let rules and traditions stand
in your way. You will have to sacrifice a lot of your wishes and
desires for the benefit of your kingdom, but your happiness
should never be one of them.

To ensure your freedom, I have enclosed a map and directions
to allow yourself to escape when you need it. The secret
passageways were always meant to ensure the king could escape
if under siege. I have used it on a number of occasions when in
need of a respite. Burn it once you have familiarized yourself with
its contents.

I find my deepest regret is that I will not be able to see the lovely
young woman you will turn into. You are my pride and joy,
precocious thing that you are even now. You always bring a smile
to my face. I have so many dreams and wishes for you. I am
saddened that I won’t be able to share them with you. Know that I
love you dearly and that I miss you completely.

In My Own Hand
Your Mother
Aliza

The tears continued to fall silently as Marle pushed the corner of the page into the dancing flame. She should have destroyed the letter years ago.

She didn’t know what was going on in Guardia. She didn’t know why her father had allowed the poltical climate to devolve into its current state, but she couldn’t bring herself to give the resistance the information it wanted and no one else could even know the information existed. As angry as she was with her father she didn’t want him dead or dethroned.

She made herself watch as the glowing flame slowly spread across the page turning black first, and then falling into ashes.

“What are you doing?”

Marle jumped at the question. She hadn’t heard Crono come up the stairs.

“Destroying evidence,” she said softly. He glanced at the slowing burning letter. His eyes widened.

“Wasn’t that from your mother?” he asked urgently.

She nodded. “She wrote it to me when she found out she was dying. I don’t need it anymore. I don’t know why I even bother to read it. I’ve memorized the whole thing. I should have burned it ages ago. I didn’t and now the Resistance knows…” she broke down into sobs.

His arms enveloped her as she sobbed brokenly. He asked no questions, just rocked her back and forth. Eventually, her tears ebbed, but still Crono held her.

“Do you think he knows what’s going on in town?” she asked into the silence.

Crono said nothing.

“Is he responsible for it?”

“Do you want to go see your father?” he finally asked, pulling back just far enough so she could focus on his concerned face. “Since you know a secret way into the castle, perhaps we don’t have to worry about being captured.”

Marle bit her lip, mentally reviewing all the passageways that she knew of.

“There is one that might work, but…”

“Well then, let’s go!” he interrupted forestalling her objections. He jumped to his feet and offered her his hand.

“What about all those patrols?” she asked hesitantly.

“We’ll be careful,” he assured her.

She looked up into his clear eyes. He would really do this – risk returning to the palace if it was what she needed or wanted.

She took his hand and let him pull her up.

…

Lucca stared at the ceiling with eyes wide open. Robo’s glowing yellow eyes cast a dim illumination through the otherwise dark room, showing her the ridges and bumps in the roof overhead. She could also make out the clutter of projects, discarded books and manuals that littered the floor.

She rolled over on her side with a dramatic sigh. She couldn’t sleep. She kept thinking of the soldiers that she and Robo had patched up under her mother’s direction. She had seen some gruesome injuries before so it wasn’t the gruesome wound and blood that bothered her.

No, it was more that this could happen at all. In Truce! During her time. From her perspective, a mere three weeks ago she had been demonstrating an amazing invention at an international festival where anyone and everyone was welcome to attend! No one was searched, stopped, or questioned, let alone attacked. How could things have deteriorated so quickly?

“This was my first opportunity to observe a domestic interaction,” Robo commented into the silence.

Lucca shook her head in amazement. Of all the revelations that had occurred this evening, she couldn’t believe that Robo chose to focus on her dysfunctional family.

“Learn anything interesting?” she asked.

“I am confused. According to my database, a husband and wife are supposed to be partners in life. Why would Taban keep secrets from his wife? And why does he seem afraid of her? Why is she so angry?”

Lucca almost laughed. Almost.

“Life is usually more complicated than a textbook definition Robo,” she said sadly.

“I see.”

Lucca doubted the robot understood at all, but she suspected that he wanted to.

“My father feels responsible for my mother’s paralysis and he feels like he has to protect her in all things.

“Is he?”

“Is he what?”

“Responsible for your mother’s paralysis?”

“No, not really. It was an accident.”

“Then why does he feel responsible?”

“It was an accident that shouldn’t have happened,” she whispered.

“That makes no logical sense,” the android objected.

“Well, humans aren’t always logical,” she explained sadly. “I understand how he feels because I felt the same way.”

…

Marle led Crono along a forest path, though she wasn’t certain it really deserved the label of path. Greenery, rocks and twigs cluttered the ground haphazardly, slowing their progress – especially in the dark.

They had somehow made it through town without being stopped by any patrols. She clutched the heavy brown cloak around herself thankful for the anonymity it granted. The number of armed guards throughout the city scared her more than anything. One would think the city officials would make one feel safer, but in reality their presence was oppressive.

Distracted by her thoughts, she stumbled over an unseen obstacle. Crono somehow had a hand out at her side, steadying her. She smiled gratefully at him before she turned her attention back toward the ground.

She lead them up a steep incline directly toward the palace, and after they passed a particular tree she had always used as her landmark, she moved back down the hill toward a hidden crevasse that you could only access from interior side.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” he whispered urgently. She grinned. He must have noticed that they had doubled back.

“Of course I do. I’m just following the secret path.”

“You call this a path?” Crono asked, echoing her earlier thoughts.

“Shh!” she hissed even as she pulled him off the ‘path’ into the lush undergrowth. Brambles and twigs tore against his clothing.

She glanced up toward the main road leading to the palace watching as a four man marched past – only a few hundred feet away.

“Gods! The security is thick!” Crono hissed after the danger had passed.

“It’s like we’re at war,” Marle whispered.

She turned to her companion urgently. “You don’t think we are, do you?” fear dripping from her voice.

“We kind of are Marle,” he said gently. “A civil war.”

She turned away for him and continued forward. She would not cry. This was not the time.

…

Lucca slipped down the stairs, following the whispers of low voices coming from the kitchen. Her father, mother, and the captain sat around the small square table. The older woman smiled at her daughter as Lucca joined them.

“I think they more than suspect! You can’t go back!” her father was saying.

“I have to. If I run – I’m leaving so many of my men behind, completely unprotected.”

“If you get arrested you’ll be able to do even less for them. With the way things have been going this’ll be a death sentence.”

“What do you mean, the way things have been going?” Lucca asked again, hoping to get some answers finally. Jivan didn’t share her father’s tendency to avoid topics he’s rather not talk about.

“Where have you been?” The Guardian Capatain asked, turning towards her in astonishment. “All of the northern continent has been placed under martial law since the princess was kidnapped.”

“Since the princess was kidnapped?” Lucca repeated flatly.

“Not that that’s the real reason. It’s just an excuse to sieze power. It’s like all the soldiers, judges, lawyers, and generals went insane!”

“What if they didn’t?” Lucca asked.

“What do you mean?” her father asked.

“Four hundred years ago, the chancellor was kidnapped and replaced with an imposter. A mystic that used magic to change his form and appearance,” she explained.

“That’s nothing more than an old wive’s tale,” Jivan scoffed.

Her father eyed her seriously. He knew where she had been the first time she had disappeared.

“What makes you suspect Mystic involvement Lucca?” he asked.

“When I rescued Crono, some of the guards… weren’t… human.”

All three of the adults starred at her. Jivan eventually gestured for her to go on.

“We stole some armor off of some guards that we had uh… knocked out, so we could move to the upper levels without being noticed. One of the guards was a gargoyle. I think he was in disguise, but he couldn’t maintain the illusion while unconscious,” she explained, biting her lower lip nervously.

“What if your team wasn’t attacked because they suspect Jivan?” Taban asked. “What if this was an attempt to take you in and replace you with a doppleganger.”

“Then escaping to Porre does no good,” Jivan growled out. “In fact, it plays right into their hands.”

“Except we would know,” Lara suggested slyly. “We could pretend that we didn’t and feed all kinds of false information.”

Lucca threw a startled glance at her mother. When had the woman become so calculating?

“That’s actually not a bad idea,” Jivan commented. “What if we…”

Lucca tuned out the rest of the strategy session, her mind still awhirl. She put her head down into her arms and before she realized it she was shaking with silent sobs. She felt her father’s warm hand on her back as he silently soothed her. She did not acknowledge the contact, but she was grateful for it just the same.

She heard a chair scratch across the floor as the captain stood up and left.

“Lucca, are you alright?” her father asked into the silence a moment later.

She looked up at him trying to control her tears and shook her head. She glanced towards her mother, only to find an empty space. Lucca hadn’t realized her mother had left to give her and her father some space as well.

“It’s just… everything is so messed up. You disappear for a few weeks and you come back and your world has torn itself apart,” she leaned into his chest.

“It’s been more than a few weeks Lucca. All this happened gradually.”

She nodded. “I know, but we saw some things dad. Some ugly things. And all I wanted was to come home where the world still made sense… and now…” she dissolved into tears once again.

“Shhh,” he soothed as he rocked her slowly.

“It’s good to see that you and mom are okay. I’m glad to be here for that reason alone.”

He pushed her away so that he could see her face. His eyes filled with worry.

“Lucca, you can’t stay here. They find you here and you are as good as dead. You should head out on the next boat with this batch. Crono too.”

“Dad, I can’t go to Porre. Crono and I have something that we have to do. But I promise you, we’ll be out of the Guardia’s reach.”

“It’s dangerous isn’t it?” Taban said. It wasn’t really a question.

“What makes you say that?”

“You didn’t say what it was.”

“Dad, I…”

“No, don’t tell me. I’m sure I’m already worried enough and I would rather not have to keep more secrets from your mother.”

“If we don’t come back I just…”

“Don’t you dare!” he hissed.

“Dad, I’m…”

She cut herself off as he pushed his chair back violently as he stood up.

“I have something for you,” he said. She followed him into the hallway where he pulled something from the closet.

“Here, take this,” he said handing her a small heap of slightly shiny material. She let the bottom half of the garment fall toward the ground, revealing a jumpsuit that would have been perfect for working on her projects.

“The fabric is made of a plastic composite. It’s almost fireproof! I figured it suited you. I had figured that if you went to Porre you would continue working on our experiments and that this would help keep you safe if they happened to go… awry.”

“Dad, this is amazing,” she said softly.

“If your mother asks, you’re going to Porre with these soldiers…”

“Dad, I think you should stop keeping secrets from her. It only makes her feel useless. Let her participate in your strategy sessions. She apparently has a lot to contribute.”

…

Marle slipped through the passageway into her father’s chambers. His figure seemed lost in the huge four poster bed. He sat up in alarm with the low rumbling of the walls.

“Who’s there?” he called gruffly.

“Father! You’re okay!” Marle threw herself into his arms. He grunted, at the sudden unexpected impact. “With the events in town and the patrols, I was so worried something had happened to you!”

“Nadia?” he asked, dazed.

“Yes father, it’s me. What is going on?” she asked.

“You vanished,” he said. “I devoted every resource at my disposal to find you.”

“You did all this to find me?” her voice broke.

“Of course. What father wouldn’t?”

“All the soldiers, they are abusing the citizens Father! It has to stop.”

“Well, there’s hardly a need for it now is there?” he said caressing her hair. She forced herself not to squirm under the tender gesture. Such physical displays from her father were rare.

“I can’t stay father. Not right now,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?” He asked harshly, pulling away. “Of course you will stay.”

“There’s something I have to do first. But I promise I’ll be back.”

“Back? From where? Your responsibility is to the kingdom! You should not be traipsing idly through the countryside with commoners!”

“I am well aware of my responsibilities! Which is more than I can say for you!” she countered loudly.

“Marle,” Crono said warningly.

“Evidently not,” he said coldly glancing at her companion. “You spend your time with felons.”

“Crono is not a felon!” she screamed. She took a deep breadth and tried to calm herself. “And we have something that we have to do. So for now, I’m afraid we have to stay gone for awhile.”

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that,” the king said coldly. “Guards!”

The soldiers immediately poured in.

Marle leapt to her feet and stood between the guards and Crono. She immediately called ice to her hands. She let it gather and build on her hand before letting it creep outwards in a vertical circle, creating a wall between her and her potential pursuers. The guards froze for a moment in shock before beating futilely on her now thick icy barrier.

She suddenly couldn’t meet her father’s eyes, too afraid of the condemnation she might find there. Instead, she pulled Crono back towards the passageway.

“Daddy, please don’t hurt anyone else because of me,” she begged softly. “I love you.”

…

Lucca knocked on the door twice before opening it herself and stepping into the Trigarra household with Robo in her wake. In many ways it was like a second home to her.

“Lucca!” Gina greeted delightedly as if she had been gone for a summer trip and not missing for the however many months. She spared barely a glance at the mechanical monstrosity following her son’s best friend. “I hardly see you these days! To what, do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hi Gina,” Lucca said with a grin. Gina’s ability to take anything and everything in stride like it was completely normal always amazed Lucca. “Just the usual. Need Crono’s help with something.”

Gina turned serious. “Promise me, that you’ll keep him out of trouble, Lucca. You always had better sense than he.”

Lucca felt tongue-tied. “Yeah, of course Gina. Always.”

“Good,” she said, her bright smile returning. “He’s not in at the moment, but I suspect he’ll be back any time now.”

“Oh my! Is this one of your inventions Lucca?” Gina asked, finally turning toward her android companion.

Lucca shook her head. “More of a discovery.”

“Hello Madame Triggara. My name is Robo,” he greeted offering a metal hand.

Gina took it gingerly. “Pleasure to meet you Robo.”

“The pleasure is mine. We very much appreciate your hospitality.”

Gina grinned. “My how polite you are! You could definitely teach my son a thing or two.”

“What is it that I need to be taught?” Crono asked as he came in through the door, Marle in his wake.

“Oh nothing much. Just some manners,” Gina replied mildly.

Crono scowled.

“Crono, why don’t you invite your friends upstairs?” she suggested, ignoring his expression. “I’ll bring up a snack in a few minutes.”

Crono looked less than mollified, but he complied. Lucca settled on the floor between Crono and Robo and across from Marle. Rascal, Crono’s cat, immediatelty claimed her lap and Lucca obediently stroked the feline. She nuzzled her face into Lucca’s hand causing her to grin.

A few minutes later, Gina came in with the promised snacks and drinks. A wave of nostalgia crashed upon the young inventor. No matter how much things fell apart, some things just never changed.

“Thank you Gina,” Lucca said sincerely taking a tall clear glass from her platter.

“Yes, thank you Mrs. Triggara,” Marle echoed.

“So…” Crono began once his mother made her exit down the stairs once again. “What do you guys want to do?”

“I believe the plan was to travel to the Middle Ages and prevent the Mystic King from calling forth the entity known as Lavos,” Robo reported.

“Yes Robo,” Lucca said flatly. “We know that. The real question is are we ready to leave this party?”

“Party?” the android repeated. “A party is defined as a celebration of an event or a gathering of friends… I’m not sure it fits this context.”

The three humans laughed at the robot’s confusion.

“Trust me Robo,” Lucca reassured. “It does. I’ll explain it to you later.”

“So, are we ready to leave then?” Crono asked again, suddenly sober.

“I don’t know… Leaving right now feels like we’re running away,” Marle admitted.

“Leaving to another time period would be most logical,” Robo pointed out. “Crono and yourself are highly wanted fugitives and Lucca can be used as a hostage against one of the resistance leaders.”

“Would you rather stay?” Crono asked his best friend gently.

Lucca shook her head. “I can’t help them. And Robo’s right. Staying puts them at greater risk than they already are. They’re better off with me completely out of reach.”

Her eyes threatened tears and Crono immediately embraced his oldest friend as she shook with silent sobs. It was quiet for a long time.

“Maybe I should,” Marle said into the silence.

“What?” Crono asked, turning toward her.

“If I stayed, maybe my father would lift martial law.”

“But you’d lose all your freedom,” Crono objected.

“But my responsibility is to the welfare of the people in this kingdom. Not to myself. If losing my freedom meant everyone got theirs, it’d be worth it,” Marle countered sadly.

Crono shifted uncomfortably. It was obvious to Lucca that he had no rebuttal, but the princess’s statement didn’t sit well with him.

“Historically, when martial law has been enacted it is rarely lifted even once the initial problem has been resolved. If you were to remain here, according to my admittedly limited historical database, there would be a 14% chance that martial law would be lifted,” Robo reported.

“I think it’s probably even less than that,” Lucca commented sadly. “Captain Anderosa said that this really had nothing to do with the princess. That the chancellor was just using her disappearance as an excuse to seize power.”

“And if you go back, the Chancellor can use you against the king just as mch as he can use Lucca against her father,” Crono added.

“I hate to just leave my father alone with him,” Marle admitted.

“Yeah,” Lucca agreed softly. “I understand exactly how you feel.”

“I think we should all go,” Crono argued firmly. “We put all our families at greater risk by staying and right now there’s nothing we can do to fix any of this.”

Lucca and Marle both nodded soberly.

“Let’s go and see if we can change the past. Then maybe none of this will have happened anymore.”

…

Taban stomped into the dark cellar and took a seat heavily next to Degen. He merely grunted at the commander by way of greeting. Degen did not acknowledge the greeting in anyway. Taban was fine with that. He didn’t feel much like conversation anyway.

He had said good-bye to Lucca that morning before she went off to save the world or whatever it was that she and Crono were up to. Who knew how long she’d be gone. He refused to even consider that she might not come back.

Then Lara had given him the silent treatment after he told her where Lucca was actually going. That’s what he got for coming clean.

And after that, he had received the summons to this meeting. With as many strongholds as the resistance had lost in the last two weeks it was bound to be an unpleasant few hours. Not to mention, Crono and the princess had probably ‘escaped’ by now so his head would be on a platter for that as well.

He idly cracked his knuckles waiting for the Widow to arrive. He did not have to wait long. The woman arrived with her black veil draped carefully over her face. She glided smoothly down the stairs into the dimly lit room. Both men stood as she entered and remained standing until she took her own seat.

“Gentlemen,” she greeted coldly with a slight nod of her head. “I feel I must remind you both that we do not have the resources nor the access to intelligence to be able to afford to waste any of it on irrational and emotionally driven decision making.”

“Commander, in your excitement with the prize you had in hand, you became impatient and revealed your position.”

“Ma’am, I accept full responsibility,” Degen was quick to apologize. “I did believe at the time, that acting quickly was imperative before the Guardian forces were aware that we had captured the princess.”

“How would they have known?” the widow asked gently. “You didn’t kidnap her from the palace. They had no idea where she was.”

“With the loss of a few key locations I have come to suspect that we have a security breach.”

She nodded. “I concur, but will get to that problem in a moment.” She turned her attention toward Taban. He felt himself sit up slightly taller.

“And you made the sentimental mistake of sending Crono Triggara to his own mother,” the woman scolded harshly.

Degen whipped around and glared at him accusingly.

“Of course the woman would not hold him. Tactical mistake, but one I can understand considering your history with the boy. Did it not occur to you to isolate the princess?”

Taban glared in defiance. “The princess is not an enemy. Holding her would have turned her and the crown against us.”

“The crown is already against us!” Degen objected.

“I’m no longer certain that it is,” Taban responded.

“Please explain,” the woman said patiently.

Taban explained what he and Jivan had discovered with his daughter’s account of breaking Crono out of prison.

“So where does that leave us gentleman?”

“If they can impersonate our men as Taban suggests, we are in trouble ma’am. We can’t trust anyone.”

Chapter Text

Light streamed from the window as Leene’s feathered quill spiraled elegantly across the surface of heavy vellum ivory paper. She had much more delicate stationary available to her, but she knew that her father preferred the hardier and more practical materials. She stopped, suddenly uncertain of how to continue her letter, tapping the feather against the edge of her husband’s mahogany desk as she searched for words.

Her thoughts jumped once again to Alexander’s campaign. She could not dispute the benefit to morale that the king’s presence in the field brought. Except everytime she watched him ride away on her father’s magnificent black steed, she could not help but wonder if he would come back alive and whole.

She brought the pen back to the page thinking of the gift her father had sent just two fortnights past.

I finally managed to persuade his majesty that riding a
mount that was no longer whole did not make him any
less of man. It took weeks. However, after a simple
afternoon ride with the magnificent Black Prince without
struggles for dominance, my husband relented to your
common good sense father. You have trained the beast well
and he honors his namesake. I believe Cyrus would
have been pleased with…

An unexpected jolt in her now bulging abdomen sent her inkwell sprawling across the page, splashing shining black ink all over her desk. She could not bring herself to care about the now ruined letter, or even the antique furniture. Instead she pressed her ink-splotched hand to the pulsing kick of the child within her.

Tears sprang to her eyes at the sign of life she had never before felt and her own pulse quickened in excitement. She glanced up at the sound of footsteps, eager to share the experience with anyone within reach.

“Paige!” Leene shouted excitedly at the sight of her maid. “The baby is kicking! You must feel this!” She entreated.

The other woman smiled, but the expression failed to reach the other woman’s eyes. She did not come forward at the queen’s request.

“Paige?” Leene asked looking up at her friend uncertainly. Her maid should have been far more excited.

“Your majesty,” the younger woman began, her voice trembling.

Leene felt her elation fade as the pounding of her heart took on a new meaning entirely.

“What has happened?” the queen forced herself to ask.

Paige stared down into her own carefully clasped hands, unable to meet her eyes. “The king has been gravely wounded, your majesty,” she reported.

Leene did not wait for the rest of the explanation. Instead she tore past the younger woman, past lavish tapestries portraying historical battles and portraits of long dead monarchs, past open mouthed servants, and into the king’s chambers.

Her vision spun. Healers and soldiers swarmed around the open quarters. Soldiers stood to the perimeter arguing heatedly. Medics barked orders at one another rapidly removing and replacing blood soaked sutures. He was losing so much blood – so rapidly.

The queen forced herself forward, suppressing the bile that rose from her throat as she came to her husband’s side. Raw and torn muscles lay exposed along the right side of his chest. She stared in disbelief, hardly daring to breathe.

“His lung is punctured – I need pressure here!” the healer shouted at an underling who was quick to comply – pushing the queen gently out of the way.

She knew it was a lost cause. She had visited other wounded men – ones that didn’t look half as bad as her husband. They hadn’t made it. She knew he didn’t have a chance. It was amazing that he still drew breath at all. Her face crumpled in grief.

“Your majesty!” Captain Einar Bridane exclaimed in concern, suddenly noticing her presence.

She quickly schooled her face into a semblance of control as she swallowed a cry. More than anything she wanted to fall into the captain’s comforting arms and fall to pieces. But she could mourn later. Now, Guardia needed her.

“Einar…” she said suppressing her tears, never turning her attention away from her husband’s painridden expression. “What happened?” she demanded, ignoring the momentary loss of her equilibrium.

“Your majesty…” he began looking down at his own hands, “I… I’m sorry. We were at the rear with the honor guard. But somehow… they flanked us. We were lucky to get out of there at all.”

“We lost the Zenan continent,” she finished, her stomach squirming with a sudden wave of nausea.

“Yes, your majesty,” he confirmed with a shameful bow of his head. “We did manage to…”

The healer sighed dramatically and her attention shifted back toward her husband.

“That’s all we can do,” he said to his team, pulling the mask from his face.

“Save the detailed report for the generals, Captain.” she interrupted the Knight Captain with a wave, moving back to her husband’s side.

She placed her palm on her husband’s forehead. He moaned deliriously at her touch.

“How long?” she asked, looking up at the healer – never taking her hand away.

“Days at most, your majesty,” he reported sadly.

“Will he awaken?” she asked so softly she could barely hear her own words.

“I believe he will. We have him stable for the moment, but he has lost the use of a lung and has lost far too much blood.”

“And there is nothing else you can do?”

He shook his head sadly.

She nodded stoically. “Please clear the room,” she ordered. Soldiers disbanded quickly with promises of detailed reports that afternoon. Healers scurried collecting their bags of mysterious equipment.

“Your majesty,” a messenger greeted with a quick bow as he came smartly to her side.

“I just ordered the room clear,” she stated distantly.

“And I’m sorry to disturb you your majesty, but there is a boy to see you.”

“A boy?” she repeated flatly. “Does this look like it’s a good time for me to entertain children?”

“I understand that your majesty, but…”

“We at at war!” she roared, suddenly grateful to have something tangible to take out her anger on. “The king has fallen wounded in battle!”

“Your majesty!” the messenger interrupted firmly. “He has the Hero’s Medal!”

Her objections died on her tongue as she took in his words. “He has the Hero’s Medal?” she repeated.

“Yes, I thought you would want to see him right away.”

“Leene,” the king croaked.

“I’m right here my love,” she said coming to his side, relieved to hear his voice.

“Tell Cyrus… I’ve still not… forgiven him… for abandon…ing his command,” her husband whispered.

Leene’s struggle to maintain her composure shattered. What the king had never known was that Cyrus had never abandoned his position and duty. She had ordered him to go.

.

“What is this?” Cyrus demanded, waving a handful of decade old reports in her face.

“It’s a way to end the war.”

“Leene,” he scolded the way only an older brother could. “It’s a legend. Have you given up so completely, that you turn to myths and gods? They have never heard our prayers before – what makes you think they would now?”

She handed him another stack of documents – a set that told quite a different story.

She watched as his his eyes eagerly soaked in the words.

“You know where the mythical blade lies?” he whispered in disbelief.

She knew much more than that. She knew what it took to wield the weapon. She also knew what it would cost if he didn’t succeed.

He flipped over the last page, searching for more information.

“What’s the catch?” he demanded softly, knowing her too well.

“It truly is a magical relic. It tests any who would attempt to weild it, both in strength of mind and skill with the blade.”

If he were to fail, his mind would break – insanity would haunt him forever.

She left out this detail.

He considered her carefully. She remained stoic, unflinching in his gaze. He knew she was holding something back.

“I’ll do it,” he agreed with a whisper. “I will find this… Masamune and weild it against the fiendlord.”

She closed her eyes against his words. It had been too easy.

“Leene,” he said reassuringly.

“I wish it didn’t have to be you…” she sobbed. “I just… don’t… see another way.”

He clutched her to him. “I know…” he whispered. “I think this is something that I have to do. I cannot let this pointless war go on any second longer than necessary. Not if there’s something I can do to end it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go alone.”

“Now there’s a thought,” he said distantly, as he peered down at the documents.

“There’s no one to spare,” she insisted.

“You said the blade tests one’s spirit and skill with the blade,” he said, idly tapping the ancient document.

Leene’s heart skipped a beat. No… he wouldn’t…

“He won’t help you,” Leene said urgently. “He wants no part of the fighting. He’s seen far too much violence in his life.”

“I think you underestimate his heart,” Cyrus countered.

“Please Cyrus,” she begged, “Leave Glenn out of it.”

Glenn was so innocent – so pure. She’d never forgive Cyrus for asking Glenn to give that up.

And she couldn’t bear to lose them both.

Even if it meant all of Guardia was saved?

Maybe she could live with that.

She hated herself for that thought. She hated Alexander for ever teaching her to think this way – to put the good of the kingdom before all else, even her own family. She had never wanted to be a queen.

.

It had been a mistake. She had lost them both and Guardia had not been saved. A mistake that resulted in her brother’s most likely death, and Glenn’s too.

With absolutely nothing to show for any of it.

She had been so afraid. And needlessly. The Guardian forces had held out against the Mystics for almost a decade now. They always managed to scrape by even without her brother’s brilliance on the battlefield… until now.

How much better would things now be if she had just had believed in him – and not sent him away on a fool’s quest?

Would her husband ever forgive her?

The boy… he had the Hero’s Medal.

She forced herself to take in a deep breath even as her mind churned with a thousand intangible feelings and turned back to the messenger. He stood fidgeting nervously trying to pretend he hadn’t just seen the queen fall to pieces.

“Where is he?” she managed to ask calmly.

“In the small audience chamber, your majesty.”

“Tell the boy I will be with him momentarily.”

…

The young servant girl furiously scrubbed an unidentified cloth back and forth on the washboard, trying not to think about what the harsh lye was doing to her hands. She hated laundry day. Her palms would remain cracked and leathery for days after completing the chore.

She glanced upward toward the conspicuously empty doorway, anxiously biting her lip.

“Sadie dear,” a motherly voice interrupted. “I don’t know what that shirt has done to you, but you’re about to wear a hole through it in your anxiety.”

The girl felt the heat rise into her cheeks at the correction.

“I’m sorry Madam,” the girl mumbled. “I will pay more attention to my work.”

“Are you alright dear?” her supervisor asked kindly. “Are you settling in alright?”

Sadie was continually shocked at the older woman’s compassion and patience. Her own mother would never have been as understanding.

“Yes of course Madam,” Sadie insisted. “The other girls have made me feel very welcome.” She glanced up toward the empty doorway again. And her manager laughed at her transparent behavior.

“Don’t let Clara get you into too much mischief,” the older woman said knowingly before proceeding down the line.

Sadie watched as the older woman moved down the line, grateful for her presence at the palace. Sadie had arrived at the palace for work three fortnights past and had already discovered that some noblewomen could make you feel like an object or worse, that you were invisible. But the headwoman respected and appreciated every single one of them, always willing to join in the manual labor when a girl needed some support or send a girl away for a needed respite.

When the headwoman reached to the farthest end of the line, Clara slipped silently into her usual place at the station next to Sadie’s as if she had been there the entire time.

“You’re late!” Sadie hissed, as Clara took up the long pole and began stirring the large vat of almost boiling water to prevent the clothes and linens from scorching.

“Were you worried about me?” the dark-haired girl asked with amusement. “I keep telling you that you need to relax!”

“How can I when you seem determined to…?”

“Did you see him?” Clara interrupted urgently, ignoring the reprimand.

“See who?” Sadie asked, bewildered as to what all the commotion was about, but eager to be included in current events.

“The Hero!” Clara exclaimed obviously shocked that even the new girl hadn’t already heard.

“Sir Cyrus has returned?”

“No, but there’s a boy. He had the Hero’s Medal!”

“The boy? The child that arrived this morning?” Sadie remembered the dark haired lad because he had been wearing rusty armor that had clearly been slightly too big for him. “There’s no way! He couldn’t be more than ten or twelve years old!”

“There’s only one way to get the Hero’s Medal.”

Sadie knew the tradition of passing on the Hero’s Medal as well as anyone, but she didn’t see how the tradition could be maintained if the previous holder of the Medal had perished.

“You know what this means?” Clara exclaimed excitedly, interrupting her thoughts. “Sir Cyrus is alive!”

Sadie wanted to hope, she really did, but…

“How much of a difference can one man make?” she asked.

“You never saw the man in action,” Clara argued back absently.

“And you did?”

“Yes!” Clara insisted. “And they don’t call him the greatest hero that ever lived for nothing!” she exclaimed licking her lips as her eyes lost focus, but none of their gleam.

“Clara!” Sadie scolded, scandalized by the girl’s lustful tone. The girl beside her would have only been seven or eight years old when last Cyrus graced these halls with his presence.

“No,” Clara said, waving away the implication. “I just meant… Cyrus finished his training away from court. He only came back once every quarter for assessment. I saw one of his sparring sessions.”

Sadie gestured for her friend to go on.

“He wasn’t knighted yet Sadie. But he took on full seasoned knights.”

“But that makes sense,” Sadie insisted. “The veteran knights do all the quarterly assessments.”

Clara shook her head rapidly. “You don’t understand Sadie! He took on full seasoned knights halfway through his training and won.”

“Ladies! Stop spreading nonsensical rumors and get back to work!”

Sadie felt herself blushing once again, but she also saw the sparkle of amusement in the headwoman’s eyes.

…

The knight captain sat in the dining halls amongst his men as was his custom. But tonight he barely noticed the platter placed before him. Instead he relived his last encounter. He had lost half a squad and the king was as good as dead.

“Did you see the boy? Is it true that he has the Hero’s Medal?”

“If Sir Cyrus sent him, then we are saved!”

“But why wouldn’t he come back himself?”

“Enough!” the captain snapped. “You’re trained soldiers – not gossiping fishwives!”

His men froze in surprise and Einar found himself regretting the angry words. He should have let them hope for a change.

But he didn’t know how take them back either. Motion slowly returned to the table when he didn’t continue his reprimand, but the atmosphere felt far more subdued. The knight captain sighed. Leave it to him to destroy the first slight positive morale boost the men had had in a fortnight.

Even it was based on delusional fantasy.

“Would you like to join me in the back?” a low voice behind him asked.

“No,” the knight captain growled, glaring at his older brother.

“It wasn’t really a question Einar,” the chef whispered into his ear.

“Do not presume to give me orders Charlie!” the knight captain snarled.

“Be sensible for once, and I won’t have to!” his brother whispered hotly.

Einar clamped down on what he wanted to say and nodded carefully. He couldn’t afford to lose control – not here, not in front of his men. Well, not more than he already had anyway.

He followed his brother into the kitchens.

The broad-shouldered man poured him a drink and indicated that he should sit.

Einar slumped down onto the stool in defeat.

“So how screwed are we?”

The knight captain downed the drink and pushed the empty glass towards his brother who cooperatively filled it again.

“You have no faith in our forces,” Einar snapped back sarcastically.

“Is that what those idiot bureaucrats said to you?”

“They’re not bureaucrats,” Einar objected automatically, but there was no feeling behind the words. “They are seasoned knights.”

“They might have been once, but you know as well as I that they haven’t seen any action in over thirty years,” Charles countered.

“It’s worse than that,” Einar admitted.

His brother raised a bushy brown eyebrow at the sudden change in tune. The knight captain sighed.

“They fought against Choras. They have no sense of what magic is capable of,” Einar explained raking his hand through his hair. “They ignored the most important elements of my report. They criticized tactics that specifically countered magic assualts as useless and inefficient!”

“The king understood that the old way of thinking wasn’t working anymore. That’s why he was out there! To learn specifically what the mystics were capable of. But now…”

“Now you’ve lost your open minded advocate and champion and are surrounded by old men stuck in their ways looking for a scapegoat.”

“I hate politics! I’m a battlefield commander! It’s so much simpler on the front…”

“What happened out there?”

“We were flanked,” Einar said simply.

Charles just stared at him, obviously unsatisfied with the explanation. Einar sighed.

“Magic,” Einar growled. “Magic happened. The mystics were somehow cloaked – we didn’t know they were there until it was too late.”

“Didn’t you have the valley guarded?”

“By scouts only. We didn’t have the numbers to support a column – not on the front itself.”

“How long does the king have?”

The captain winced. “I amazed he still draws breadth now.”

Einar stared into his once again empty glass slowly turning the cup watching as the last drop spiraled the inside crevasse.

The king’s death would be the last straw in the morale battle as well. His men had been through the harshest season so far this war. They suffered losses and defeats – one after another, always falling back again and again. There seemed to be no point in resisting any longer.

What would it be like to live under Mystic rule, he wondered. Assuming of course, the Mystics would be satisfied to leave any humans alive.

Who was he kidding? The troops had low morale? He had completely given in. Cyrus would never forgive him.

.

Bridane stumbled to the ground, the wound in his thigh had reopened and he could not continue through the lancing pain.

“On your feet soldier!” a familiar voice barked.

Einar didn’t even twitch. He couldn’t have risen back to his feet if he had wanted to, which he didn’t. It would be easier to just lie here and let it all end.

He jumped in surprise as an armored hand pulled him up from under his arms.

“Sir… don’t waste your time,” Einar said through gritted teeth. “There’s no point… and you… can still get out of here.”

“Don’t give up on me lieutenant! That kind of thinking is contagious.”

“Sorry sir,” the man managed even as he attempted to hold the gushing wound closed. “I can’t help it… it hurts.”

“I know it does. But if it’s going to lower the morale of my knights, keep it to yourself!”

Einar was taken aback by the cold shoulder he was receiving. Then saw the worried gleam in his commander’s eyes.

“Yes sir!”

“Morale is important Bridane. More important than numbers or strategy. If your soldiers have given up they have lost the battle. And if you, their commander lose faith, how can you expect any of those underneath you to maintain it?”

“Their commander? You’re the commander!”

“Not forever Bridane. Someday these men will be yours.”

Einar did not agree. Sir Cyrus had proven to be a tactical genius, fantastic with the blade, and charismatic to boot. Einar could never fill those shoes.

“What’s going to happen to all these men when you’re the one leading them?” Cyrus asked with a rogish smile.

“I pray we never have to find out,” Einar whispered.

.

And here he was – true to Sir Cyrus’ words, filling his predecessor’s position. Even after a decade, Einar still sometimes felt like an imposter. Especially on days like today.

“Thank you for the drink Charlie and the ear,” Einar said in genuine gratitude.

“Always down to put you in your place captain,” the chef agreed with a smirk.

The knight stood up, pushing his stool back hastily. He moved out of the dining hall and across the battlements toward his quarters on automatic. He couldn’t help but note that the lavish corridors were far too empty of human activity. So many nobles and commoners alike had been recruited or outright conscripted. The deserted halls revealed that the troops lay in the south trying to defend this continent against the invading Mystics.

He stopped on the battlements and turned his attention in the direction of the front, not that he would be able to see the bridge from this distance. His eyes glazed over the lush evergreen forests below to the plains just beyond. He had to move out again within two days. He wanted to remain at the queen’s side until the king drew his last breath, knowing she didn’t have a lot of confidants. But he had other, unfortunately more urgent, responsibilities. The queen was a strong woman. She would survive and so would her child ensuring the Guardian line would continue.

“The king owes us a favor,” the uniquely accented irritated voice caught his attention and he turned his attention toward an altercation on the level below.

The guard laughed mockingly. “That’s a new one! Many come up with excuses, but the sheer arrogance. The king owes you a favor…and you’re here to cash in now?”

The knight captain found himself actually smiling at the familiar trio below. The swordsman with his typically disheveled red hair trailed by the two girls, one of whom could be mistaken for her majesty and the other who covered her feminine traits with baggy clothes and a thick brown helmet. And in their wake, they seem to have gathered a new companion – a stocky broad shouldered man in gold armor.

“Is it just me, or do you think that Guardia needs some new protocol for their dragon guards?” the lad complained to his companions.

Einar smiled again as he began his descent of the spiral stairs to the ground level.

“See her?” the swordsman demanded. “How much she looks like the queen?”

The guard remained silent.

“I don’t suppose you remember that whole fiasco of mistaken identity that took place a few weeks ago?”

The comment brought Bridane up short. A few weeks? Try a year! The captain remembered the events clearly, but the guards wouldn’t. The event had been kept mostly secret – mistaking another for her majesty was an embarrassing mistake even if the likeness had been enough to fool even his majesty.

“You expect me to believe that you are all personal acquaintances of their majesties…” the guard said eying their unconventional attire. Einar stepped silently into the guard’s shadow.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Lucca demanded furiously.

“I think it’s the hair,” the captain commented dryly.

The soldier whirled at his superior’s unexpected presence at his shoulder.

“Sir!”

“Don’t you agree?” he asked the guard. “I mean, if Master Crono here ever bothered to slip a comb through those fiery locks he might maintain a more credible appearance don’t you think?”

“Master… C… Crono?”

“Oh! You don’t remember? He and the frog knight with Madam Lucca here rescued her majesty from the direct clutches of the Yakra beast.”

“I… I… I’m sorry sir, I should have recognized you,” the guard said contritely.

“That’s actually not the lesson I want you to take away from this. There are hundreds of arrivals and most of them will have proper documentation, but there’s always a few that will arrive without such evidence. Some are legitimate and others will tell you quite the tall tails – you will never have enough information to distinguish between the two and we certainly don’t want you to admit just anyone that sounds impressive to the palace. So how can you approach this situation in the future?”

“Attempt to… verify the story with someone who would know?”

“That sounds like a great place to start.”

The captain gestured for the strange fellowship to follow him.

“So you can infiltrate a secret Mystic base, and can’t get past a simple sentry?” he teased.

“Oh we could’ve gotten past him,” Lucca said, cracking her knuckles. “You just wouldn’t have appreciated the results.”

The knight captain chuckled.

“I see your fellowship has grown,” the captain said, gesturing to the man in armor that brought up the rear. “Sir knight, might I know your name?”

“Captain Bridane,” Marle said with a flourish. “May I present to you Ro… Sir Robo.”

“Would you prefer to remove your armor within the palace Sir Robo? I can have some lockers made available to you. I imagine you would be far more comfortable.”

“I see you have yet to remove your own armor,” the strange voice countered.

Bridane chuckled. “Suit yourself!”

“So! Master Crono! Madam Lucca!” the knight greeted enthusiastically. “What brings you back to our humble corner of the kingdom?”

“Humble?” Lucca echoed the inappropriate choice of words as they made their way across the rich scarlet carpets.

“Captain Bridane!” Crono returned the greeting. “We are actually hoping that we might aid in the war efforts.”

The captain’s smile widened. “The fates know I can use all the aid I can get. Follow me,” he led the band back to his office near the barracks.

He began with an interview of their experience and physical training. He quickly discovered that Lucca and Marle have not really received any formal training but were proficient in the use of ranged weapons, which was not really surprising considering their build and dispositions. Crono obviously knew how to use the blade he wore on his hip. But it was man in the golden armor that brought him up short. Lucca insisted that he served as a specialized scout and sentry.

“You don’t really have the build for a scout,” the captain commented. “And that armor wouldn’t allow for much mobility.”

“Yeah,” Lucca interrupted enthusiastically. “I don’t know how he does it.”

He eyed her suspiciously, knowing that there was more here than the obvious. But it was also apparent that the fellowship did not want to reveal what was actually going on.

The knight captain shrugged. He was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Usually, we would begin with assessment and training, but that can wait until next season,” the captain began without preamble. “Right now we’re a little more desperate than that. We need reinforcements at the Zenan Bridge, but even more importantly the forces there, need to be resupplied. The caravan keeps getting raided by bandits and a third of our supply trains don’t typically make it. So it needs to be guarded, but if I limit the reinforcement columns to the caravan’s pace they won’t get there in time. I don’t have enough men to split the force without weakening it.”

“I was wondering if you might be willing to serve as the caravan’s guard with another squad of four. Your ability and mobility, I think, would make you suited for the task. And honestly, I doubt you will face any trouble – when there’s an obvious guard, the bandits tend to stay away for easier pickings. If you could maintain this rotation for the next four fortnights, we should last through the worst of the season and actually get you back up here for further training and assessment.”

“Actually… we had something a little more specific in mind,” Marle interrupted.

“What would that be?” the captain watched as the three shared uncertain glances with one another.

“We want to take out Magus directly,” Lucca stated plainly.

The knight captain did not react for a moment. The statement was too unbelievable – his brain refused to process it immediately. Then he burst into laughter.

The strange quartet did not join him or react. They remained sober causing him to follow suit quickly.

“You’re actually serious,” he realized aloud.

Three nods of confirmation. Einar leaned back into his wooden chair, wondering idly what concoction Charlie must have put in his drink.

“The idea is not without some advantages,” the gold man explained. “Historically, if you are able to remove a leader from power, the momentum behind the movement will often dissipate.”

“You’re out of your minds!” the knight captain declared. “Only one man has ever faced the fiendlord and lived to walk away. And Sir Cyrus held his own, he landed blows. But none of them scratched the warlord.”

“You’re talking about stories turned to legend,” Lucca countered hotly. “The Mystic King is as mortal as you or I!”

Einar laughed bitterly. “I wish I could agree with you Lady Lucca. Normally I might even, except I was there. I witnessed the exchange and watched on in horror when I realized how unfair the confrontation truly was. And I have faced countless Mystics in the last fourteen years – I know the impossible things they are capable of.”

“So if you really want to help, we need a guard on our supply caravan!” He shouted, suddenly angry. “Either that, or find a way to heal the king…”

“We’ll guard the caravan for the one trip,” Crono agreed, “But after that, we have our own mission to attend to.”

The knight nodded acknowledgement – still irritated, but not so much so that he would turn around skilled fighters and guards even only for one rotation.

“What did you say about the king?” Marle asked worriedly.

…

Leene sat at her husband’s side. He was actually awake and lucid. And while she wanted nothing more than to sit and share fond memories or her desperate panic of losing him, he wanted a report.

She shouldn’t be surprised. He had been raised to be king. He had always known the responsibility would come before everything else – even her.

“He had… the hero’s medal?”

Leene nodded confirmation. “Cyrus must have sent the boy to us,” she insisted.

“After… so much time? Do… Do you think… he still lives?”

She watched as he licked his lips searching for the air needed to speak. Breathing was so hard for him. She wondered which breath would be his last.

“Leene?”

She forced herself to ponder the question. Even though she had received no evidence of her brother’s continued existence, she still could not imagine the world without him in it.

.

”But Cyrus is allowed to…” she objected hotly. She had just been caught in the weapon’s hall – attempting to decapitate a dummy with a short sword. Quite unsuccessfully to her own frustration.

Her father cut her off.

“Cyrus is heir to the name and domain. He is training to be a knight! You are lady of this house and will learn duties as befitting your name and responsibilities.”

“It’s not fair!” she screamed.

“Life isn’t!” her father bellowed with impatience.

“Leene,” he brother said soothingly, bringing her hand to his lips as he entered. She scowled at the rare sign chivalry as it was obviously designed to placate her. “You’ll see. Training to manage all of the manor and the household staff isn’t so bad. You wouldn’t want to get on horseback. It’d ruin that gorgeous gown.”

She turned shocked eyes to him, hurt by his sudden betrayal.

But when their eyes met, he winked. He was up to something.

Their father sighed. “It is a relief to finally hear at least one of you talking sense,” he grumbled. He had dismissed them immediately, insisting that he had business to take care of.

“What are you…?” she immediately demanded, but he shook his head violently and gestured for her to be silent, pointing behind them to their father’s open study.

“Have faith in me sister dear,” he reassured her softly. “I would never dream of excluding you from all the fun!”

“You had better not,” she responded, feeling much better.

That night Cyrus has woken her and he had taught her how to hold and load a crossbow. It had been the first of many such lessons.

.

“What other explanation is there?” she said.

“Leene,” he said gently raising a hand to her cheek. “I know you’ve never given up hope, but… it’s been over ten years. If Cyrus… or Glenn were alive… they would have found… a way to… to come back to you… long before now.”

She tore away from his gentle hand angrily. Then immediately she came back toward her husband in tears, completely contrite.

“I’m sorry Alexander. Here you are dying and you’re still trying to comfort me. I didn’t mean to be so selfish.”

He smiled weakly. “You are many things… my love… Selfish… is not… one of them.”

She nodded stoically against his hand on her cheek and watched as his eyes fell closed. Leene held her breadth forcing herself to stay completely still as she watched for the rise and fall of his chest.

She broke into tears, praying he would wake. He fell asleep quickly and often. And each time he drifted from consciousness she feared it would be for the last time. The doctors and apothecaries had come and gone. She had sent for more and they all said the same thing – there was nothing to be done. It was just a matter of time before…

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

“What is it?” Leene demanded harshly.

“I’m sorry to disturb you your majesties, but the Lady Marle has requested an audience. She says that she believes she can help you.”

Leene took a deep breath and composed herself.

“I’m sorry Paige. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Would you please inform the Lady Marle I will take her audience just after the noon meal?”

“Actually your majesty, she is right outside. She says that she can help you heal the king. I thought you would want to see her right away!”

Leene nodded and gestured for her maid to proceed, no longer trusting her voice to form words. Her heart had dropped into her stomach.

Leene looked up to face the younger version of herself as the girl entered, not daring to hope. Marle curtsied with the grace of a trained lady of the court. Leene wondered, not for the first time, who the girl really was.

“Your majesty, I apologize for barging into your private space. I believe that I can help and did not want to delay.”

Leene studied the girl in silence for several seconds still unsure of what to make of her.

“Please do not give me false hope,” Leene finally said softly. “My heart cannot take it.”

“While I cannot be completely certain, your majesty, I would never offer my services if I did not believe I could be of aid.”

“What do you need?”

“Umm… Hot water, rosemary ointment, anything you have to counter inflammation and fever, sutures, and bandages.”

The queen nodded.

“Oh! And if you could let in my companion. I could use his help. And then we could use some privacy. I don’t want you to have to fret your majesty as I tend to this work. It may take a fair bit of time.”

“I’ll be fretting anyway,” she said sadly. “But I can stay out of your way.”

…

Marle approached her newest patient with Robo at her side, taking stock of his injuries. He had been struck in the chest – and the blade had managed to slip through two ribs, puncturing one of his lungs. If the soaked bandages and his pale visage were anything to go by he had lost a lot of blood. She touched a hand to his forehead that burned with fever.

“What do you think Robo?” she asked the android. Lucca said he had the ability to scan really small things as well as distance objects.

He picked up one of the king’s hands and ran a green laser pulse over his hand and then again over the wound at their patient’s chest.

“Blood pressure is extremely low, he needs a blood transfusion if we can find a compatible donor. That is not the only problem as at 84%, the oxygenation of his blood stream is too low to maintain continued cellular respiration. He is in the mid stages of hypoxemia. I’m afraid his heart and kidneys are in the worst condition.”

“You can tell all of that from a green light?” the princess asked in surprise.

“Blood oxygenation can be measured by the amount of light that is absorbed by the hemoglobin in the red blood cells…”

She waved her hands to forestall the explanation. “You can explain it to me later. Let’s attend to him first. I want you to monitor his progress as we go,” just as the words left her mouth, her patient stirred.

“Leene?” he asked weakly.

“You’ve really got to stop making that mistake your majesty,” Marle chided wiping his sweating forehead with a damp cloth. “It will get you into trouble with your wife.”

“Leene… tell Cyrus to ready… his special unit…. They need to… take out the bridge…”

“He’s delirious,” Robo noted. “How will you proceed?”

“No idea!” the princess declared.

“He must be on guard… the Mystics… have dev…eloped a way to cloak… themselves.”

“How can you be certain that you will be able to accomplish what you have set out to do without any harm coming to yourself?”

“Not you too,” Marle groaned. “Did Crono put you up to this?”

“Only… Cyrus’ unit… has the pre… precision to… accomplish this… without being… detected.”

“Hush,” Marle soothed in her forefathers’ dialect. “I will be sure to inform Sir Cyrus of your orders.”

“I never… doubted it, Leene,” he whispered and his eyes fell closed again.

“Crono expressed concern that you were attempting to use a technique that you have not yet mastered. He did mention that there was some risk to your own well-being,” the android admitted.

“Robo, I’ll admit that I don’t know exactly what I’m doing. That’s part of why I wanted you to accompany me. Lucca said you would be able to monitor both of us. I don’t want to take senseless risks. But I’m also not going to sit here and do nothing when I can help.”

“I understand that you must have some emotional attachment to his majesty,” Robo conceded.

Marle choked back a snappish response. She liked to think she would have done this to help anyone, but she couldn’t really know that. The reality was she was facing an ancestor. But everytime she thought of playing it safe she could only think of one thing: ‘Geoffrey was supposed to have a father.’

“If I understand what you attempt,” Robo interrupted her thoughts, “Then success should result in the wounds being completely healed. What do you need the bandages for?”

“I like that you’re assuming we will be successful!” the princess countered happily. “The bandages are more to hide the fact that we used magic.”

“Why do you need to hide that?”

“Well, the only creatures capable of magic in this time period are Mystics… And well, I look a lot like the queen. They already feel uncomfortable with me.”

“I some how doubt that the people of this time would be upset with you for use of magic if it resulted in the healing of their king.”

Marle shrugged. The android knew so much and yet sometimes he still seemed incredibly naïve. “Better to be careful,” she told him. “I’m ready to begin.”

Marle sent a few ice crystals spiraling into the air around her, concentrating on how it felt to pull the energy from the ground and air around her. When she channeled her aura she pulled the energy from her core, but the source from within her was already warm, perfect for healing. The energy from the earth and floor beneath her seemed to be naturally cold – perfect for ice. But she didn’t want to ice the king – that wouldn’t help him.

What caused the difference? Spekkio had said she was using her own life force to heal others. It was warm because she was alive. The energy she pulled from the ground was so far removed from anything living it would not have any properties of the living. Maybe she could give it those properties.

So she pulled the energy from the ground, brought it up to her core, and immediately felt like she had been tossed into an icy river. The aspiring healer gasped and lost her hold on the magic.

“Are you alright?” Robo asked.

“You tell me,” she managed between gasping in lungfuls of air.

“Your heart rate has slightly increased and your internal body temperature has dropped. Both changes are not at all significant or concerning, however, your sharp intake of breath would suggest that you experienced something either painful or unexpected. And I cannot presume that I would be able to detect everything as I am uncertain exactly what you are attempting to do.”

She smiled. “Thank you for your concern Robo. I’m fine. I think I’m onto something. I just wasn’t ready. I’m going to try again.”

She pulled the energy to her core again, this time prepared for the icy shock, and held it there allowing it to mingle and swirl with her life energy. After it had sufficient time to warm, she held her hands out and pushed out the excess energy. It felt right – like her own lifeblood.

“You appear to be having an effect,” the android reported. Marle would have laughed at the understatement if the process had not been stealing all of her attention.

Marle watched as the golden pulses left her hands and were absorbed by the king’s battered body. She watched in fascination as the raw lung tissue and then layers of muscles began to knit themselves back together much faster than it normally did when she used her aura. Normally, what she could do was incredibly restricted because she had a limited energy supply.

The princess took stock of her internal self. She did not feel exhausted as she usually did, though maybe a tad bit cold. Spekkio had been right. This was far better.

“And how are each of us now fairing?” the princess asked with a smile.

“The king’s injury is all but gone. His blood oxygenation levels have already increased 2% and current readings indicate that will continue to improve. His blood pressure is still extremely low and he still could use that transfusion. His vitals are weak, but stable.”

“You seem to be perfectly healthy. Your temperature is reading half a degree below normal. I recommend that you consume some hot liquid.”

“That’s all I need? Some tea?” she echoed in surprise. In the past, she had been known to need an extra two hours of sleep after healing a minor cut. This new technique took all of her concentration, but it was certainly more effective and obviously better for her.

“There does not appear to be any other adverse effects to your healing, though I am uncertain how to you all replenish your magical energy sources.”

She laughed.

“So how do we go about this blood transfusion of yours? In my experience, they are risky and only to be attempted in truly desperate situations.”

“Assuming you find two people with compatible blood types and the needles and tubes are sterilized, there is nothing overtly dangerous about a blood transfusion.”

“What’s a blood type?” the princess asked.

“Aw, I can see how you would consider blood transfers to be dangerous if you were unaware of blood types.”

“It is possible for me to donate?” Marle asked. “I would prefer to keep others out of our futuristic techniques.”

“Biologically, it would be prudent to use someone from this time – four hundred years of time means that you may be a carrier of bacteria or viruses that you are immune to, but that don’t even exist in this time.”

“So we need a donor who is compatible with him that’s not myself, Crono, or Lucca.”

“How is this possible?” the king asked, his hands moving over his chest.

“You’re awake!” Marle greeted enthusiastically. “How are you feeling?”

He squinted at her face. “Marle?”

“Yes, your majesty,” she responded in the old dialect, pushing him down reassuringly as she bowed her head respectfully.

“You healed me?”

“I… yes, your majesty.”

“I could feel it. You have extraordinary abilities milady! You have my gratitude!”

Marle smiled. “Glad to be of service!”

He tried to get up, but Marle pushed him back down. “Easy! You are restricted to bed rest for the next two days!”

“But I feel fine!” he objected.

“And I want it to stay that way!” she insisted. “Robo, would you go tell Paige to fetch her majesty and a few possible donors for us while I change his bandage?”

The android nodded briefly before moving out.

Within a few minutes, Leene ran into the room.

“Is he…?” the queen asked.

“He is going to be absolutely fine, but he needs a… blood transfusion,” Marle reported reluctantly. “Sir Robo has abilities to make sure the donor is a match, but I want you to understand your majesty that this technique is not normally safe and should not be used needlessly.”

Marle almost fell over as the queen suddenly threw her arms around her.

“I understand! Thank you,” the other woman whispered. Before Marle could respond, she had moved to her husband’s side.

“Alexander,” she whispered with threatened tears. “I had been terrified that you were going to leave me. First Cyrus and Glenn. I don’t know if I would have survived it.”

“Leene, I’m right here,” he reassured.

She threw herself into her husband’s arms. Both sets of eyes gleamed with love and devotion.

Marle watched for a moment with tears in her eyes.

“Marle? Apparently, Paige is assembling some potential donors. While you wait, you really should be thinking about getting some of that tea sooner than later,” Robo encouraged softly.

Marle tore her view away from her ancestors and nodded before making a silent exit.

…

Crono stirred the food around his plate, watching as Lucca bit her lip lost in her own thoughts with her distinctive purple hair framing her face. She wasn’t touching her food either. At least he had gotten her to take off her ridiculous helmet.

“What is it?” he asked.

“What’s what?”

“What are you obsessing over in circles in your head for no good reason?” he said with a playful grin.

She threw a carrot at him.

“Hey!” he said with mock severity after catching the unlikely projectile and tossing it into his own mouth. “Food is scarce around her Lucca. You shouldn’t waste it.”

She sighed. “I’m just worried.”

“About?”

“About… about everything! I think we’ve bitten off more than we can chew…”

“As always…” he interjected and was rewarded with her annoyed scowl.

“And… I was wondering what’s going on in Truce – with our parents. It’s impossible not to think something horrible has happened to all of them.”

“We’ll fix it,” he insisted.

“How?” she demanded harshly.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we will.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what are you worried about? You haven’t touched your food either.”

“I… I was worried about Marle. She was so insistent on healing the king, but she has no idea what she’s doing. Spekkio said she was using her own life force to heal people. That it was dangerous and that she needed to learn to do it properly. I’m afraid that if she can’t figure it out – she’ll fall back on what she already knows and put herself at risk.”

“Crono, she’s fine,” Lucca reassured.

“How do you know?”

Lucca pointed behind him over his shoulder and he turned to see the princess of his time hoisted up into the air by boisterous soldiers.

She screamed delightedly, her giggling filling the chamber.

Crono sighed in relief.

“Please get the Lady Marle a drink!” someone bellowed. “She has just returned from successfully healing the king!”

A pleased cheer ran through the chamber and she was suddenly surrounded by soldiers, servants, and maids giving her congratulations and thanks.

She seemed to take the attention in stride. Crono supposed she was accustomed to it. He thought about coming to her aid anyway, but someone beat him to the punch.

“Give the girl some space! If she’s here she needs sustenance, not smothering!” the chef bellowed. The crowds immediately dispersed, but the volume and energy remained high and Marle did not go without admirers.

“Tell us how to make it up to you!” one soldier crooned.

“Tell me a story,” she said simply.

“What kind of a story?”

“Something true.”

“Have you heard the one where Sir Cyrus earned himself the Hero’s Medal?” another asked.

“Of course she has!” a third man objected. “Who hasn’t?”

“No please,” Marle insisted. “I’m sure you have your own version. Please relate the tale.”

“This was about twelve years back when the war during the second or third year of the war. The fighting had continued into autumn so it was wet and miserable.

“And the Mystics, they were ferocious, they never seemed to run out of supplies or men. No matter how many you managed to fell, more just kept coming.

“It finally seemed as if we were gaining ground, when the Demon King himself showed his fangs on the frontlines. His presence was devastating. Our force was immediately pushed back and cut in two.

“Sir Cyrus led the smaller force on horseback. He rallied his men and used them to cut through the invading wedge to rescue the contigent that had been cut off. Then he used his newfound numbers to drive the Mystics back into the Sea.”

“We thought we had won then,” the first soldier cut in. “But that was when the fiendlord appeared right before the knight leading the charge. Sir Cyrus immediately lost his horse and had to face the monster on foot.

“The warlord blasted with fire, ice, and a black mist that seared the skin. Sir Cyrus faced it all – managing to avoice the worst of the blasts with impossible cunning and speed. He managed to wave through the haze of magic and he pierced the fiend’s abdomen.”

“The evil king only laughed. ‘You think you can harm me with the bronze and iron weapons of man?’ he boomed in a horrible deep and cutting voice.”

“But Sir Cyrus did not give up. He pushed and fought until the Demon would fight no more. He led his troops in retreat across the Sea and bought us an early end to the season.”

“Sir Cyrus was awarded the Hero’s Medal immediately upon his return to the palace for serving the kingdom so completely and faithfully.”

Marle clapped delightedly as the retelling came to a close.

Lucca rolled her eyes.

“Let them have their legends Lucca,” Crono admonished. “No need to disillusion anyone.”

“What about Marle?”

“What about her?”

Crono grinned watching the princess further down the table her eyes wide as she eagerly took in the tales.

“She’s going to be a queen someday! Don’t you think it would be better for her to have a solid grip on reality?”

He grimaced. He didn’t like being reminded that Marle was the heir to the throne. So of course, Lucca, as his best friend, never let an opportunity to remind him of that unfortunate fact go by.

“I think she’s already had plenty of experiences to teach her about harsh realities. And I’m sure she’ll face more. The fact that she still dreams and wonders is a good thing,” he insisted. “I hope she never loses that. No matter how many harsh realities she faces.”

Lucca considered him seriously through a bite of potatoes.

“So, have you told her yet?” she asked after she swallowed.

“Told her what?”

“That you love her, you idiot.”

“Love?” Crono spluttered.

Lucca rolled her eyes. “Like then!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he managed, though he felt the heat rising to his cheeks regardless.

“Crono, would you please remember who you’re talking to! You’re not fooling anyone! Especially not me! Even Robo said that there 89% chance that you were interested in a romantic relationship with the girl!”

“Robo said what?” Crono objected in disbelief.

“And you’ve practically admitted it to me before!” she continued to rant, ignoring his interruption. “Why’re you being all embarrassed about it now?”

Crono rubbed the back of his neck distractedly.

“I don’t know Lucca. She’s a princess! She could be with anyone she wanted. Do you really think that I have a chance?” he asked looking at his best and oldest friend beseechingly.

Her face rippled comically as she attempted to control herself. He waved her restraint away with a scowl and she exploded in laughter.

He waited somewhat impatiently for her to regain control of herself, somewhat irritated at her laughter completely at his expense. But she would calm down and talk sensibly to him eventually. She always did.

“Whew!” she breathed as she turned to him again, her cheeks only twitching slightly. “I must say, it is nice to know you doubt yourself once in awhile. With all this impulsive charging in, sometimes I wonder…”

“Glad I can still surprise you,” he grumbled. “Can we get back to the topic at hand?”

“Which is?”

“Do you think I have a chance?” he asked insistently. The question had been reluctantly disclosed before, but since the query had already been freed, he felt compelled to know what she thought.

She stared at him seriously for a long moment.

“I think that… you should tell her how you feel about her and see what happens.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts’! You go charging in all the rest of the time. What’s different about this?”

Somehow, this was far more terrifying than a Mystic Lair or Dragon Tank. What if she rejected him outright? How would he face her after that?

…

Einar sat stiffly in his chair very carefully not snapping the quill in his hand in half as his superiors argued pointlessly about whether or not to extend conscription into the rural farming communities.

“Lords of this great kingdom, forgive me! But that is not the urgent issue at hand,” the knight captain interjected, leaping to his feet. “Additional troops are needed, however they cannot be obtained within the next fortnight! As I have reported to you previously, we cannot hold the bridge for longer than that. And if the Mystics make it past the bridge, the number of new raw recruits you have will matter little.”

“We should burn it. That would hold off the Mystics for another two seasons!”

“You would abandon the people of San Dorino?”

“We are in no position to come to their aid right now anyway! The village is behind enemy lines! Completely conquered. The mystics are using the settlement to supply their own armies.”

“We can’t burn the bridge. What of the hero? He would be stranded in enemy territory!”

“Have you lost you senses? You place the fate of this kingdom on the shoulders of a boy!”

“If Sir Cyrus sent him to us…”

“Sir Cyrus would be the first to call you a fool! You have been listening to far too many tales. He was a man. Certinaly a great man. A man of action. But still just a man. He did not depend on others or delegate his own responsibility to small children. I don’t know where this boy comes from or how he got his hands on the Hero’s Medal, but you can be certain that Sir Cyrus did not send him in his stead.”

Bridane allowed his head to fall into his palm in resignation. At least they were arguing about something semi-relevant now.

“We will burn the bridge only as a last resort. It is only a stopgap and limits our mobility and options. If we have to burn the bridge, we’ll probably lose this war.”

“Sir! With all due respect, we can’t hold the bridge. It is only a matter of time before we fall.”

“Bridane! We have discussed this before! You need to have more faith in the competence of the men that report to you.”

“Of course sir,” the captain managed through gritted teeth. “If that will be all?”

“Of course captain, I’m sure you have details to attend to. You will send us daily reports.”

Bridane barely managed a nod before storming out of the council chamber. How was he supposed to defend the kingdom when the men in charge insisted he hand it over to their enemies?

…

The king sat in a padded leather chair in his chambers, breathing easily for the first time in days. He felt he would never take the sensation of his lungs filling with life giving air for granted again. The excruciating pain he had felt, existed only in memory and if he was a bit tired, the Lady Marle told him that was to be expected. He had been feeling much stronger since he had received what the man in armor referred to as a “blood transfusion” with strict directions that the procedure was not to be repeated outside of his supervision.

Despite his improvement, Leene would still not let him leave the rooms. She insisted that his messengers, advisors, and generals could come to him.

Just then the door opened to admit his invited guest. The king only hoped that Master Crono could deliver the seemingly impossible once again.

“Your majesty,” the young man said with a shaky bow. “I am relieved to find you in good health once again.”

“Yes, I hear that I have you and yours to thank for that once again Master Crono!”

The swordsman shook his head rapidly. “I can take no credit for this particular miracle you majesty. It was all Marle’s ingenuity.”

“Master Crono, let me cut to the heart of why I have asked you here. Captain Bridane informs me that you are accompanying the supply caravan south, but that your true goal is to take out the fiendlord.”

“It is on the way,” Crono confirmed.

“I would request an additional favor from you.”

“What can I do for you, your majesty?”

“Complete Cyrus’ quest. I believe it will aid you in your own endeavors.”

“What was Sir Cyrus’s quest?”

“He departed in search of the Masamune, a mystical blade that has the ability to cut through magical enchantments. It is one of the few weapons that may be able to cut through the Mystics’ and specifically the Lord Magus’ unnatural shielding.”

“Sounds useful. Are you certain it is real?”

“The whole legend is a bit of a stretch. In fact, I forbade Cyrus from embarking. The bastard was never very good at following his superiors’ orders. But the way things are going now, we will not last another season against this invasion. The Masamune is one of the few hopes that could potentially end the war in our favor.”

“Why send me on this quest and not one of your knights?”

“Truth be told, I have no one to spare. We are already stretched too thin. And like you say, it’s a legend. A myth.”

“Well, if it is as you say your majesty, we would be foolish to not look into the tale. Thank you for the information.”

“Good luck Master Crono.”

“Thank you, your majesty. I get the feeling, we’re going to need it.”

…

Chapter Text

Herman brought up his lantern trying to penetrate the rising fog, but it was useless. The faint light seemed only to reflect back at him creating a glowing pocket that no doubt, only gave away his own position. He hated foggy nights! The mist seemed to penetrate his clothes and armor making everything feel not quite wet, but damp and musty. And you couldn’t see more than two or three metras in any direction making keeping a watch that much more difficult.

He had two sentry companions less than ten metras away in either direction, not that he could see any evidence of either one through the oppressive low hanging clouds. Unfortunately, these nights were far too common banked out on the river as they were.

At least it was quiet for once. All too often some type of long necked bird would be sitting on a rock halfway across the river careening its heart out, attempting to attract a mate.

The distinctive sound of a lantern clattering to the ground cut through the silent evening.

“Will?” Herman called out, turning toward the sound. “Are you alright?”

“Yes! I just…” a sharp gasp cut off the explanation.

“Will?” he called again, feeling the blood roaring through his ears.

Only silence greeted him.

“What’s going on Herman?” the sentry on the other side called.

“I’m not sure,” Herman called out, relieved to hear the other man’s voice. “Give me a second to check.”

The sentry set out quickly to the fallen lantern. He found it abandoned on the ground, the flame blown out. His colleague was nowhere to be found. He glanced in every direction.

“Will?” he called softly, suddenly nervous about the breach in their line.

Just then the familiar face loomed through the fog coming towards him. Herman jumped backwards startled.

“Curse the fates Will! Don’t do that!” the sentry screeched. “It’s terrifying enough...” he cut off no longer able to speak as his throat gurgled with hot gushing fluid as a blade pierced his throat. He looked at the other sentry in shock, as pain exploded in his throat and spread to his chest.

He wished he could ask why, but merciful blackness enveloped him and he knew no more.

…

Einar Bridane sat atop his mount seemingly at ease watching the column of troops march past efficiently. His leather-armored men matched a brisk pace with enough banter taking place to distract from the journey, but not enough to steal their air away. Many lead horses burdened with the barest of supplies – just enough to get them to their destination plus two days extra rations. He could not afford to exhaust any of them – horse or man – on the trip itself. They needed to arrive ready to fight both the enemy and the low morale of the soldiers stationed at the bridge.

His grip on the corded reins tightened. Despite his constraints, he feared they were too late. They had departed two days later than he really had wanted, though they had managed to make up for half of the delay on the road.

A galloping chestnut mount came to a skidding halt beside him. The gleaming silver armor of both rider and steed reflected sunlight into his eyes. The knight saluted quickly. Bridane returned the gesture from atop his own mount.

“Report.”

“We’re making amazingly good time sir. Currently on schedule to arrive at the encampment within four hours.”

Einar nodded stiffly in acknowledgment, his body held in tight and tense control.

His mount sidled unexpectedly, her ears rolled back towards him in irritation.

He leaned forward to sooth the war-trained beast, patting the creature’s neck firmly. She was detecting his own uneasiness, he knew.

“Sorry girl,” he reassured, gently squeezing the horse’s sides urging her forward. He had ‘inspected’ his men long enough. He needed to make it back to his own station within the column.

Her ears turned cooperatively forward and she willingly moved into a trot.

“Are you alright sir?” Cael asked, easily guiding his own horse beside the knight captain’s. “You seem ill at ease.”

“We should have received a messenger from the encampment by now. We haven’t.”

“Meaning?”

“There are a number of possibilities, most of them not in our favor. Speculating at this time will not do any good. I’d prefer to arrive as quickly as possible.”

“I will organize an increase in pace.”

“No, don’t. I can’t have our troops arriving in the middle of a pitched battle with the reinforcements exhausted. If the encampment has fallen – the mystics would still have to get through us before they can make their way through Guardia.”

“Yes sir,” Cael said and then urged his own mount into a gallop and moved ahead.

Bridane maintained his own quick pace, moving rhythmically in tandem with the horse beneath him until he had returned to his place at the head of the reserve column.

The column moved steadily through the countryside between two rolling hills. A gentle breeze caressed the tops of overgrown wild grasses and grains sending ripples over the crest of the hill. The hypnotic calmness of the surrounding fields failed to break through his anxiety and tension.

How could he appreciate this peace, knowing that just over the next hill he might be greeted with an axe?

The smoke was the first sign of something amiss. The dark grey column rose from the horizon like an ominous cloud. The marching troops around him began to move faster with urgent purpose. He did not counter the natural change, as eager as the man beside him to arrive and lend aid.

As they drew closer the acrid caustic particulate wove through his sinuses and into his lungs, sending him into a coughing fit. The camp was alive with activity –shouted orders followed by soldiers and support staff scurrying to comply. There was too much activity for a routine day on guard, but far less than a pitched battle.

His eyes took in the number of wounded, men limping about, or others on a makeshift carrier completely unable to walk. Women ran back and forth with water, bandages, food and drink. Other able bodied men were rebuilding fortifications or shelter.

The captain hissed in a breath of foul tasting air at the evidence that their enemy had penetrated this far into the encampment. But he forced himself to relax immediately. All was not well, but the encampment had not dissolved into panicked chaos – they had not been overrun. Not yet.

“I want you to set up camp immediately and prioritize reinforcing the southern perimeter and aiding with the wounded,” he barked to his own men. Then he dismounted his mare with a gentle pat and took off in search of an officer.

A task, that took far longer than it should have. This did not bode well for the casualty count.

“What happened?” Bridane demanded without preamble of the young officer.

“We were…” the lieutenant began then closed his mouth with a frown searching for words. “We were attacked sir.”

“I can see that,” the knight captain ground out impatiently. “By what type of forces?”

“By… sentries sir.”

“A pack of gargoyles and autorous managed to wreak this much havoc?” the captain asked in alarmed surprise.

“No sir… we were attacked by our own sentries.”

Einar felt the blood drain from his face.

“What?”

“I can’t explain it sir. They seemed possessed. No one could reason with them. It was as if they couldn’t hear us.”

This was something new. Something terrible. If the mystics could use his own men through some kind of mind control...

“Sir, when the sun came up, the sentries fell to the ground where they stood. They were all dead. Every single one of them. We didn’t do anything to them – they uniformly already had gaping wounds and seemed to have been dead hours previously.”

“Inform Captain Cadoc that I would like to meet with him when he is free.”

“He’s dead sir.”

“Liam?”

The boy shook his head.

“And you are?”

“Griffon sir!”

“Sir Griffon. It is good to meet you – you’re now my liaison officer.”

“Sir?”

“You’re in charge now, yes?”

“Not exactly. And I think Sir Edwin was actually hoping you would take over that responsibility sir.”

In spite of everything, Einar grinned, remembering an unexpected battlefield promotion of his own.

“And I will, but I need the expertise of someone who has been here for the last few weeks in understanding your context. Do you think you can fill that role lieutenant?”

“Yes sir!”

“Good man,” the captain said brusquely. “Now, where are you keeping the dead?”

“Sir?” Griffon questioned.

“We need to examine one of the bodies. Where can we do that?”

“The mortuary was constructed at the northwestern corner of camp.”

“Let’s head there now,” he ordered turning west. “Do we still have any squires?”

Before the young lieutenant could respond a dusty boy of no more than eleven years stamped into their presence and gave a stiff salute.

“You have need of a squire sir?” the boy rang formally. Einar could not help but smile at the serious stance and attitude the boy managed to present despite recent events.

“Yes, squire…?”

“Dustin, sir!”

“Squire Dustin, does the encampment shelter a soothsayer?”

Soothsayer was the affectionate nickname for the scholars and historians who had quickly become his experts on mystic psychology and the use of magic. Their knowledge was what made them able to counter much of the magic thrown at them. The ‘soothsayers’ served as the closest thing to mages of their own, but the academics never brought any actual magic to bare – hence the title. His superiors had harshly criticized their presence in the army as unnecessary at best, and foolish at worst. Afterall, who would trust a soothsayer?

“Several sir.”

“Excellent, send one to us in the mortuary.”

“He will be there before you arrive sir!” the boy announced before scampering away.

Einar raised an eyebrow at the audacity of the boy’s claim. If the squire could deliver on that, the knight captain would have to look into recruiting the boy into his own household. Few supervising knights had the same prestige and connection as the Knight Captain. Though it would be dangerous to steal away all the best talent from his subordinates. On the other hand, in conditions such as these – the boy’s sponsor might not even still be alive, he thought with a scowl. He would have to look into it.

The trek to the mortuary was not exactly short – dead corpses brought ill fortune and bad health, so they were kept some distance from the main encampment.

Not to mention the smell, Bridane added mentally as he hardened his facial expression, refusing to show any reaction to the stench of rotting corpses.

“Historian Breccan reporting as ordered sir.”

The knight captain turned to greet the soothsayer, smiling that the squire had indeed delivered on his promise. The other man was younger than expected, with shaggy brown hair fallen around a soft friendly face. Though he did look bookish with baggy clothes and glass spectacles framing hazel eyes. The boy himself was nowhere to be seen.

“Well met Master Breccan,” he took the other man’s arm in greeting. “I need your help to figure out how the Mystics did this.”

“I already have some theories sir, but I was going to wait until the autopsy was complete.”

“The autopsy?” the knight inquired.

“Yes sir,” the soothsayer gestured for them to follow him to the back room.

Einar watched dispassionately as a medic examined the corpse. He lifted eyelids, removed tissue from the fingernails, attempted to bend joints, cut into the tissue – blood did not well or flow.

“He was killed sometime early in the evening sir,” the medic reported. “He could not have been alive all of last night, though others insist that they saw him.”

The soothsayer sighed pushing his spectacles back as he flipped through the old volume in his hands. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

“You said you had a theory Master Breccan?” Einar questioned.

“Only one at this point sir.”

“Which is?”

“Necromancy,” the other man stated confidently placing the open book before him.

“Necromancy,” the captain whispered in horror, his eyes unable to focus on the text before him. The Mystics had rediscovered necromancy.

“We’ll need to burn the bodies,” Breccan continued, failing to notice the captain’s inattention.

“What? Why?” Einar asked belatedly, once the soothsayer’s words had registered. The knight captain did not want to follow that practice – not having bodies to return to their families for proper burial would deal yet another blow to morale.

“I suspect that the corpse can be used again and again if we do not dispose of it properly.”

“You mean the Mystics can reanimate all of these corpses, here in the mortuary?” the captain asked urgently glancing around at the number of dead realizing that the position of the tent was an excellent strategic position for his enemies.

The soothsayer nodded. “From what I’ve read, the age of the body has little bearing on the effectiveness of the technique.

Einar cursed before turning back to the tent.

“Burn the tent and everything in it,” he ordered.

The medic paled.

“Excuse me sir?”

“You heard me,” he barked.

“Yes sir.”

“Squire!” the knight captain bellowed. Dustin darted into the tent immediately. Bridane suspected he had been eavesdropping at the tent flap, not that it mattered. He certainly would not be able to keep an enormous bonfire in the camp a secret.

“I need you to deliver some orders Squire Dustin.”

“Of course milord,” the boy said, bobbing his head.

“Everyone that is not currently on watch duty right now is to be assembled at the yard.”

The boy repeated the message and darted away.

The knight captain made his way directly to the yard himself to eliminate any potential delay in responding to this latest unexpected blow.

Despite the disarray that the unnatural attack had brought, Bridane took pride that his men came together methodically and efficiently and how quickly Dustin must have been able to disseminate the message to the entire camp. He really would have to look into recruiting the lad.

Once the training yard had filled to half-capacity, the knight captain began his speech. They might not have any time to waste. His message and orders would no doubt be repeated to anyone not present.

“I wish I had better news to deliver to you today, but alas that is not the reality of our situation and I will not sugarcoat it for you. I have reason to believe that our encampment will be attacked before the day progresses too much further. The assault will most likely last until sunset.”

He allowed this information to settle in before he continued, though the pause was almost unnecessary. These soldiers had seen too much action – a report that an attack was imminent meant little when they faced such assaults every other day. They were both experienced and well trained. They controlled their emotions well and he took much pride in their discipline. It would be tested before the night was out.

“And I wish at that time you could receive a well-deserved respite, but the Mystics have discovered an old and terrible weapon. They have rediscovered necromancy.”

Now, there was the reaction. Soldiers and support staff alike shifted nervously, threw sideways glances at one another, before stiffening back into place.

“This means that as soon as the sun sets, we will most likely be attacked by a second wave composed of our own and our enemy’s dead.”

He had debated telling them this information, but in the whole ten minutes he had had to decide, he came to the conclusion that he would rather they face and react to this reality before it was shoved in their face. Because it could not be kept secret – too many had witnessed the events of the previous evening and they would see it again. He needed them to process their fear now. They’d be less likely to desert in the middle of a battle.

“I understand your fear of such a crime against your corpse, which may go beyond your fear of death. Supplies and reinforcements are scheduled to arrive within the next three days. But for today, today you are all that stands between this horror and our kingdom. I need every single one of you to stay and defend this realm, here at this bridge – so that this unnatural travesty does not make it back to our homes and to our loved ones.”

“And lastly, this may be the most important order I will ever give you: stay alive.”

“Field lieutenants of each unit, please report for assignments.”

“The rest of you know your duties. Please attend to them, but you must also conserve your energy. We have a long battle ahead of us.”

Far fewer lieutenants than he had expected reported to his command tent, which meant he had far fewer units than he would have liked. His reinforcements currently made up about seventy percent of the force. The force that now held the bridge had been cut down to a third of what it had once been.

“We will be setting up two rotations,” he announced without preamble.

“Sir, I don’t know that we have enough men for rotations,” was the immediate objection. Bridane had expected it, but they didn’t have a choice. They would be facing round the clock assaults with Mystics during the day and the undead at night. “Not if you expect the line to be able to withstand a sustained attack.”

“Well, actually if we advance our position to take further advantage of the bottleneck provided by the bridge itself, we might be able to pull off three rotations,” Griffon chimed in.

The knight captain shook his head. “I don’t want our men to be that thinly spread. Advancing the position makes sense, but I want a row of archers and a second contingent behind them at the current barrier at all times.”

“Yes sir,” they all nodded.

“All injured men must receive priority removal from the field. We cannot risk our men succumbing to injuries in the middle of our teams.”

This news was meant with more nods. Then the captain gathered in a deep breath expecting the most objections from his last order.

“Every unit needs to be equipped with fire. At the end of pitched combat, all bodies on both sides must be burned.”

“But sir!”

Bridane cut off the objection with a sharp gesture.

“You will carry out your orders,” he barked firmly. He didn’t like it any more than they did. Burning the body was a Mystic tradition – not a human one. But he would not sacrifice all their lives and that of Guardia’s for sentimentality and tradition.

It wouldn’t solve the problem completely, but hopefully it would reduce the number of undead they had to deal with.

The captain had barely finished issuing orders when the alarms were sounded. It was going to be a long day.

And an even longer night.

…

Chapter Text

“The trio is in a neverending competition to show up one another. There seems to be a wager placed as soon as the previous one has been resolved. This behavior is irrational. Alston was injured when he attempted to climb to the top of the castle ramparts and he’s going to be out more money than he has when he loses his bet regarding the queen’s child.”

Lucca made herself process the monotone rambling. Robo had been going on for hours about palace life. He seemed to know every mundane detail about every guard and servant. She listened to the stories anyway in an attempt to distract herself from the heat. Sweat pooled in places she didn’t know could sweat – in the creases of her elbows and knees, inbetween the dimples in her eyes. The bumbly dusty road seemed determined to spot her butt and legs with purple bruises as the wagon churned over every rock and pothole. And Robo’s rumor mill was definitely more engaging than watching Crono and Marle giggling about nothing a wagon’s length ahead.

“What do you mean, when he loses?” she asked.

“When the boy is born, he will lose the bet. He currently does not have enough funds to cover –”

“How do you know that?” she interrupted.

“In a good week he makes about sixteen silver pieces. He has a room in Truce that costs him about five pieces, and then he has to pay upkeep services for his – ”

“No, how do you know Leene’s baby is a boy? I thought your historical database didn’t go back this far.”

“It doesn’t, but the fetus is reading as male.”

“You can detect the gender of a child before it is born?”

“I can detect and evaluate all 46 chromosomes,” he reported.

“Just by looking at the mother?”

“The process is more involved than a use of simple visual sensors.”

“Well, obviously,” she whispered to herself.

She momentarily lost track of the conversation as she watched Crono’s face bloom into a beet red while Marle beamed superiorly. She attempted to squash her own irritation. How could he turn into such an idiotic lout around the blond girl? It was insulting really!

Though she could not determine if it was insulting to him or herself as his best friend. His genius best friend.

She tensed as she watched his easy stupid grin dissolve into hard concentration. She signaled for the caravan to stop, trusting his instincts implicitly even as she had railed against his idiocy in the second prior. She jumped down from her uneven bench to his side.

“What is it?”

“Something is wrong,” he stated ominously. She growled, wanting to punch him for the vagueness until he pointed towards the column of smoke rising on the horizon. That wouldn’t have been that concerning except the rising ash held a sickly greenish hue that looked anything but natural.

“You guys stay here,” he ordered absently. “The caravan needs to be guarded.”

Lucca snorted and followed him anyway. She knew he was only trying to keep her safe, but she knew that he was the one that would be up to his ears in trouble and without her, he’d have no idea how to get out of it.

Marle hesitated only a moment before following her example. Lucca smirked at her decision. Robo was the only one of their group to actually follow Crono’s direction. He sighed, but Lucca knew he was at least intelligent enough to refrain from comment.

He ordered six of the squad to stay behind with the caravan, which was now halted and two of them to scout out the encampment with them.

Crono led them off of the main path as they made their way silently through the rolling hills – the sense of camaraderie dissolved in the tension of uncertainty of what they next crest might reveal. As they got closer, scents of acrid smoke and burning hair and meat assaulted her nose. She fought down the resulting nausea with convulsive swallowing and keeping her eyes on her own feet as they made their way through the tall grasses that swayed around her.

She stumbled as she realized that her companions had stopped at the top of the current hill. A panicked grip on her arm accompanied by a gasp brought her attention up once again. And she forgot all about the stench. Flames of tall funeral pyers ate away at human and mystic corpses alike. Worn down soldiers and workers were dragging more onto the pile. Even the wounded as revealed by a limp and or an arm in a sling were helping with the task. The flames burned with a multitude of colors suggesting remnants of magic.

Crono was moving again trotting down the hill – and the others had quickly followed. Lucca urged herself into a run to catch up. As they made their way through the camp she was horrified to realize that every single soldier she saw was injured in one way or another. Some were being attended to right outside a tent, others were moving with stained bandages wrapped around a shoulder or thigh.

She was also shocked that they hadn’t been stopped or challenged at any point – at most, their ensemble was spared a curious glance or two, but the majority of men scrambling around the camp stayed focused on their tasks at hand.

It didn’t take long to find Captain Bridane – his low gruff voice that barked out orders to every man he saw carried well through the afternoon air. When he looked up and made eye contact with her red-headed best friend his face split with a relieved grin.

“Thank the Gods,” the captain exclaimed. “I need those supplies set up in…” his voice trailed off as he glanced all around looking for evidence of their supplies no doubt. “The caravan did arrive safely, yes?”

“Yes Captain!” Crono was quick to reassure. “We had them wait around the bluff – I wasn’t sure what kind of situation we were walking into.”

“Sound reasoning,” Bridane agreed. “Squire!”

A boy of perhaps twelve years came running, “Yes sir?”

“We have a supply caravan just north of our encampment – I need you to signal them that it is safe to approach. When they arrive, direct them to the southern mess halls and north eastern med tents.”

“Consider it done!” The boy announced enthusiastically before scampering off.

“We may last another night yet,” the captain muttered. Lucca suspected that he had not intended to be overheard, so she bit her lip, her stomach roiling once again with nerves, and forced herself not to comment.

…

Marle had spent the afternoon distributing medical supplies to the various med tents, and it had been clear to her that the physicians were overwhelmed. She had quickly volunteered her services. She had expected to be quizzed on her knowledge, but instead, the man gave her a smock, a set of gloves, and gestured to where she could find bandages, sutures, and surgical equipment. The doctor had given her a single stone-faced direction.

“No matter how much pain or injury a man is in – do not put him out of his misery. Keep him alive through the night if you can. If anyone dies, signal the guards outside immediately. There’s a pyre not fifty metras away. If the dead remain in the tent, his corpse will reanimate within moments and will likely destroy us all.”

She gave a controlled nod to confirm her understanding, feeling grateful once again for her ability to school her face to not let her sudden nerves or uncertainty that writhed in her gut show outwardly. The blond healer slipped into the blood-stained smock and moved to her first new patient trying not to think about what might happen should she fail to keep him alive.

She quickly moved into a routine as she moved between patients – she always checked for breathing and uncontrolled bleeding first. These were the patients most likely to die on her – she had already had to send out five soldiers to the pyre. Then she looked for opportunities where she could discreetly heal wounds internally – leaving the surface marred to leave the impression that the injury had simply been surprisingly superficial.

Quickly, she realized she needed to reserve the paranormal aid to the most desperate cases as she felt her energy draining rapidly as for every patient dismissed as well enough another three would come in. Their faces began blurring together.

“Will he make it?” a gruff voice asked her, nodding to the knight she was attending to. She glanced upward into the face of the Knight Captain Bridane, his face stoic, revealing nothing of what he was feeling.

“I don’t know yet,” she reported calmly, her eyes returned to the changing of the bandage. The knight was bleeding through them faster than she liked, but not so fast that she felt all hope was lost. “Do you know him?”

“We were trained together as squires. It’s been over thirty years now. Will he wake?”

“I don’t know that either,” she reported sadly.

“If he does, send word. He may have vital information,” he moved away with a limp. She noticed the sound of his odd gait.

“Captain, you need to get off that leg,” she advised.

He waved away her concern. “I will.”

“No, you will not,” she said with certainty, finally turning to give him her full attention.

He did not argue, but she knew that he would not listen.

“Captain, you need to rest or you’re going to lose that leg to infection,” Marle insisted.

He nodded before he continued to move out without further comment.

“Captain, you are to report to your tent immediately,” she ordered following him, mustering up every ounce of royal arrogance and command she had to bring to bear.

“Do you realize what is at stake here? It is so much more than a leg!” he roared back.

“I understand better than you will ever know,” she countered quite calmly. “But right now you can run this encampment just as well from your tent. The defense of this kingdom does not have to cost you your leg! At least not today!”

“How do propose to manage that?”

“Squire!” she called. The boy showed up immediately.

“How did you know about Dustin?” he demanded to know.

“I didn’t,” she admitted. “But this is a battlefield. There’s always a million squires and there’s always at least one shadowing the captain, often two so that one can run messages while the other is still shadowing you, whether the captain knows it or not,” she added with some amusement at the surprise in his expression. “The headmistress trains them to do so.”

“What?”

She laughed. “I take it you did not receive your squire training at the palace?”

“I’m right here you know!” the boy objected in irritation.

“It is your job to see that the knight captain does not move,” Marle explained to him. “He is to remain in his command tent. You will be his voice and feet. Do you understand?”

The boy nodded.

“Your horse is ready outside sir. I can help you to mount her. After we see to your comfort who would you like me to send to your tent?”

The knight captain opened his mouth, no doubt to object, but quickly wilted and relented. She smiled and winked at the young squire whose cheeks turned red in response. The boy was faster and far more efficient than the captain could ever be in his current shape.

“So how many other squires are there, helping you accomplish these impossible feats?” the knight captain asked as they made their way outside the tent.

“Three sir,” he responded crisply.

“Names?” he inquired.

Marle turned her attention back to her patient. He had bled through another bandage just in the time it had taken to bully the commander into seeing sense. Perhaps he needed a little special help.

…

The bugles sounded signaling another wave of attack. Crono’s hand itched to pull the katana at his waist into action. Crono’s team was off duty, if such a thing was possibly while your camp was under siege. But the Captain’s Lieutenant, Sir Griffin had told him to get four hours of rest before reporting for assignments. And he understood the logic of this, but his hand still tingled with the need to act.

He forced himself back to their assigned tent. Lucca was already huddled into a corner, but Robo and Marle were both missing. He assumed Robo was still on the scouting line, reporting the most accurate intelligence on Mystic troop movements. But Marle should have been resting an hour ago. She had promised him she would take a break.

He found her looking pale dead on her feet with her eyes glazed into the distance as she sluggishly moved from patient to patient. She jumped when he put a hand on her shoulder, then breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized that it was him.

“You need to stop,” he whispered.

“I can’t,” she entreated. “They need me.”

“You won’t be able to heal anyone else if you kill yourself,” he snapped at her knowing that she was pouring more of herself into the healing than anyone else in the room realized.

She glared at him in defiance. “I’ve handled my abilities for years,” she countered.

“I would bet that you’ve never had to face these kind of conditions – with so many in need all at once.”

“And could you stop?” she demanded. “If you knew that by staying you could save someone’s life?”

“I don’t know,” he conceded. “I don’t have to make that decision – but I can make sure you don’t burn yourself out so that you can heal more tomorrow!”

She deflated and nodded. And he escorted her back to their tent, ready to catch her wobbling frame. They slipped under the tent flap. Lucca looked as she hadn’t moved, and Robo had returned sometime during his absence – his eyes were blinking in his powered down state. Though Crono knew the machine was still taking passive readings of the surroundings and would be ready to boot up in less than a second should the need arise. He felt comforted having the unfailing sentry at their doorstep.

Once in the tent the blond wilted completely, her form suddenly trembling. When she sobbed for air, he realized that she had been crying.

“Are you okay?” he whispered bringing a hand to her shoulder.

She jumped at the question. She was silent for so long he thought she wasn’t going to answer.

“Battles and wars have somewhat of a romantic feel when you read about them. The reality is quite different,” she whispered finally. “Especially when you have to worry about your corpse coming back and wreaking havoc on your allies and companions.”

“Necromancy shouldn’t be possible,” Lucca complained from her spot on the other side of the tent. He hadn’t realized she was still awake, though it would be difficult for someone like Lucca to sleep through the activity of the camp.

“So you’re okay with magic? But necromancy is impossible?” Crono asked, his tone dripping in amusement despite everything that was happening.

“First, I’m not okay with magic! You know that! It does not make sense! And second, this is different! You can’t bring things back from the dead!”

“Strictly speaking, necromancy is not bringing anything back to life,” Robo interjected. “If magic can manipulate energy to manifest water and fire I see no reason that the same energy cannot be used to reanimate a corpse. Similar to telekinesis with any inanimate object.”

“Except far creepier,” Marle added.

“The creepiness factor does not correlate to how possible an event is.”

“Did you just get Robo to say ‘creepiness factor’?” Crono asked, grinning.

“We should probably get some sleep,” Lucca complained.

No one disagreed and their tent fell to silence – the only sound was the distant sounds of battle. Crono wasn’t sure it was possible to sleep. He preferred the banter – as it kept them all distracted. But he didn’t comment. Getting any sleep would be better than none.

…

Bridane rubbed his temples as he stared down the maps filled with colored tokens indicating troop placements and numbers, which numbered less than half of what he had three nights previous when he had arrived. He didn’t know how they were going to hold out.

Then tent flap rose again, and he looked up dreading more bad news. Crono and his strange trio of companions surrounded the desk.

“Morning Captain,” the swordsmen greeted brightly. “We wanted to check in and see where we could be of the most use as we try to head south.”

Bridane glanced back down at the map. Truth be told he wasn’t certain four individuals could make much a difference anywhere on the line, though he wasn’t going to turn them away either.

“It’s impressive captain at how well you have managed to hold the line with so few resources,” Marle interjected into the silence.

He snorted skeptically. “There will be Mystics occupying Truce within a fortnight.”

“That’s why you have to burn the bridge,” she told him quite calmly.

“My orders say otherwise.”

“You can’t hold this bridge,” she countered. “You don’t have the resources or the manpower.”

“You’re right. The only reason we’re still here, is because of the bottleneck created by the bridge. But we can’t hold it – it’s only a matter of time before we’re overrun. And then we won’t be able to burn the bridge.”

“If only there was a way to get at the necromancers,” he lamented.

He didn’t miss the glance Crono and Lucca.

“Why can’t we?” Lucca asked.

“They are kept at the rear of the enemy encampment on the other side of the river under heavy guard,” the captain sighed pointing to the area on the map. “I do not have enough men to hold the bridge, let alone break through their encampment. I certainly can’t fault their strategy.”

“Is there another way to get across the river? Maybe a place upstream, that we could ford?” Crono asked.

“To what purpose?”

“To take out those necromancers.”

“You would never be able to get close enough.”

“We don’t have to get that close,” Lucca chimed in. “We’ll be taking them out from a distance.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. Just assume…” Crono began, but Marle interrupted by shoving out her hand palm facing up into his line a vision. Before he could question what she wanted a whirling blue crystal manifested a few finger’s lengths above her hand. He stared frozen in shock at the impossible whirling blocks of ice.

“Is there a place to ford the river or no?” she asked, forcing his eyes back to her misty blue ones.

“Th…There is – about three kilometers east of here,” he pointed to the appropriate location on the map.

“So here’s the new plan!” Crono began excitedly.

“Wait a minute!” Bridane objected, jumping to his feet. “How is it possible that you can use magic?” he demanded, fighting the urge to draw his sword in that instant.

“Captain Bridane!” Marle quickly jumped in pushing him back to his chair. “I know that you distrust magic – I know that it goes against every fiber of your being. It is unnatural and has only ever been used by your enemies. But think! Have we ever used our abilities against your cause?”

Bridane realized exactly how Marle healed the king when no one else could. And he had sudden suspicions about how his leg felt infinitely better so suddenly a few moments prior. He itched to tear off the bandage to confirm his suspicions.

“And have the mystics ever encountered humans able to use magic?” Crono asked.

“Not that I know of,” Bridane slowly answered. “Certainly not under my command.” The Mystics would be completely unprepared for a raid. The Captain couldn’t squash the hope that suddenly bubbled forth in his chest. Maybe his men would make it through this campaign. And just maybe… this strange fellowship would be able to take out the demon king.

“So what was your plan?” Bridane asked, turning back to the swordsman.

…

“Griffon, did you know that squires are trained to shadow the officers?” the captain asked him, his attention on a map of the inland terrain surrounding the river.

“Doesn’t everyone?” knight responded absently.

The knight captain sighed. “Can you draft a list for me of the knights that were trained away from the palace?”

“Certainly sir.”

“Which squad is best suited to stealth missions?”

“Mine sir,” the liaison answered without hesitation.

The captain eyed him skeptically.

“No seriously sir,” Griffon reassured, slightly offended that the captain would think he would give less than the most accurate information and assessment of the Guardian troops with stakes such as these.

Bridane nodded in acknowledgement. “You will be escorting our guests to the ford, and getting them as close to the enemy perimeter as you can. Master Crono has more detailed plans on the route and destination. Follow his direction.”

“Yes sir,” he agreed readily. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as your unit is ready to head out. You will likely be gone for thirty-six hours.”

“But Captain,” Griffon objected, “that will be during the next wave of necromancy. You need every man here.”

“Your mission is to eliminate the threat of the mystic mages,” the captain interrupted.

Griffon stood silent for a moment in shock.

“How?” he made himself ask.

“Our guests… they will complete that part of the mission. They have certain… abilities that I… cannot reveal to you at this time, but I would not authorize this mission if I did not think it could work.”

“Yes sir!”

“Griffon,” the Captain’s tone changed completely and he turned to look at him straight in the eye. “Whatever you see out there – whatever you think of it – our guests must complete their mission. You must protect them.”

“Yes sir.”

“At any cost. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Griffon’s grip on his sword tightened, understanding suddenly that this could very well be his last mission.

…

Chapter Text

“Sir Griffin, Master Crono wanted me to inform you that we need to be ready to get moving again within the half hour.”

The young knight’s eyes snapped open at the wake-up call immediately, alert and ready to continue their trek. “Is there anything to eat?” he asked.

The soldier handed him some dried provisions – made of fruit and nuts. He craved something warm, but he knew they could not risk disturbing the local game in a hunt nor the use of a fire. He made his way through the camp that was rapidly starting to look like the natural forest again – his squad had done a remarkable job insuring that they left no evidence of their presence behind.

As he made his inspections, he walked over to the blond archer who was in the process of packing up her sleeping roll. She was an oddity in more way than one – she looked almost exactly like her majesty to the point where he was uncertain he would be able to tell them apart were they not standing side by side were it not for their obvious age difference. And second, she had demonstrated quite clearly the evening before that she actually knew how to use the crossbow she carried. He had rarely encountered a woman capable of fighting, and here he was on a mission with two of them. And the Lady Marle moved and spoke with all the mannerisms of a trained noble who knew her worth. He also could not fathom how this odd quartet would be able to succeed against the enemy mages where their own men had failed time and again.

So, he sat on a fallen log behind the archer as she checked her crossbow, suspecting she would be the most forthright of the strange fellowship he was charged with escorting and protecting.

“How will you do it?” he asked softly staring into the dark green foliage of the forest.

“Are you sure you want to know?” she countered, her eyes never leaving the task of packing up her gear.

“I’m sure I would prefer to react to whatever it is now rather than in the heat of battle.”

“That’s fair,” she stated calmly. She looked at him directly then as if deciding whether or not he could be trusted. “We can use magic,” she told him bluntly.

It took a second for the statement to register. And even once it did, his brain refused to accept it – the very idea so wrong and so impossible he could not make sense of it.

She left him spluttering as she rose to her feet and lifted her heavy, but now condensed, pack to her petite shoulders.

“How?” he finally managed to choke out.

“It’s a long story that I can’t tell you now, but I do promise you, we are human.”

He stared at her for a long time before he finally nodded. “My men will protect your team. You had better be able to do what you say you can.”

He suddenly understood both why the captain suddenly had hope that they might get through this campaign and why he didn’t want anyone to know how it would be done.

…

Lucca shivered in her damp clothes scowling at the intermittent thick drops of water that fell onto her shoulder and head. She glanced at the sky - darkening from red and gold to deep blue and purple. There were no clouds, so she glared at the overhead dark green trees that were fading into silhouettes – casting long shadows across their assembled team. The trees were to blame for the dew and the clinging dampness.

“My scouts have mapped out the Mystic sentry line,” Griffin reported as he drew a quick sketch with a long stick in the ground. He marked one location with an ‘x’. “They are particularly thick here because they are stationed in pairs with overlapping fields of vision probably because they know they are exposed to the wildnerness on this side. We cannot leave the cover of trees without being detected.”

They were huddled together behind some shrubbery fifty paces from the edge of the tree line. Lucca could see the Mystic encampment anytime she glanced over their covering outcropping of rocks and bushes, but she was purposely avoiding the view of temporary wooden fortifications that protected fields of tents as she didn’t want to think about it at all. She tried to bolster her nerves by remembering successful reckless jaunts of the past, which most recently included infiltrating a secret Mystic base, however she knew that this mission brought combat and risk to an entirely new level.

“What’ve you detected Robo? Are there any defensible positions between
here and the edge of their camp?” the inventor asked.

“I concur with Sir Griffin. The line of sight created by the Mystic guard posts is effective and efficient. There are a few stone outcropping before their sentry line, but with our numbers we are most defensible if we begin our assault from here if you are able to strike from this distance.”

“What about the necromancers?” Crono asked. “Can you detect them?”

“There are two tents under heavy protection by Mystic Squads with twelve life signs each sitting in a circle. By the uniformity of their arrangement, I believe these are the Mystic mages.”

“How does he do that?” Griffin asked Marle as the others continued talking. She shrugged in response.

“Magic,” Lucca quipped back dismissively. She did not miss the knight’s pallor turning white as snow and regretted the comment.

“But is it all of them?” Crono asked ignoring the side conversation. “Are there others off duty somewhere?”

“I am uncertain. I am unaware of any distinguishing features between soldiers and mages, and my sensors are only accurate for about five hundred metras or so.”

“It’s okay Robo,” Marle reassured with a hand to his metallic shoulder. Lucca smiled at how Marle treated the android like a real person so naturally. “Can you hit both tents at once from here Crono? It’s a bit far.”

“I think I can do it,” Crono reassured, “I think I can call the lightning from the sky rather than from me.”

“Are you sure? Lucca and I can target the other tent if need be.”

“I feel like you have other plans,” he said grinning at her.

She smirked. “I might, but those necromancers are the most important targets and we can’t afford to risk not hitting them all simultaneously.”

“I can do it,” he assured her again.

“Lucca, you got any more of those ethers?” Marle asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Take one. And if you have any extras, give one to Crono and me.”

The inventor dug through her pack fishing out the requested items before doling them out to the other two. She downed one quickly wincing at the bitter taste.

“Robo?” Marle continued. “When we were running from Medina Village, you did something that stunned all the pursuing Mystics. Can you do something like that again?”

“I can use it in one direction – anything in front of my position will be affected for a range of about a hundred metras. I cannot distinguish between friend and foe, and it will likely be ineffective against necromanced troops.”

“Why?” Lucca asked.

“The effect is a result of sensory overload, but in the case of a reanimated corpse, there is no nervous sensory system to overload – the soldiers are being operated from a distance.”

“That could be useful despite its limitations,” Griffin agreed. “During the skirmish, I want you to report what you see directly to me and if you’re on the frontline, you can use your… sensory overload on approaching waves. My men will be right behind the line he maintains, armed and with fire on hand to pick off anything that gets through. The sun is setting – we will want to begin our assault the second it goes down to protect our encampment from this evening’s never ending assault.”

Crono nodded in agreement. “You should brief the rest of your squad and we will signal you once we’re all in position.”

He turned to the android. “I may need your help Robo, in sighting my target.”

“Certainly,” Robo agreed.

“You guys should set up a little further back, so you have more rocks for cover,” he told Lucca and Marle.

Lucca did not need to be told twice – she and Marle were definitely on defense.

“Woah!” Lucca burst out as the familiar crawling sensation caused by the ether spread across her skin with magic suddenly surging to her fingertips with little bursts of flame. “It’s bursting at the seam.”

“Are we ready then?” Crono called back to them, his own hands crackling with electric power that he could not contain.

“Let’s do this!” Marle called back, gleefully clapping her hands together.

“Are you rubbing off on her?” Lucca asked mock suspiciously, casting Crono a sardonic grin.

“Here goes nothing,” he sent the signal to Griffin and watched as the sun fell below the horizon. He raised his arms to the sky.

…

Chadwick was no knight – just a common conscript with leather armor fastened together by his local blacksmith, but he knew something had changed – the camp, which before had suffered from the sluggishness of resignation, now positively buzzed with activity. Voices still whispered in corners, however now those whispers were tinged with excited anticipation rather than barely suppressed fear. Personally, he did not share in their excitement. He knew all too well that this campaign would take dozens more of them just this one night.

He methodically went through his supplies – confirming that his arrows and torches were both coated in the flammable tar that stood as the only effective deterrent to the undead hordes. He tried to not think at all about anything so as not to be consumed by the dread he feared was getting worse every time the sun started to fall in the sky.

“I just got our orders. The entire camp has been summoned to the pit,” Alger, his squad and roommate, reported at his shoulder.

“To the pit? Now?” Chadwick repeated with surprise, glancing at the horizon where the sun was starting to stain the sky with orange and red. They had two quarters – maybe three, before the sun would be swallowed into the jagged mountains that lined the coast. “But the sun…”

“I think we’re finally gonna go on the offensive,” the other man reported excitedly.

Chadwick grunted in acknowledgment refusing to comment on the rumor. If true, he saw it only has a final suicidal charge – to force the Mystics far enough back so that they could set the bridge alight as should have been done weeks ago. Everyone on the ground knew that, and wondered what their commanders were smoking to see it differently.

But even if such a change was a death sentence, anything was better than the nonstop fighting against nightmares come to life, he thought cynically. This was why he tried not to let himself think at all.

Within moments he stood in line facing south towards the bridge between Alger and Owen and realized that his tent mate was correct. This assembly wasn’t just one rotation as he had assumed – it was everyone, Captain Bridane included, who stood with the bridge and darkening eastern sky to his back.

Chadwick didn’t understand the timing – still worriedly glancing toward the burning ball of light descending through the sky every few seconds. The waves of demons and fiends would follow mere moments later.

“I stood before you three days ago wishing I had any good news to share, and I’m eager to report that tonight I have news that may turn the tide of this battle. I know many of you have believed that our campaign has been outmanned and destined to fail, but I do not believe this is so – at least, not any longer.”

“We devised a plan and sent out a team on a stealth mission to rid us of the Mystic Mages responsible for this unnatural abomination that has been attacking us mercilessly. And when this threat has been eliminated, and I have every confidence that it will be within the hour, we must seize this opportunity as the best chance to turn the tide of not only this battle, but the war itself!”

“We are no longer attempting to hold this bridge. We are taking it back tonight!”

Men cheered. Chadwick was not one of them – he had turned around completely, focused on the sun, which had just slipped under the crest of coastal range.

Just as it did, the twilight sky behind their commander flashed with intense light as lightning lanced down from the cloudless sky striking multiple points within their enemy’s camp. The booming thunder less than a second behind pounded through his chest.

“The very gods are with us!” Bridane shouted. “We will answer their call!” and then he signaled the charge.

The entire encampment surged ahead as if they shared one mind, with thundering battle cries. And this time, Chadwick screamed with them, feeling hopeful for this first time this season that he might actually make it through to the other side.

…

General Ozzie loved battlefield strategy as much as he despised the unbearable filth of the outdoors. The dampness that seeped into his robes turned him impatient and sour, the dirt that crusted under his claws drove his hypochondriac tendencies to new heights, and the food rations tasted of wood, which were bland and uninspiring to the refined palette of a Mystic nobleman. But to say he had a talent for battlefield strategy would be quite an understatement. And since no military plan ever survived the first encounter, the gargantuan imp commander could not leave the field in the hands of any of his compatriots or subordinates. So, he stood here surrounded by his lieutenants receiving final updates and confirming orders as they transitioned into the night assault.

The general was pleased with their progress. The humans could only last another night or two at best. If his men didn’t break the Guardian southern line tonight, he would send the standard troops all day tomorrow, and surely the next evening the humans would no doubt fall. This Knight Captain Bridane was competent – used limited resources incredibly effectively. He was certainly no Sir Cyrus, but that level of military genius was born only once or twice in century, but Captain Bridane was a worthy opponent. If the human commander had had more resources, this campaign might have gone very differently.

Ozzie knew though that Bridane was not so fortunate and even the humans knew their defeat was inevitable. Mystic scouts and spies had reported increased activity in the human camp – suggesting they were planning something. Ozzie took this as a sign of the humans’ growing desperation.

Power of his own element arced through the sky to the ground unerringly striking two of the ceremonial tents bringing his musing thoughts to an abrupt halt. The electrical discharge left waves of magical disturbance in its wake, freezing him in place for only a second.

The general cursed the existence of magic using humans even has he barked out orders to his lieutenants that stood on either side. He followed magical echoes of the artificial lightning to their source – on their eastern front.

“I need the regiment on the northern front reinforced, they must be prepared for the assault that is no doubt coming!”

A naga shot off quickly with these directions.

“Our remaining mages and any active decedents are to direct their attention to the assault to the East, and I want half of the second contingent backing them up. Sound every alarm that there is. I need all troops alert and ready.”

Magic using humans, his mind repeated in frustration. If he hadn’t encountered the phenomena two decades prior he wouldn’t have believed it possible. This event suggested the numbers of human mages had been increasing and this was of great concern. Humans had been able to use magic eons ago – he knew that from his own history though the humans themselves would write off these stories as legend and myth. It was a skill they had long ago forgotten and actually actively culled from their population out of fear. Prejudiced idiots.

But this cultural attitude appeared to be waning as their numbers seemed to be growing. What would the magic using human population look like in fifty years? What danger did this pose to his people?

He could not risk waiting to find out. It was far better to eradicate all humans before they could continue to breed this skill into their people.

…

Griffin crouched behind a rather large rocky outcropping, amongst his men, similarly hidden throughout the forest floor. He held himself tense and ready watching the mystic soldiers and necromanced skeletons alike thundering towards them with raging battle cries. His men stood silent, their defense not a solid line of man power, but rather hidden amongst the foliage, waiting until their enemies stepped one metra too far – into the traps lain along the carpet of the forest.

The enemy could not know their number – but with only a dozen of them with orders to seem like five times as many, they could not hope to hold back the hordes that approached. Not when merely equipped with crossbows and a short range weapon of their choice. Their torches remained unlit in the hope the lack of fire would make their locations that much harder to discern. Despite their expertise and training, it could still never be enough. They were dependent on the abilities of their charges.

The advancing wave suddenly thinned by a third, with Mystic soldiers falling mysteriously to the ground. That would be Robo’s handiwork. The decayed corpses did not falter – instead, the impossible undead lumbered forward, unstoppable. The very ground betrayed the mindless drones, giving way at their feet further reducing the number of those opposed. But it was still not a manageable number, and yet, his men did not falter. They remained steadfast at their posts ready to take on their foe, as futile as such a confrontation would be.

The knight felt a sudden surge of pride in his men at their solidarity, echoed with a wave of anxiety. He wished he had given them better warning of their third wave of defense. He should have trusted them.

Just before the victims of necromancy had fallen into range, waves of fire and ice spread out before them holding the hordes at bay at the hands of Lucca and Marle. The sudden tension in his heart and his men grew palpable. The knowledge and fear that the world held too many impossible things – all of which wanted to kill you – it was too much. The desire to bolt in the other direction and never look back, pulsed alive and tempting. The reality of magic was far different than the stories – most humans that came this close to magic never lived to tell of it.

He tightened his grip on his bow and allowed himself to suck in the air around him for a single second. “Anything that gets through, we have to take down!” he shouted at them, his own arrow knocked. “We are lost if we lose our companions!” He could not bring himself to label them mages.

But so far, none of the skeletons had made it this far with the magic offense decimating the remains of the Mystic line. Griffin needed the men to be ready for the second that changed. Because it would.

…

Crono watched the undead lumber past from the bough of a tree he had quickly ascended when the assaulting wave had hit. The pulsing waves of fire and ice held back the undead forces, but the fact that the creatures remained animated, suggested there were more necromancers to be found.

“Robo! Follow me!” he called, leaping down quickly and then rolling out his landing.

“It is unwise to leave the cover of our allies,” the android remarked.

“We’ve missed something Robo. We need to find the last tent. Keep your sensors running.”

“I would never turn them off in these conditions.”

They crawled slowly through the tall grasses and underbrush that grew along the edge of the forest. Robo slowed his progress, but he also warned Crono of nearby troop movements and sentry lines of sight. The swordsman followed the machine’s advice without question, ever faithful that the mechanical beast wove him through countless unseen obstacles.

They made steady progress to the east. Crono prayed they moved through the Mystic forces undetected, as their enemies remained focused on the obvious threat that comprised the rest of their team. They had to find any remaining circles of necromancers to have any chance.

“I believe I have detected another team of mages,” Robo reported. “They are located approximately four hundred and ten metras from our position fourteen degrees south of our current trajectory.”

Crono winced at this news as he couldn’t see the target at all, hidden as they were in the tall grasses. He needed a better vantage point.

“Robo, can you cover me for a few seconds?”

“Certainly,” was the calm synthetic response. “What do you intend?”

“You’re not going to like it.”

“I have no doubt of that.”

“Was that sarcasm, Robo?”

“It was not. My statement was consistent with the facts.”

Crono chuckled.

…

“The enemy has mages!” the Mystic General barked to the squad of elemental mages he had assembled from other units. “I have detected at least three, but there appear to only be two active at the moment. We’re dealing with ice and fire. All other targets can be ignored. Make the mages your absolute priority.”

After nods of agreement, Ozzie led the crew towards his assembled ground troops watching the progress of his first assault wave. The enemy mages had decimated his line – only a handful of decedents had made it past the traps planted in the false ground. He signaled the second wave forward, and they charged. Seconds later spirals of flame and icy lances tore through his forces.

In that moment the green imp felt major respect for what his human counterparts had learned to counter of the years of their constant conflict.

“I need archers!” he bellowed, even as he drew runes in the air rapidly summoning the fallen Mystic Warriors back to their feet, to be sent once again lumbering forward against the human fiends. He blessed the bodies with protection against the elemental magic, and suddenly the walking corpses were able to push through the magical barrier without harm. The human scout unit would be torn to shreds within moments.

“Your archers have arrived milord.”

“Set them up on that ridge. They’re aiming for the source of the magic. Focus on the ice mage first!”

The arrows were loosed within seconds, filling the air with whistling death. Then a second. After the third, the ice sheets within the air melted, and received no reinforcements.

“One down, two to go,” Ozzie mumbled to himself.

…

Marle cowered behind the makeshift barrier. The obstacle was more of a rock than anything and held more advantage in camouflage than actual fortification.

She automatically slammed a new crossbow bolt into her weapon desperately avoiding all thought of how she had barely evaded her own death by arrow.

Load. Aim. Shoot. Duck. Reload.

She repeated the litany to herself again and again trying to block the panic that had sunk into her writhing stomach like a coiled snake. She was far too aware of the fact that this was not like any combat situation she had ever been in. That at any second, the entire Mystic army could break through the thin line of defense and coming pouring around her nearly defenseless position.

“Marle!” her newest girlfriend whispered harshly, plummeting to the ground beside her. “We’re not going to hold them back with arrows! Why did you stop using your magic?!”

Marle’s mind was numb, in blind panic – she couldn’t concentrate with the magic being thrown at her – along with the physical projectiles. She was their primary target. She had managed to catch projectiles, both magic and not, on direct path for her head with shields of ice. But they were too close – mere fingerlengths away from her skull. She couldn’t filter out the fear anymore, which only made her that much more afraid.

“I can’t do it anymore Lucca,” she sobbed.

“Yes, you can!” the other girl insisted slamming another vial of ether against her chest.

“How do you know?” Marle asked, sounding pathetic even to her own ears.

“Because if you don’t, we’re all dead,” the other girl said absently even as she continued to conjure wave after wave of flame.

Marle allowed the familiar crossbow to drop from her frozen fingers, as she fumbled for the vial, praying it would be enough. She downed the contents quickly, embraced the quick burning, tingling sensation that flooded her veins. Took deep breaths and closed her eyes trying to extinguish her panic.

But the sounds of battle flooded her senses once again and her throat constricted – she desperately drew in air.

The fear will remain. Just set it aside, the familiar voice directed.

She then closed her eyes briefly, feeling what it meant to build a wall as Spekkio had taught them to block out the fear and the sounds of battle. She pulled the magical fields from the ground below, willing them to solidify into icicle needles and lances before launching the unnatural projectiles straight into the heart of the invading forces – joining the swirls of fire that already stood to push the undead monsters backwards.

The trudging undead walked straight through the flames and needles as if they were walking through a summer breeze.

“Lucca!” she screamed in panic, reaching for her crossbow once again. “It’s not working anymore!”

“Can you shoot them with boulders of ice?” the inventor shouted back. “Like throw them back even if we can’t hurt them? I will burn the ground beneath them. The unstable ground should at last slow them down!”

…

Bridane sat astride his mount watching the steady progress of his slow, but methodical charge. He held back one line while the first surged forward. Once they met heavy resistance the second would reinforce the first. Once they had fortified their new position, they would repeat this process.

Their progress accelerated as they were now only met with pockets of Mystic resistance scrambling to defy them, paltry and insignificant compared to what his men had faced on a nightly basis this past week. Too little defense, far too late.

Rather than feel encouraged as his men penetrated further into the heart of the Mystic encampment, burning tents and supplies as they moved forward, he felt queasy. This was almost too easy – where had the majority of the Mystic forces gone?

His men surged forward again, cresting a small ridge and he saw it. The edge of the forest lit up in waves of blue and orange flashes of light hurled at one another. Griffin’s team was still holding out because of the unlikely human fellowship’s unnatural abilities.

He signaled for a slight course correction. It looked as though Sir Griffin could use some aid.

If they could get there in time.

…

“We need to get on top of one of those sentry towers,” Crono pointed to the series of wooden towers that could be made out in under the light of an almost full moon. “From there we should be able to see the full encampment and make a visual on my target.”

“The towers are manned with two sentries each, and there’s an other set of sentries patrolling on the ground. The ground also seems to be armed with traps. It would be ill-advised to make an attempt to penetrate the line.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Crono agreed, grateful for the android’s sensors that could cut through the darkness of the true night sky. The flashes of red and blue in his peripheral vision assured him that his friends were still holding their own defensive line. They didn’t have time for caution – not that Crono ever really took the time to be cautious.

“We’re could punch a hole in the sentry net.”

“I think if using your magic would defeat the purpose of stealth.”

“What if we used your magic?” Crono countered instead.

“To what ability are you referring?”

“Your shock grenade thing.”

The android nodded. “Stay behind me.”

Crono kept back a few paces from his synthetic companion, but followed carefully trying to place his feet on wet leaves rather than twigs that broke under his footfall.

Robo stopped in his track and Crono crouched low to the ground, unable to see around the golden android, but trusting that Robo would warn him any immediate danger. A quiet thud of a body hitting the ground broke the immediate silence.

“There’s two more on either side about fifty metras out, but you should be able to make your way to the nearest tower without being spotted,” Robo said, his modulated voice dropping in volume. “I will follow you and cover your trail.”

“Thanks Robo,” Crono leapt onto the scaffolding and began climbing upward on the side that remained in the shadow of the moonlight overhead.

The swordsman stopped just before he crested the top, knowing the sentry above held the high ground in any kind of altercation. Instead he listened – trying to locate the mystic soldier’s exact position.

His patience was rewarded – the wood creaking beneath the weight of the creature above him as he moved from one side of the watch post to the other before standing still once again. As soon as he moved past, Crono shot upwards onto the platform himself, and struck the sentry in the back of his head with the hilt of his blade. The autouru crumpled to the platform’s floor, just as Robo joined him atop the tower, his golden eyes shining in the darkness.

The swordsman took in the view from atop the tower, looking for the elusive enclaves that held a circle of mages. In the Northwest corner, the very ground seemed to pulse forward as an unbroken sea of corpses and skeletons trudged forward. But to the South, the Mystic Camp itself was alive with panicked activity, scrambling to counter Bridane’s unexpected charge. The camp was littered with circular and square tents though, nothing distinguishable about one over the multitude of others.

“Do you see it?” Crono asked, trying not to panic, knowing that every second of inaction, increased their chances of being detected.

Robo pointed out the target. “It’s on the far end of the ring – one closer than the furthest edge.”

Crono spotted the one Robo indicated and nodded. “Hope that’s the only one.” He called the sparks to his palm even as he encouraged their formation in the cloudless sky overhead. He released the build-up, allowing it to crackle along his arms – he watched as the lightning lanced down like a javelin thrown from the heavens. The thunder reverberated through his chest in an immediate echo of his strike.

The outside of the tent burst into flames, and as small forms in the distance ran from the burning enclosure he was quick to send successive bolts to the ground, ending their attempt to flee.

The flicker of fire from the adjacent sentry tower sentry caught in his peripherals. He turned just in time to watch the arrow released.

“Robo!” he yelled in warning. The android had already sidestepped the projectile. A second arrow pierced Crono in the shoulder from the other side, followed by a third that burrowed deep into his thigh, and he fell to the deck with a sharp piercing scream, suddenly unable to support his own weight.

A fourth arrow struck the sentry tower itself, lighting it up in flames.

…

The night sky lit up with a blinding flash, with booming thunder not even a second behind. Marle knew the unnatural maelstrom meant Crono had been successful, and when the approaching undead fell to the ground in a heap, she almost laughed in hysterical relief. Then one of the sentry towers lit up like a bonfire and she knew for certain that this was not good news.

“What is he doing?” the princess screamed, as she tore forward, but Griffin and one of his men held her back.

“He’s taking care of the necromancy problem!” Lucca shrieked. “We need to take care of the advancing army problem!”

Her partner was correct. The skeletons and corpses had stopped in their tracks, but there were plenty of regular Mystics still pushing their line. But Marle, stood distracted.

“Don’t lose focus!” Griffin screamed at her. “He’s either dead already or he’ll survive for another twenty minutes. But if you run out there, we are all lost – him too,” he barked urgently.

She swallowed convulsively forcing back tears of dread. She wasn’t sure she believed him but she knew he was right in that she couldn’t go charging out. She nodded carefully, trying to draw her attention back to the action at the front line that Lucca’s fire and Griffin’s archers protected them from.

She shrieked and ducked down as a hail of arrows descended upon them. Griffin, who had stepped in front of her, fell backwards into her form – an arrow shot clean through his throat. The other man lit up in glowing red flames as if he was covered in pitch. He threw himself to the ground in a violent screaming fit in an attempt to placate the hot tendrils that scored his body.

The princess stared dumbly at the fallen soldiers, at the lieutenant that had just saved her life, blood gurgling from the soft tissue of his larynx. She leaned forward frantically, channeling healing magic to her hands. The flesh knitted back together quickly, but his eyes remained glazed over.

A Mystic climbed over the body and struck down. Marle saw the blade coming down. She tried to scramble backwards, but Griffin’s weight above her, pinned her down.

A blast of fire burned through her assailant, and Marle wilted in relief.

“Marle, I can’t keep the line back by myself. I need you!” Lucca called in panic.

The fear in her friend’s voice, sent the princess scrambling from under the knight’s heavy body. She rolled to her feet and sent a blast of ice over her companion’s shoulder, taking refuge from her grief and panic in the mental concentration performing the magic required. Lucca was right behind her again with a wall of fire.

They developed a beautiful rhythm again, and the wall of fire and ice stood, each of them getting a break a few seconds of respite in between, tearing through the immediate assaulting wave. The adrenaline in her system kept her from thinking about Griffin or Crono.

“Crono’s alive,” Lucca assured her absently as if she could read her thoughts, the streams of fire never ceasing.

“How do you know?” Marle demanded, continuing to counter the magic and physical assault being thrown at their team with boulders of ice.

“The lightning.”

The periodic lances of light struck from the cloudless sky to the ground again and again, to be followed by booming thunder filled her chest with blooming hope.

…

The imp commander was impressed at the raw power these human elemental mages brought forth. However, they lacked finesse and he knew he could exhaust or burn them out with just time, but he was losing dozens of his men trying to break through their defensive line every minute.

“Jag,” Ozzie called to the autouru at his left.

“Yes sir?”

“I need one of Flea’s scroll. This will be the insignia,” he traced the symbol in the air with his hands three times. “It’s in my command tent. Hurry!”

The scout took off running. Ozzie had his assault slow against the human unit defended with mages. Let the humans think they had worn down his line. This would also limit casualties until the scout returned.

He was back within moments anyway. The green imp spread the scroll flat and read through the spell quickly. Mind magic was not his specialty, but he suspected these human mages would never see this coming, so he didn’t have to keep his work subtle.

The imp commander quickly cast out a magical pulse, designed to send flowing chakras into scattered mayhem like a mental flash bomb.

The magical lances of fire, ice, and lightning immediately ceased and the world fell silent like the silence after an earthquake.

But then both sides recovered from the moment of silence. Ozzie took advantage, ordering his men to push past the thin and now unfortified defense. His men burned through the underbrush that uncovered the crude thinly veiled traps beneath them. Then ordered the ladders forward to span the distance across the pits. Once in place, there would be no escape for this human contingent that had the gall to attack them in stealth.

A flurry of sound, clashing steel and screams of agony from behind sent the general whirling. The human forces from the bridge had broken through.

Recognizing that his forces were not prepared to handle the battle on two fronts, he signaled for a retreat to the south. An unfortunate and unexpected loss, but a mere setback. The human mages would not catch them unaware again.

…

When Marle woke up, she wished fervently that she hadn’t. Sounds were too loud, colors were too bright, she saw moving shapes, but could not make sense of any of it. Her muscles twitched in painful and uncontrollable spasms. She opened her mouth to speak, but only nonsense came out. She felt the tears roll down her face into her ears, but she was unable to wipe them away as her arms and hands would not heed her mind’s call.

She kept her terror mostly under control, until someone started speaking to her. The problem wasn’t so much that they were speaking, as it was she could not understand anything they said. What had happened to her?

She started thrashing on the cot, screaming in panic. Several pairs of hands suddenly held her down, and she allowed them to calm her fighting form, but her wracking sobs intensified. One warm hand remained, on her face, brushing her forehead and cheeks soothingly. She leaned into the comforting gesture, reassured that this at least, she could understand.

The hand stayed with her for several minutes, but it eventually left her in the cold predawn air. She tried to hold back her loneliness, knowing that wherever she was, they were taking care of her. She trusted they would return.

Her patience was rewarded. Her unkempt brown haired caretaker returned and he spoke to her. The first time she still did not understand, but the second time she could place some bits and pieces, and on the third attempt she finally could put meaning to his words.

“My name is Breccan,” he told her, as he adjusted the lenses that sat across the bridge of his nose. “Can you understand me?”

She tried to respond, and only succeeded in creating and indecipherable blast of sound. Frowning at her lack of coherency, she nodded instead.

He smiled. “I am the closest thing Captain Bridane has to an expert in magic, so I have been entrusted to care for you and your companions until you have recovered. General Ozzie hit you with a spell called Chaotic Disruption. I had to scour through my oldest tomes, for information on it, as it only affects magic users,” he rambled excitedly like a professor who had just stumbled upon a great historic document. “I’m certain you have questions, but you won’t be able to ask them for some time yet, so let me try to guess at a few of them.

“Your confusion and disorientation is completely normal. The spell in question scrambled and clogged all the chakras within your body, but only temporarily. For a time, your mind is unable make sense of anything. It is something that apparently, only spellcasters are susceptible too, as the rest of us already possess clogged chakras. Its effects are completely temporary. Within another day or so, you should be back to your old self.”

She nodded in understanding.

He smiled again. “I will be back to check on your progress, but you’ve recovered remarkably quickly. Faster than your friends.”

He started to move away, and she clutched at his long flowing sleeve. She wanted to know more about her friends. Were they okay? Had Crono come back in one piece? Lucca? What about Griffin’s squad?

He turned back and she jerked her head to her right, indicating the bed at her side. He seemed to understand. “I will send someone over to tell you about your team.”

He left then leaving her only with the memories of the campaign. When Griffin’s second in command arrived, she was already crying.

“It wasn’t your fault,” was the first thing he said.

Marle physically flinched from the reassurance, feeling that in this, the soldier was dead wrong. Lucca had held it together – had remained in control through the whole battle. She had panicked several times.

“This was your first campaign?”

She wilted in embarrassment and shame. Perhaps it had been foolish to assume that her abilities would make up for her inexperience. But she nodded.

“You did well for your first campaign.”

She shook her head violently, feeling that she should have done better. Sir Griffin might still be alive had she held it together, if only to heal him the second the arrow had struck. He took her hand then.

“I have seen some of the best fighters let their panic get the best of them. You had many moments of panic, but you always brought yourself back. And your abilities kept most of us alive. Honestly, when that first wave was charging, I didn’t think any of us were going to make it.”

“H…. How many?” she managed to ask, pleased that she formed real and decipherable words.

“Eleven of our squad made it home.”

Out of eighteen. She knew from her studies, and the situation itself, that this statistic was a miracle – an outlier in the extreme. But it felt like a failure when all she could do was picture Griffin’s gurgling throat and dead eyes, and her throat locked up again with the desire to just cry.

“There are always losses,” he said.

“Not during peace,” she countered.

“We do not have the luxury of peaceful times. The Mystics are bent not only on our subjugation, but on our annihilation. Some of us will die, but we have to fight. Otherwise everyone will die.”

She shrunk in on herself a bit, at his passion. He couldn’t understand the beauty of the future, but he fought for it.

“I thought you would also want to know that your fiery friend is recovering in the next room and that Sir Robo brought Master Crono in shortly after the Mystics retreated.”

Her eyes widened in panic.

“He’s alive. Somewhat creatively saved himself,” he smiled. “Sir Robo won’t let any of the other healers see to him. He’s been asking for you.”

The reminder that Crono himself might not have walked away from this battle got her to her feet. She swayed for only a moment, and the soldier stood at her side ready to catch her should she stumble.

“Where… is he?” the words were becoming easier to form.

“I will take you to him.” The walk was not far – only in the net infirmary tent placed adjacent to the first to expand their space.

“Marle!” Robo greeted. “I didn’t expect to see you on your feet so soon.”

“I heard you… were asking for me?” She nodded in thanks to her escort, and he nodded, taking his leave.

“I’ll be right outside if you need,” the soldier told her. She nodded her acknowledgment again.

“Robo, how is he?” she asked, turning towards her friend asleep on the military cot.

“His femoral artery was punctured by the arrow. He cauterized the wound himself using his magic, and the arrow is locked in place. As far as I can tell from my scans, he did well, and there is no internal bleeding. I refused to allow the medics here to work on him because I surmised they would attempt to amputate the limb.”

Her face whitened at the pronouncement, her emerald eyes never straying from Crono’s form. His white bandanna had fallen away and his red spikey hair lay in complete disarray framing his sleeping face. He still had an arrow in his thigh and his shoulder, his skin seeming to have melted around each shaft. “Please tell me you know how we can save it.”

“Most certainly. I just was waiting for you to arrive so you could repair the arterial rupture when we remove the projectile. Do you feel up to performing the magic?”

She took a seat at Crono’s bedside, and attempted to summon the magic to her fingers. It came, but it felt sluggish.

“If he’s in no danger, I think we are better off waiting for a bit.”

The android nodded. “Let me know when you are ready.”

Crono then stirred on the cot, his blue eyes blinking open. When they landed on her, a smile bloomed across his face, and he held out a hand to her.

She felt herself blush, feeling undeserving of the warmth he offered. She took his hand anyway, but she couldn’t maintain his eye contact and quickly retreated to looking at her hands as if they were the most fascinating thing.

“Are you okay?” she asked him.

“Never better,” he bantered back with a cocky grin.

She dissolved into tears at his ridiculous pronouncement. “I’m sorry!” she managed, trying to wipe away the salty water from her face. “You’re the one who’s laying here injured – I should be able to hold it together.”

He squeezed her hand again. “I’m okay,” he insisted.

“You are alive and stable,” Robo corrected. “Your body has suffered significant injury that could potentially threaten its overall ability to function at optimal parameters.”

They both burst out laughing at that.

“Robo!” Crono complained, hissing in pain. “Please don’t make me laugh. It hurts!”

“It was not my intention for my statement to be humorous.”

“Of course not,” Crono conceded.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” Marle added with a small smile, finally meeting his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

She looked down again and the tears came again as Griffin’s dead eyes once again flashing through her head.

“Hey, hey,” he tried to reassure her, but he couldn’t move. “It’s okay now. It’s over.”

“It’s only beginning,” she countered, though without any heat.

“Do you want to go home? Forget this insane mission?”

She shook her head emphatically. “I will be fine,” she promised. “This was just… different. I have been in combat situations before.” Though most of them had involved sparring in a training environment. And in the future, they had faced a handful of robots. There had been few enough of them that she could count them all. The experience on a real battlefield had been awful. There were so many… the men around you dropping due to a hurled fireball or flying arrow, with no end to the number opposed to her team. The screams, the roar of clanging weapons, and smells pressing in all around her. Death had felt certain.

“And I will be again. I promise you I will be ready next time,” she concluded, offering him a watery smile, hoping that he didn’t think any less of her for her break downs. “Let’s take a look at your injuries,” she suggested.

He nodded, allowing the subject change. Robo moved forward again.

“Crono, we have to take the arrows out,” she informed him. “I can’t heal you, while they’re still there, and it’s going to hurt since removing them will reopen the wounds.”

He glanced up at her concerned glassy blue eyes.

“Crono?” she prompted at his continued silence.

He nodded in acknowledgement. “Make it fast,” he pleaded.

She moved forward before he could object, broke off the head, and pulled the arrow fletching back out the way it came fast. Robo echoing her movements at his shoulder.

His eyes rolled back in his head and he screamed. She channeled the gold energy into her hands, and watched as his whole body was enveloped in the warm grow, as the holes in both his leg and shoulder closed, and as the tension in his muscles relaxed until he released a restful sigh. His eyes opened again watching her ministrations, now focused and clear.

“Thanks Marle,” he whispered allowing his head to fall back to the cot. “I think that particular talent will come in handy.”

...

The Knight Captain Bridane glared at the man before him – a simple farmer who had been conscripted the last summer, and who had served on Sir Griffin’s squad because he knew the local terrain. The man with his arm in a sling, seemed hell bent on ruining his morning and his victory.

“You do realize that without their contribution we would not have survived this campaign,” the Captain bit out patiently.

The man shrugged with his uninjured shoulder.

“I’m not saying they didn’t help us any. Just that it ain’t right. We’d best be rid of them before we ourselves are cursed.”

“Master Crono and his companions are just as committed to this cause as you are soldier!” the Kinght Captain shouted, jumping to his feet and immediately regretting it when the twinge shot through his injured leg. Though, it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it ought to, mostly likely thanks to a certain someone’s blasphemous powers. “They are not going to be cursing any of us,” he added, forcing his voice back to some semblance of calm.

“Beggin’ your pardon captain, but I was more worried about the Gods themselves cursing us for making use of these unholy powers.”

Bridane wanted to strangle the superstitious buffoon, but he knew that the foot soldier was only a symptom of the problem. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to change the other man’s mind.

“I appreciate you bringing this to my attention soldier,” he barked. “You are dismissed.”

He watched the farmer stomp from his tent unhappily. He was certainly not alone in his feelings. Hell, the knight captain was certainly spooked himself. Magic had only ever been used by their enemies for as long as anyone could remember.

“Dustin?”

The squire from right outside the flap stamped inside with a single step and a turn, “Sir?”

“Can you bring Master Crono and his companions here?”

“Yes sir!” the sandy haired youth nodded stiffly, and darted away.

With the odd fellowship assembled before him, he could take some of the satisfaction of victory back. The fire-red haired swordsmen stepped to the furthest side of the tent with only a slight stiffness to his gait. He knew the boy had taken an arrow to his thigh and shoulder, and yet he had no limp or bandage. He shook his head in amazement.

Both girls were far more aware of their surroundings based on their attention and their barely suppressed cheer, which Marle expressed as a soft approving smile, whereas Lucca held a wide uncensored grin. The previous evening, they had both been an incoherent babbling heap. He knew their minds had been attacked, and he hadn’t been completely certain they were going to recover their mental faculties. He was relieved to find his worries unfounded.

And Sir Robo – the man in metallic armor that he never took off – took up the rear. Perhaps he was grossly disfigured and that was why the other knight never removed his protective coat, Bridane mused to himself.

“We owe you a debt of gratitude. You turned the tide of this battle. We would have been overrun without your tactical support. I’m quite amazed that any of us are walking away from this one.”

“Nah,” Marle said waving away his dismal alternate history. “You’d have burned the bridge and been court-martialed before you were overrun.”

He smiled. “It may still come to that,” he said seriously, his mirth dissipating into the night air like smoke. “The Mystics will be back and we don’t have the men or the resources to continue to repel them.”

“You’d be surprised how good humans are at holding out. And perhaps if we can defeat Magus, the tide will turn sooner than expected,” Marle encouraged.

“And where are you headed next in your personal mission against the Fiendlord?” he asked them. He was sad to see them and their unique and vital abilities go. Though apparently, he’d have an easier time handling some of his men, if they were to depart.

“We’re following the trail of the Hero’s Medal and the Legendary Masamune,” Crono explained.

Bridane wasn’t pleased with this news, but it made sense. They did have magic on their side if nothing else. “I won’t try to stop you, but you should know that our absolute finest have never returned from that particular quest.”

“Cyrus?” Lucca asked.”

“Aye, Sir Cyrus and his squire.”

“Squire? No one in my recollections has made any mention of his squire,” Robo commented.

“That’s because most don’t know of him. He was trained away from court by Sir Cyrus himself. He could best Sir Cyrus in one on one combat, an amazing feat if you ever saw Cyrus in action, though he was not a tactical genius the way Cyrus was. The two set out together to find the legendary blade, but they never returned. There have been rumors and whispers for years, but they never lead to anything substantial. I assume they both perished in their quest because they would have returned, had they been able. Their disappearance broke the Queen’s heart.”

“What was Sir Cyrus’s relationship with the queen?” Robo asked.

He arched an eyebrow at the question surprised that not everyone knew. “Sir Cyrus was her twin brother.”

The room fell into silence and the knight captain forced himself to break it rather than to get lost into his own thoughts.

“The rumors say you should head up into the Denadoro Mountains. Take what you need from the supply caravan. I suggest you make way with the next dawn before the Mystics can retaliate.”

Before his own men demanded he lynch the very souls that had saved them.

Chapter Text

The self dubbed adventurer took a huge gulp of the frothing amber liquid, swirled it around his mouth appreciatively, and swallowed the whole thing with a satisfied gasp. The ale always tasted best after a close call. And man, Toma had almost kicked the bucket this time, lost all his gear in the process, and didn’t even have the relic his sponsor had sent him after. He sighed. He’d probably have to find a new benefactor after such a total loss.

At least he had this drink, he thought as he lifted the tin mug up in a silent toast to the powers that be. It tasted amazing. Now, he just needed to find some sucker to pay for it before the barkeep realized the clothes on his back were the only assets he had to trade with at the moment.

He eyed the handful of other patrons in the somber quiet room, most had their heads down in their mugs or plates. Only whispered conversation passed between the lips of those huddled closely together.

The dusty traveler sighed. Living under Mystic occupation, only served to make humans more cautious and suspicious. There was not an easy mark for a con amongst them. He might just have to slink out of the tavern stealthily. This was a tactic he preferred to avoid so it would be easier to return when the need arose without having to repair the bad feelings of a jilted barkeep.

He took another swig of the ale. He would finish the drink at least, before he made his exit.

The bar’s swinging doors swept open, announcing the arrival of three grumbling teenagers accompanied by an old knight. His grey eyes landed on the familiar red headed swordsman who he remembered from Truce. The boy had an odd accent. The adventurer grinned.

“They took half of our rations,” the blonde girl complained, seraching through a bag slung over her shoulder. “Did you manage to save anything Lucca?”

“They didn’t get the gate-key, but I couldn’t convince them the money wasn’t worth anything even though it didn’t have the correct faces on it.”

“Ugh!” the dusty

“Don’t worry so much. We’ll figure it out,” the red head assured them. “Now, let’s get something to eat.”

The girl dubbed Lucca rolled her eyes. “Your optimism won’t protect us from the weather or replenish our supplies,” she bit back at him. “Damn Mystic Patrols.”

Toma chuckled. The fellowship must’ve had a run in with one of the roving bands of armed Mystics, barely more trained than common bandits. That the trio wasn’t accustomed to dealing with the patrol, told him they were not familiar with occupied living. He grinned, sipping his mug slowly, continuing to eavesdrop on the conversation, listening for an entry point.

Before he could interject himself into their interactions, the doors swung open again, as a group of Mystics swaggered in with loud stamps as if they ownded the place. Half the human patrons immediately stood and quickly departed. Not too quickly, as no one wanted to be caught up in the Mystics’ line of view. Smart of them. The Mystics don’t seem to notice, or perhaps they just didn’t care. Not all of ‘em were bad, but it seemed that most of the decent ones were assigned to the day patrols. The night patrols were a bunch of dicks. The barkeep looks grumpy at the arrival, but of course he couldn’t object.

            Lucca gets irritated all over again.

            Robo cites some stats about their situation.

            Toma imagining a new plan entirely.

            Patrol group settles in. Toma waits until they have been served.

            He stood up slowly, made a show of stumbling a bit and catching himself with the counter. Then sways through the room  like a drunken fool. Stumbles and falls onto one of the seated Mystics – the one with the loot.

            Snatched a few bags and slipped them under his shirt.

            Mystics surround him threateningly.

            Profuse inchorent slurred apologies.

            “Get off of me!” violent shove and he goes flying off in the other direction.

            Stayed still for a moment. Made a show of trying to shake his head clear.

            Two pretty girls are on either side of him – checking to see if he’s okay.

            He winks conspiratorily.

            “You’re not actually…” Lucca indignant.

            Marle places a hand on her arm, shakes her head.

            “He’s really hurt!” Marle announced loudly to her friends. “His head has taken a severe blow.”

            The mystics all start laughing at this.

            She scowls at them.

            Asks Crono/Robo for help in carrying him outside. “There’s got to be a healer in this town right?”

            Crono approaches and starts in surprise recognition. “You’re the…” refers to something in rewritten chapter two.

            “Good to see you kid.”

            “It appears this individual is not actually in need of aid,” Robo. “He in not actually drunk, and his wounds are superficial at best.”

“Robo!” Marle hissed. “Just shut up and help!”

They drag him outside. Toma glances over at the patrol, but they are no longer amused or paying attention to the odd fellowship. Returned to their own frat boy shennanigans.

            They turn a corner. “I think we’re good.” Then he tosses a stolen item back to Lucca with a wink. Someone whispering explanations of their subterfuge to Robo.

She beamed a pleased smile at him.

“So you sure do get around kid,” Toma observed, turning to Crono. “First Truce – now you’re passed the war zone in San Dorino? How’d you manage that?!”

“The mystics lost the battle for the bridge and have retreated further south. Passageway across Zenan is open.”

“How’d you get here if you didn’t know that?” Lucca.

“I have my ways,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mystery. Which mostly just added up to no one pays attention to a the lower eschelons of society. Thieves, homeless, drunkards, etc. They are pretty much all ignored by humans and mystics alike.

“So where are you headed?” he asked nodding towards the bags of equipment. Looked like Guardia’s official set with the seals removed.

Heading up into the Mystic Mountains looking for the sword of legend, Robo tells him.

“Quiet Robo!” the purple haired girl admonished, jerking her head towards the patrol.

Toma was disappointed by the answer, thinking that they might have been able to travel together for a ways.

“The mountains are treacherous – various wild beasts up there. Be sure to bring fire.”

Lucca smirked. “Fire won’t be a problem.”

 

…

 

Camping scene. Camaraderie.

“Now this is real camping,” Crono explains to Marle as they set up a tent.

Think FFXV! Maybe some hunting? With some gathering? Who’s going to cook? Perhaps Robo volunteers, and the others express shock. I thought you didn’t need to.

“I am equipped with some ridiculous number of recipes.”

Conversation to have over the fire!

Circle question – Some asks, someone else answers – sparks a philosophical conversation. “If you could go back in time to change something in your own personal timeline, would you?”

 

Something in your life that you regret?

“What about you Robo?”

“Regret is a human emotion that I am not capable of simulating.”

“But like, was there a mistake you made at some point that you would change?”

 

“My programming requires me to make the most logical decision based on current knowledge. A mistake would only be the result of not having enough information. And I would be unaware that it was a mistake. The man at the end of time, did say robots were capable of making mistakes.”

 

“What about if your programming led to two different conclusions? That contradicted each other?”

 

“Then I would weigh probabilities and go with whatever had  higher statistical benefit.”

 

“And in the result of a tie?”

“An exact tie, is so statistically unlikely as to pretty much not ever happen.”

 

“But if it did?”

“Let me run a simulation.” Pause as eyes glow and blink or whatever. My neural net would probably freeze and be incapable of any action. My system would probably need to be rebooted.

They go to sleep. Or look at stars.

…

 

Hiking upwards – it gets really cold. Putting on the extra layers that the Guardian army had provided.

Mist and fog covers, to the point where they can’t see well.

There’s a warning. “En garde? Prepare for battle? You deem yourself worthy?”

 

Phantom in the mist – Marle and Lucca both shoot it, but their pieces pass through the non corporeal shadowy creature. Crono warns them to stand back. Draws his sword.

 

Robo wants to know what they are shooting at. His sensors detect nothing.

 

Shadowy creature pulls his own blade. And Crono and the shadow fight – the creature’s blade seemed solid enough, even if the spirit itself could not be harmed.

Starting to get nervous – not sure how he’s going to survive, when the shadow suddenly stands down. Turns into a little wee thing. That looked up at him with a smile.

 

“Your training and preparation are adequate Crono Triggara. You have achieved mastery of the blade and are worthy to wield my power, however I have been separated from my brother and cannot serve you.”

“Who are you?” Marle

“What are you?” Lucca.

“My name is Mune. I am a dream child of the Guru of Life. I was bonded with the blade several millennia ago in order to absorb the magical energies of one who threatened this world.”

“Where can we find your brother?”

“I have no knowledge of Masa’s whearabouts. Cyrus’s young companion – the boy with the hero medal, took my brother from the field with him and left me here. Masa will be with him, if you can find him.”

 

Then the little alien looking creature faded away from their vision. Leaving behind a blade without a hilt.

 

Robo wants to know who they were talking to?

 

“It’s nice to know there are some things that we can detect, that you cannot,” Lucca grinned at him.

…

 

            A high-pitched scream pierced the air. The human trio froze for a split second, before bursting into motion toward the distress call, leaving the merrily dancing fire alone on the hilltop.

            A group of snarling ogres surrounded a sobbing dark haired boy who held a lantern up trying to fend off the wild beasts.

            Lucca summoned a line of fire around the boy. The ogres jerked back, in surprise. The line expanded outward and the flames intensified and the ogres ran off.

            Lucca brought the flames down to a low burn, but did not banish them completely. She didn’t want the ogres to feel like they were invited back.

            Marle approached the boy slowly.

            “It’s okay,” she assured. “You’re safe now.”

            The boy leapt forward and wrapped his arms around Marle’s waist, sobbing into her tunic.

            She just kept repeating the litany over and over until the boy’s cries dissipated.

            “There now, that’s better. Are you okay? Are you hurt?” she asked.

            He shook his head violently.

            “What are you doing up in these mountains all by yourself?” she asked gently.

            The boy held up a silver medal. All three of them gasped.

            “Is that the Hero’s Medal? Do you know Sir Cyrus?” Lucca asked urgently.

            The boy twisted so that Marle was inbetween Lucca and himself as he eyed her cautiously around the princess.

            “Slow down Lucca. We don’t want to frighten him,” Crono advised. Lucca held her tongue. She certainly didn’t want to frighten the child. He couldn’t have been more than ten. Who in their right mind would have sent him up in these mountains alone?

            “Can you tell me your name?” the princess asked, kneeling down in front of the youth.

            The boy nodded, “Tata.”

            “Tata?” Marle repeated. “That’s a wonderful name! Now, we need your help Tata. And I need you to be absolutely honest with us. Do you think you can do that?”

            The boy nodded again.

            “Is this the Hero’s Medal?” she repeated Lucca’s question.

            He nodded.

            “Did you know Sir Cyrus?”

            The boy starred at her for a long moment before shaking his head.

            “Who gave it to you then?”

            The boy burst into tears. And Marle took him into her arms again, rocking as he cried.

            “I only found it!” he wailed. “Some mystic just dropped it.”

            Lucca sighed. That probably meant that Cyrus and his squire had both indeed perished.

            “I thought it looked expensive and I was going to sell it, but then everyone started calling me hero!”

            “Shh… It’s okay,” Marle reassured. “What kind of mystic?” she asked gently.

            “I don’t know.”

            “A naga-ette? Gnasher? Gargoyle?” Marle listed off for him slowly. He shook his head.

            “I don’t know!” he insisted. “He was green! I thought he was a frog at first.”

            “A frog?” Lucca burst in. Tata jumped back again, startled. Lucca pressed her lips together and forced herself to wait. Marle would ask the appropriate questions and she had far more patience than the inventor.

            “Tata,” Marle brought his attention back to her, “where was this?”

            “At the tavern where my dad works.”

            “And where is that?”
            “Porre.”

            “We’re going to take you home Tata,” she reassured him. “You are safe now. You don’t have to be afraid.”

 

…

 

            Glenn hears intruders enter his dwelling and hides. When they enter he ambushes them in the dark. But then finds his blade at the neck of a beautiful blond. Leene! His stomach drops in shock. Then he breathes in again and realizes that it is not Leene when the moonlight catches her green eyes, but rather Master Crono’s friend.

            “Easy Frog. We would have knocked, but you’re missing a door,” Crono explained with his hands up.

            “Master Crono, Lady Lucca, mine apologies for the ambush. I hadst not anticipated guests,” he sheathed the sword.

            Introductions?

            “How didst thou discover my hideaway?”

            “A combination of a young boy named Tata, a barkeep who knows a bit of your habits, and Robo’s fancy sensors,” Crono explained clapping a hand on his strange metal companion’s shoulder.

            “Sensors?” the amphibian repeated.

            “We’re sorry to intrude,” Lucca interjected hastily, “We didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

            The frog nodded in acknowledgement. “To what do I owe the honor?”

            The trio glanced at each other uncertain. Give him the hero’s medal and show him the broken blade.

            The frog gripped his sword hilt hard to maintain his composure.

            “Frog? Are you alright?” Lucca asked. The frog forced himself to nod. He tore his eyes away from the offending relics and turned his attention to the purple haired lass.

            “The Mystic Warlord can defend against the iron and bronze weapons of man. He posesses some kind of arcane protection. Only the Masamune can cut through it. And no one has the magic to be able to reforge her anymore,” he explained tightly.

            “Except maybe the mystics,” Marle countered.

            “No lass… Even they no longer have this ability,” Frog said. Not that they would be motivated to help, even if they could.

            “There has to be another way then! No one is invincible,” Marle insisted.

            Glenn retrieved a long green box from under the pallet he used as a bed and tossed it to the princess. She opened it to reveal the hilt of the Masamune.

            “How did you get this?” she asked in wonder handing it to Crono.

            “Thou hast no idea of how many have gone up against the Fiendlord,” he began angrily, ignoring her question. “How many have been cut down by the demon king’s scythe. Sir Cyrus was the best knight this kingdom has witnessed in generations. And the Fiendlord cut the Masamune and him to pieces as if he was nothing. Nay, the best thing Guardia canst do now, is surrender and limit the casualties.”

            The girl turned to her friends. “Would you leave us for a moment?”

            Crono nodded and picked up the broken hilt of the Masamune before he gestured for Lucca and the metallic creature to follow him. All three ascended the ladder and Marle waited patiently until they were out of sight.

            “Frog,” she implored. “Guardia is the greatest and most prosperous kingdom on this earth. A place where anyone can find opportunity and justice. (Elaborate). I know it looks bleak right now, but we are going to win this war.”

            “The place thou speaks of, doth not exist. Nor hath it ever.”

            “Maybe not yet! But it could! I have seen what Guardia can become! But it will never get there if we lose this war.”

            “And in order for us to win this war we have to defeat Magus, the Mystic King. From what Crono and Lucca tell me, you are the best chance of that happening. You can’t give up!” she insisted.

            He peered into the lovely girl’s face, Leene’s face. It was hard not to be compelled. The frog sighed, his anger gone. He envied her faith and hope in the future. He could not share it though. She had mistaken him for a hero. She was too innocent to see the truth. And too young to understand his pain.

            “I appreciate what thee art trying to do lass, but I cannot help thee. A hero, I am not. Guardia and the Mystics have already taken from me all that I have in mine capacity to give.”

 

*          *          *

 

            “What could they possibly be talking about?” Crono asked.

            “Would you relax? Please? You’ve nothing to be worried about,” Lucca assured him, suppressing her annoyance. He was less fun when he was obsessing over Marle.

            “How can you be so sure?”
            “Crono! You’re jealous of a frog!”

            “But he comes complete with a terribly tragic tale just screaming that he needs some healing.”

            “And you don’t?”

            “I like to think that I don’t need healing!” he objected, his voice surly.

            Lucca laughed. “Right! You have no issues to work out at all…”

            “Lucca,” he said warningly.

            “Seriously though, you have nothing to be worried about. I’m fairly certain our princess is just trying to rally the troops.”

            Crono paced anxiously before he reports that he’s going for a walk. Takes the hilt with him.

            Marle eventually comes out and explains that she had no luck.

            “Lucca…” Marle began nervously.

            “Oh no you don’t! I don’t want to hear you obsessing over Crono,” she then retreated back inside Frog’s secret den.

            “What was that about?” Marle asked.

            “I believe that Lucca is frustrated because she just calmed Crono down from obsessing over you?”

            “Crono was obsessing over me?” the blond asked gleefully.
            Lucca was grateful she couldn’t hear the android’s response.

            “Frog, please tell me that not everyone in love is so completely idiotic!” she ranted.

            “I cannot,” the amphibian croaked sadly, “I fear that I would be guilty of deceit.”

            Lucca sighed, “I’m sorry to disturb you further. I’m just so sick of hanging around those two. They just need to admit their feelings – get everything out into the open!”

            “Tis not so simple for those in love. They fear rejection so they cannot trust the signals that their partner shares their interest,” he said softly.

            There was something about the way he said it that gave her pause.

            “You’re speaking from experience,” she said.

            He shook his head, “Nay, the one I love never knew of mine affections. Now, she believes that I hath perished. ‘Tis for the best.”

            “I’m sorry,” Lucca apologized, mortified that she had brought up more painful memories for the amphibian. She wondered once again how he came to be this way, but she could not ask him now. But maybe she could…

            “Frog,” she began.

            “I cannot help thee,” he interrupted.

            The inventor clamped down on her lips. This was clearly not the best time to ask anything.

 

*          *          *

 

            Crono tossed the hilt up into the air casually. He caught it easily on its descent back to the earth before throwing it upward again. Lucca was probably right. She usually was. Expand on his musings. He caught the hilt and realized the golden object had started glowing.

            A scream interrupted his musings. Crono jerked his head up, the strange sword fragment in his hands forgotten. An eerie fog had settled around him.

            Then the scream occurred again. The voice terrifyingly familiar.

            “Lucca?” he called. As he made his way toward the sound another shriek stopped him in his tracks.

            “Mom!”

            They were in danger. He tried to go to them, but he was lost in the oppressive moist blanket. He could not see more than a metra in front of his own face.

            Need some kind of resolution to this.

            Relive the moment of his family’s death.

            He decides he wouldn’t hide there afraid in the corner. He couldn’t do this again. He had to act.

            Leaps up to defend his sister. Stand before their attacker.

            And the vision fades.

           

            The fog vanished and Crono found himself back in the forest. He turned in every direction confused and disoriented. Covered in a nervous sheen of sweat.

            “There is no threat,” a strange voice assured him. Crono’s attention turned to the strange alien creature that stood not more than two feet tall in front of him. “If you wish to wield the power of the blade, your spirit had to be tested.”

            “Crono, you have overcome many personal tragedies, and yet, you have maintained a purity of spirit.”

            “What?” Crono asked in a daze.

            “Your skill with the blade has already been assessed. I see the mark that Mune has placed within you so I had to test your strength of spirit.”

            “By making me hear my friends and family be tortured?” Crono demanded angrily.

            “Your greatest fear is that you will find yourself helpless to come to your loved one’s aid. That is what you had to face.”

            “Are you saying I’m over the fear?” he asked in disbelief.

            “No, the fear is very much still a part of you. What makes your spirit strong is that you are not paralyzed by it. And your spirit is pure in that you very much desire to help others. In fact, you fear that you cannot do enough.”

            “So I passed?” Crono asked forcing himself to take a calming breath.

            “You have faced your fear and are worthy to wield my power, but the blade is broken and I am separated from my brother and unable to serve you.”

            “Mune is your brother?”

            “Aye.”

            “Is there a way to reunite the two of you?” Crono asked.

            “Reforge the blade,” Masa said simply.

            Crono snorted. “I’ve been told that’s impossible.”

            “When has that ever stopped you?” Masa challenged. The strange creature seemed to dissolve into light that jumped back into the hilt through a glowing glyph. The glow faded, but the glyph remained.

            Crono stared at the symbol in shock. He pulled out his own katana from its sheath and compared the glyph on his own hilt.

            They were identical… But… that would mean…

            He ran back to the den.

            “Lucca! Marle!” he shouted not able to contain his excitement.

            “Crono!” Lucca took in his disheveled appearance. “Are you alright? What happened?”

            Crono waved away her concern. “I’m fine! I think I know who can fix this blade!”

            “What? I thought it was created in ancient times.”

            “Take a look at this,” and he shows them the two comparisons.

            “Melchior!” Marle exclaimed.

            “Exactly.”

            “That makes no sense Crono,” Lucca argued. “The Masamune was forged long before Melchior could have been born.”

            “Well, maybe he could tell us what the symbol means at least and then we’d know what time period we’d have to go back to.”

 

Robo detects a new gate to go to end of time and back to Medina.

 

            “You’re going to make a habit of this aren’t you?” Edward the imp.

            Marle eagerly asking about news of Guardia.

            Lucille has very limited information to give. Civil unrest but the king is alive and she knows nothing of the resistance.

            “Why are you back?”

            “We need to see Melchior again.”

            “Just don’t expect me to smuggle you out of the country again,” Edward grumbled.

            “Shouldn’t be necessary. We were planning on leaving the same way we arrived,” Crono said grinning.

            Edward did not seem mollified by this.

            They depart.

            “Don’t head into town!” Lucille warned.

            “No worries! We learned our lesson!”

 

            The old blacksmith stared at the broken blade for a long moment.

            “This is the Masamune,” he said in awe.

            “Yes,” Crono confirmed with a grin. “Thought you would appreciate it!”

            “How did you get it?” he asked, turning the hilt over in his hand reverantly.

            “That’s difficult to…” Marle began hesitantly.

            “…It’s a long story,” Lucca interrupted.

            “Can you tell us what the glyph means?” Crono asked.

            “It’s… difficult to translate.”

            “Try,” Lucca demanded impatiently.

            “The symbol is meant to impart the essence of… life into the blade,” the old man explained.

            “You don’t seriously believe that superstitious nonsense?!” Lucca asked.

            “Life?” Marle repeated. “But a blade is meant to kill.

            “Is it? Or perhaps, protect?” he suggested with a smile.

            The blond girl blushed.

            “As for the superstitions,” he continued. “You are holding both halves of that sword quite calmly, which means that you’ve already been tested. Now tell me dear Lucca, what would you call that – if not life?”

            She mutters about how the world used to make sense. And now it simply refuses to cooperate.

            “So adding this symbol to the heated blade is enough to give the blade spirit?” Crono asked, eying his own katana suspiciously.

            The blacksmith shrugged, stroking his mustache.

            Crono eyed him skeptically, certain the old man knew more than he was letting on.

            “Can you repair it?” Robo asked.

            The old man shook his head sadly. “The materials needed for such a task have long since vanished.”

            “If we could get you the materials, could you fix it?”

            “Perhaps, but the blade is made of dreamstone. I wouldn’t even need much of it, but the element has not been found since the Dark Ages. Some historians believe it never existed at all.”

            “The Masamune’s presence would suggest otherwise,” Robo commented.

            “Many historians maintain the Masamune itself was an ordinary blade held by an extraordinary man.”

            “Well, that’s not true,” Crono said under his breadth. There was nothing ordinary about a blade that could make you face your worst fears or throw the very wind at you.

            “No, it is not,” Melchior agreed. “I merely want you to understand how impossible it would be to find the necessary sample of dreamstone.”

            “Just as impossible as procuring the sword I imagine,” Lucca commented dryly.

            “Why can’t you just shorten the blade – use what dreamstone is already there?” Marle asked.

            “I could if it was an ordinary blade. But it is not. I cannot mend it without harming Masa or Mune. Nevermind that they are both sentient spirits that I would not want to harm, if harm becomes them the sword will lose its rather unique properties. And if you could do with an ordinary weapon, I have a large selection that you might choose from.”

            “Sir?” Crono asked. “How is it that you know so much about the Masamune?”

            “I am a blacksmith Crono. Swords and their accompanying legends are my business.”

            Crono supposed that made sense.

 

            Melchior watched the strange quartet leave. Could it be possible that they could procure the necessary dreamstone? Melchior could not fathom how, but he couldn’t fathom how they had come to possess the sword fragments either. They could also use elemental magic during a time when such magic was long ago extinct.

            “You can come out now if you like,” he commented to the fragments using just a fraction of power so the dream twins could hear him.

            “Tell me your story.”

 

Prehistoria                                                                                      Circa 65,000,000 B.C.

Write scene from Ayla’s perspective. She is in the bushes watching the Reptite patrol. When the crew just appears in the air high above the cliff. She watches them fall and land on the ground in a heap. The Reptites immediately attack and she dives forward to attack them. Manages to chase them off.

 

Comes back to the double duo that has disentangled itself. Pokes and prods curiously. She is easily spooked. Recognizes them deferring to Crono so she focuses on him. Growls and shoves herself in his face, but he only blinks at her. She is shocked at his lack of fear – at his strength. But he didn’t challenge her for dominance either. This confused her.

 

Refers to crew as Sky People because they appeared in the Sky. Then she goes to Zeal, which compounds this perception.

 

            The strangers babbled at her. And she cocked her head at them. They kept saying the same phrase.

            “Rrrreeeeed rrrooock,” Ayla repeated slowly.

            The blond fragile looking girl clapped her hands excitedly. Ayla turned toward the girl startled at the unexpected sound.

            “Red,” the girl said pointing to the man’s head. Ayla picked through his hair looking for insects, but there were none to be found.

            The man pushed her away roughly. The girls laughed.

            “Red,” the helmeted girl repeated pointing to the end of an unnaturally straight stick.” (It’s a screwdriver). Ayla took the object into her hand and examined it. She tried to break it, but the metal did not even bend. She grinned wolfishly in delight and began tearing a hole in the cliffside.

            “Hey!” the girl objected snatching the weapon back. Ayla frowned.

            “Red,” the other girl said again pointing to her own belt. And then Ayla understood. They were referring not to an object, but to a color. The color of the dawn, the color of fire, and the color of blood.

            “Rrrred,” she repeated happily pointing to a fresh cut on her own hand. “Rrred,” pointing to something else. “Rrred,”

            The man grabbed her hand. And handed her a pebble from the ground. “Rock,” he said. And he gestured to the other natural debris that littered the pathway. “Rocks.”

            “Red rock?” he asked.

            Ayla dropped the worthless pebble in understanding and gestured for the Sky People to follow her.

            The Sky People came in search of the firestone.

            Tearing through the underbrush, delighted when they almost seemed to be able to keep up unlike the sluggish reptites.

 

Put in Kino’s perspective

            “Ayla want feast tonight!” she directed. Kino looked up, surprised by the excitement in his chief’s voice. “For Sky People,” she said indicating her strange guests.

            “Sky People?” Kino repeated confused.

 

Crono ate readily.

Marle was more hesitant. “What is it?”

“No idea,” Crono admitted through a mouthful. “But it’s good! Just a bit chewy.”

“Analysis suggests that it is some kind of reptile,” Robo reported.
She dubiously tries it. Finds it bitter and rubbery. Spits it out and sticks to the tropical fruit.

 

Robo is surrounded by tribesmen poking curiously at him.

At some point Robo releases a laser light show and they all jump back extremely frightened and startled.

Ayla laughs at their reactions.

 

Marle drags Crono to the fire and dance floor. They dance for a bit.

            “Hey,” he whispered in her ear. “Do you want to get out of here?”

            She pulled away revealing her flushed face. Her sparkling emerald eyes met his own. She nodded.

            “Yeah, let’s go.”

            He took her by the hand and they moved away from the bonfire.

 

Villagers share drink with Lucca.

She gasps and coughs at first – the villagers all laugh.

Drunk Lucca – two seconds behind. She’s never been drunk before? Hey, where was Crono?

 

            Lying down together on the ground looking at the stars.

            “You can see so many stars here. And the night is so warm.”

            “Look!” Marle exclaimed, “A shooting star.” A dazzling orange fireball streaked across the sky. The afterimage took a full second to fade away.

            “Did you make a wish?” Crono asked, turning toward her.

            She nodded excitedly.

            “What did you wish for?”

            “I can’t tell you that,” she replied seriously. “Then it might not come true.”

            Even in the starlight he could see her flushed cheeks. Crono looked at her straight in the eyes to see the starlight reflected there. His own heart was suddenly making a good effort to leap out of his chest. She was only inches away. Without thinking he leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Her lips met his own, warm and soft. The kiss quickly deepened. He pulled her closer, her body pressed against his own. Her hands, draped around his neck, quickly became tangled in his hair.

            “Crono?” she whispered when they broke apart gasping.

            “Yeah?”

            “My wish… it came true.”

            He smiled and kissed her again.

            “Crono? Marle?” a voice called. “Where are you?”

            Crono reluctantly let Marle pull away. But when he looked at her, she was smiling brightly, their shared secret written all over her face.

            “We’re over here Lucca,” Crono called to his so-called meddling best friend. “We were just looking at the stars.” Marle’s hand was gripped firmly in his own.

            “Oh good! I was worried when the two of you vanished,” she said slowly – then paused. “What’s so special about the stars?”

            “You can see them.” Crono explained patiently.

            “We saw a shooting star a moment ago! The brightest one I’ve ever seen!” Marle exclaimed.

            “Huh,” Lucca said noncommittally. Her face scrunched up in concentration as she stared up into the heavens. Crono had a sinking suspicion that Lucca was unable to bring any of the stars into focus.

            “You’re drunk,” he accused.

            “Am not!” Lucca replied two seconds too late to be convincing, her voice surly.

            Marle and Crono both laughed.

            “Stop it!” the inventor whined. “I’m not drunk,” she insisted.

            “If you say so,” Crono said in good humor.

            “Ayla is looking for you,” she informed him.

            “She is?” Crono asked. “Why didn’t you say so?”

            “I didn’t remember ‘til now,” Lucca said.

            “And you say you’re not drunk,” Crono teased, rising to his feet. He pulled Marle up with him.

            “I’m not!”

            “Yeah, whatever. You should still come with us. I wouldn’t want you to trip over a boulder and not have us find you until dawn.”

            “You can try some poi!” Lucca stated flamboyantly. “Its amazing!”

            “Is that what you’ve been drinking all night?”

 

            Ayla held out a melon sized black rock. Crono was puzzled for a moment, but then he saw the red veins running through it like lava flowing down a mountainside. “Rrreeeeed… rrrrrock,” she said slowly as she held it out to him.

            “Yes!” Crono said excitedly reaching for it. She pulled it back with a growl.

            Crono pulled his hand back, startled.

            Her face fell, completely crestfallen.

            “Crono, I think she wants you to challenge her,” Marle whispered.

            Crono growled and puffed up his own chest.

            Ayla struck him hard across his jaw. He fell to the ground.

            “Crono!” Marle screamed anxiously as she ran to his side. He waved her away as he forced himself back to his feet. Suddenly angry, this time with a sincere growl, Crono leapt to his feet and shoved the pre-historic woman backwards. Ayla grinned wolfishly. She barked out some orders to her tribe.

            Two places were prepared on opposite sides of a primitive rock table. The red rock was placed between them. And then two bowls of poi were placed before them.

            A man held a string and a torch. He lit the string. And Ayla began drinking her soup. This was a race Crono realized and hurriedly began gulping down the liquid. He nearly choked and immediately started coughing. The men around him laughed. It wasn’t soup at all! This is what Lucca had been drinking all night. He began gulping it down again, more prepared for the burning sensation.

            He lost. Ayla pulled the stone towards her to the cheers of her tribesmen. Crono placed his hand atop hers and pulled it back to the center. He then gestured to the two bowls.

            “How about two out of three?”

            She didn’t understand his words, but she understood he wanted a rematch. This seemed to please her. She barked out orders, the bowls were refilled and another string was lit. And the race recommenced.

            He lost again when Marled cautioned that maybe this wasn’t the best idea, but what little good sense Crono ever had was now gone, burned away by too much poi.

            Eventually Ayla passes out or refuses to do another round and pushes the rock toward Crono who’s completely drunk at this point.

            The world was swirling.

            “Marle?” he asked.

            “Yes Crono?”

            “I don’ suppozz therez any way you… could heal me? The world iz spinning.”

            “No, I don’t think so.”

            “Tha’z too bad,” he said, his head hanging low and then he collapsed on the table.

 

Crono wakes up to screaming. At first he thinks its in his nightmares, but then realizes there’s too many of them. Tries to make sense of the world around him, but his head felt swollen and thick and his eyes struggled to bring anything into focus. Eventually can see the reptilian creatures wrecking havoc in the festivities. Taking food and supplies and people as well. There is some organized resistance, but overall the tribe is slow to react as so many of them wake up with hangovers.

            Ayla is up, clutching her head, and barking orders just the same.

            Robo is of great use – taking out bands of reptites at a time.

 

            Many things are taken, including the gate key. It is a raid afterall. Gang helps Ayla chase the reptites and retrieve many of the stolen items.

 

            “She’s crazy!” Marle exclaimed.

            “I kind of like her,” Crono grinned watching the prehistoric woman do something ridiculous.

            “Yeah, that’s because she makes you look cautious,” Lucca said dryly.

 

They can’t find the gate key. Faced with the possibility that they might be trapped in this time.

            “Of all the time periods to be stranded in…” Lucca grumbled.

            “Hey, maybe you and Robo can bring about a new age of science and technology,” Crono said poking her in the side.

            “This is not funny,” she said glaring at him.

 

            Then it turns out Kino had it all along. He had been upset at Ayla’s preferential treatment of the newcomers, when he learns that the item would allow them to leave he suddenly admits that he had it. Ayla = pissed.

 

Having to jump off a cliff to activate the gate.

            “Robo explains the theory.”

            “Lucca worries about conservation of momentum.” Trepidatious about stepping off the cliff.

            “Robo says they only have to fall a meter, before the gate will open, so even if they crash to the ground on the other side, it is not enough to maintain severe injury. Just be ready to roll upon landing,” the android instructs.

            “Lucca sarcastic complaint”

            “Your other option is to remain here.”

            “Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” she mumbled. And allowed herself to fall backwards. If the android was wrong about being able to activate the gate while in motion, she would dismantle him herself.

 

The Masamune                                                                                         Circa 1000 A.D.

Take the sword to Melchior to fix. Melchior has something of an emotional spasm as he encounters the sword and dreamstone. Filled with so many regrets.

            “How is this possible?” He asked softly, barely daring to breathe.

            Lucca had her mouth open as if to explain, but her tongue formed no words. Her companions were looking to her. “Ah… well, it’s…” she began.

            “No,” he held up a hand to forestall her explanation. “Don’t tell me. I don’t think my heart can take it.”

            “Master Melchior,” Marle began soothingly.

            “Let’s set up downstairs, shall we?” he interrupted with a warm smile. Melchior suspected these young people were going to need all the aid available to them.

            Has Lucca clarify the dreamstone.

            And Robo pound out the sword when it is heated on the forge. Lucca maintains the fire.

            “Won’t that hurt Masa and Mune?” Marle objected.

            The blacksmith laughed. “No, Masa and Mune are spirits, they do not have bodies.”

            “Sure looked like they did!” Crono commented under his breadth.

            Teaches Marle the magic technique for infusing Masa and Mune.

            “You can use magic?” the blacksmith asked.

            Shocked silence.

            “How did you know?”
            “Well, there was quite a commotion in town about magic using humans when first you came to visit,” Melchior explained with a smile. “And there are not so many humans in this part of the world that it was likely to be someone else in so short a time.”

            “Plus, I can sense it. And I believe Lucca has been using her abilities to keep the forge hot.”

            The inventor blushed.

            “But I think you, my dear, would be more apt for this task – you are a healer yes?”

            She nodded and bowed her head. “How do you know that?”
            “Have you ever seen an aura?”

            She glanced over to Crono and nodded.

            “That makes you luckier than I. I have been told by some of my former students that they make quite the spectacle. But anyway, I’m rambling. I can’t see them, but I have techniques that allow me to sense or feel them. And you, you’re as cool as the ocean herself. Shadow would be colder. And light warm and fire piping hot.”

            “Those with an affinity to water make the best healers. And the healing takes precise control of technique – not a lot of power. The magic I am about to teach you is similar.”

            “You can use magic as well?” Lucca questioned.

            The blacksmith nodded, seeing no reason to deny it amongst fellow mages.

            “How did you learn?” the fire girl demanded suspiciously.

            “Lucca!” Marle scolded.

            Melchior studied the inventor carefully. “I might ask you the same question Lucca,” he said calmly.

            The girl scowled. “Fine,” she agreed coldly. “You keep your secrets and we’ll keep ours.”

            “You are also a healer?” Marle asked gently.

            “I have learned some healing, yes. But my affinity is to light,” the blacksmith admitted.

 

Take it back to Frog.

            He is shocked at the presence of the blade. For so long he had thought the other half lost and when they had shown it to him he had thought no swordsmith could hope to repair it.

            “How?” was all he managed to say.

            “We obtained a sample…” the mechanical being began.

            “Not now, Robo!” Lucca interrupted.

            Marle simply pinned the hero’s medal onto his cloak without words. He stared at it. Then at her. And emotions came flooding to the surface. He shook his head, ripped the offending relic off his shoulder, and stepped away from these strange compelling people. He couldn’t face the warlock. Not again.

            “I canst not do it.”

            “Frog! You have to! No one else can!” Marle begged. In that moment his mind recognized her as Leene and he couldn’t face her. Not like this, Not in this form.

            There is no one else, the mental voice he recognized as Cyrus echoed through his amphibious skull.

            “Please!” he begged, his voice cracking as small webbed fingers clutched at his head. “Speak of it no more.”

            Then silence reigned. He could see these strange compelling spirited fighters searching for something, anything to say. And there was no anger or accusation in their eyes. Only concern. He turned away, unable to bear their understanding compassion. He most certainly did not deserve it.

            “Thou may take shelter here tonight. Tomorrow thou art to take thy leave,” he said distantly, not turning back to his guests. He climbed the familiar ladder and headed out into the darkness, knowing only that he had to get away.

 

            “Poor frog!” Marle said. “I wonder what happened.”

            “He appears to be suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome,” Robo commented.

            “What’s that?”

            “Robo explains that when you experience something so violent or earth shattering and that the event haunts you. If left untreated it often leads to irritability or anger, memory problems, self destructive habits, difficulty concentrating, feelings of hopelessness, difficulty in maintaining close relationships, overwhelming guilt or shame, and hallucinations. (List comes from mayoclinic.com).

            “Crono wonders what would have happened to him had Chiva never taken him under his wing.”

            “I’ve never seen a Mystic quite like him,” Marle commented.

            “He’s not a Mystic,” Lucca insisted heatedly.

            Everyone froze surprised by the passion in her voice.

            “How do you know?” Marle asked.

            “He’s not one of the identified and classifed Mystic species,” Robo agreed.

            “He said he was cursed,” Lucca said softly.

            “You think he used to be human?” Crono asked.

            Lucca nodded, “I think he used to be Cyrus’ squire. He knew what had happened to Cyrus. Everyone else thinks he could maybe still be alive.”

            “But Cyrus has been gone for ten years…” Marle said sadly. “That would mean…

            “That he’s been a frog and been alone for all that time,” Lucca filled in.

            Dinner was strained and silent after that. Crono, Marle, and Lucca end up in the corner for awhile.

            Lucca picks up the broadsword, “Do you think you could wield it Crono?”

            He takes it from her and handles it.

            “I can try but I’ll probably wind up dead. It’s a blade for a completely different style. I’m more about speed. This is a broadsword and it’s heavy.”

            Soon Marle falls asleep against Crono’s shoulder. Lucca sighs. Has a hard time falling asleep.

 

            The frog had no idea how he had made it through the forest back to the correct glen, but the shrub was the right one.

            The ladder, however, proved to be more than he could handle. He misstepped and tumbled into a heap. He didn’t bother to move. There was little reason to.

            “Are you alright?” someone asked him. A girl. She helped him to his feet.

            He blinked at her, trying to place who she was and why she was in his home.

            “Lucca,” he said finally, swaying slightly on his feet. Lucca held her hand out, ready to steady him if he started to stumble.

            “Yes. Maybe you should sit down,” she suggested.

            He nodded. She helped him get propped up against the wall and then sat down next to him. They just sat. Frog said nothing and he was grateful Lucca didn’t press him. He just rolled the bottle back and forth on the floor.

            “Mind if I have some?” Lucca asked eventually, gesturing to the bottle. He handed it to her. She opened it, took a swig, and handed it back to him. He took a drink without thinking.

            “The one you love? It’s Leene isn’t it?” she asked.

            “How didst thou guess? Am I so transparent?”

            “No, not really. It’s the way you look at Marle, as if you’re startled. Like you freeze for a second and then all of the sudden you shake yourself out of it. Because you realize that she’s not the person you’re thinking of.”

            “Her resemblance to the queen is quite eerie,” the frog agreed taking another gulp from the bottle.

            “Yeah, there’s a reason for that. They’re related.”

            Long pause then reaction.

            “What?! Leene doth not have any sisters and Marle is too old to be Leene’s daughter.”

            “Yeah, more like great great great granddaughter. We’re from the future. Marle’s the crowned princess in the year 1000 A.D. Her real name is Nadia. I don’t know where the name Marle came from.”

            “What?!”

            “Yeah, at first I thought we should keep it a secret. But now, I figure that most no one will believe us.”

            The frog blinked at this strange girl, uncertain as to whether he believed her.

            “How doth this mode of transportation work?”

            “There are gates everywhere – and you go in on one side and you end up in the same place, but in a different time.”

            “But then how come people haven’t accidentally gone through these gates before?”

            “You have to have a key to open it,” And she pulled out a contraption. He stared at it.

            “And there are many time travelers in the future?”

            “Doesn’t seem like it. We kind of discovered it by accident,” she explained. The frog attempted to make sense of this information, but his head remained fuzzy.

            “Did you know the queen before?” she asked after a moment.

            “We grew up together. Her family adopted me after the death of mine parents.”

            “What happened?”

            “A fire. I managed to get out, but my parents did not.”

            “How old were you?”

            “Eight.”

            “And then you went to live with Leene?”

            “And her brother Cyrus.”

            “The Cyrus? The hero everyone keeps hoping will show up?”

            The frog nodded solemnly. Oh Cyrus, I’m so sorry.

            “So they adopted you,” Lucca prompted. The frog nodded again.

            “The first week I was there Leene found me crying in a corner. She was so kind and understanding – I thought… I thought she was an angel.”

            Lucca laughed. “Oh, so this is like the life long obsessive crush kind of thing.” She took a swig.

            “I suppose that thou couldst say that,” the frog said mournfully.

            “She thought of you as a brother, didn’t she?”

            The frog nodded as he took a drink. Lucca groaned.

            “I’m sorry. That’s the worst! Did you ever manage to tell her?”

            “Almost – once, but someone else got there first.”

            “The king?”

            “He was the crowned prince at the time.”

            “I bet you could kick his ass.”

            “I have already done so,” he said sadly.

            “Now that’s a sparing session I would pay to see.”

            Frog squeezed his eyes closed at the painful memory. The day he realized exactly what kind of man he was.

            “No, I am certain thou wouldst prefer to see a match between equals. ‘Tis far more interesting.”

            “Like you… and Magus?” she suggested far too mildly.

            “’Tis the question, is it not?”

            “Do you want to defeat him?”

            “More than anything else on this earth.”

            “So why don’t you?”
            “I am a coward. Everyone expected me to be a hero, but I am not.”

            “That makes two of us. You see those two?” she pointed to Crono and Marle sprawled on the floor asleep. “They’re the heroic types. I’m the idiot that follows them around because I know I won’t have any friends if I don’t.”

            “Why doth thou wish me to fight?”

            “We want to defeat Magus as well.”

            “Why?”
            “We’re trying to save the future. It gets destroyed in 1999 by some kind of parasite that lives in the earth. It’s called Lavos and it was created by Magus.”

            “Lavos?”

            “Ever heard of it?”

            “The Mystics say that when Lavos arrives it will be the end of humanity.”

            “Yeah, that’s pretty accurate. Of course, it’ll be the end of the Mystics too.”

            “And the fiendlord created this monstrosity?”

            “That’s what the history books say.”

            “He is beyond evil.”

            “So you’ll help us then?”

            “I am not certain that I am able. I hath changed so much.”

            “But you’ll think about it?”

            “I can promise thee that much, Lady Lucca.”

            “Thanks uh… Frog? Do you have a name? I’m assuming you didn’t resemble a tad pole when you were born.”

            The frog turned suspicious eyes toward the girl. He realized he had already told her a lot – more than he had ever told anyone with the notable exception of Cyrus. How had she gotten him to let his guard down? He realized that he was holding the bottle of ale.

            “Why hast thou been interrogating mine self?” he demanded leaping to his feet.

            “Interrogating?” her eyes widened in dismay.

            “Thee distract me with fantasy and drink, to scourge mine mind for information.”

            “Frog, I was not trying to trick you. The drink was yours. You seemed like you were in pain. I thought if we shared the drink maybe you could share the pain. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. You certainly don’t have to tell me your name. It just seems strange now to call you Frog.”

            The frog pondered over Lucca’s words. The girl did not seem devious at all. In fact, she seemed very genuine. He had already trusted her with so many details – what was one more?

            “Mine name, ’tis Glenn.”

            “Nice to know you Glenn,” taking his gloved hand in a handshake.

            “’Twould be most appreciated if thou didst not reveal mine name to thy companions.”

            “I won’t if you don’t want me to. But I think they are your companions just as much as they are mine. Why are you so secretive?”

            “’Tis a long story.”

            “You have any more ale?” she tipped over the bottle showing him that it was empty.

 

Inner Demons Circa 582 A.D.

The boy sat curled upon the floor with his back to the wall. The only light streamed from underneath the door. He did not make a sound as he was straining to catch every word from the other side of the wooden barrier.

            “He’s too sensitive. He will never be knighted,” the man said. The boy knew they were talking about him.

            “He’s just a child Silas. He is going to cry sometimes,” the woman responded.

            “Sometimes? When is the boy not crying?” was the gruff response.

            “Silas…”

            “I am being serious Lydia. He cannot even tolerate verbal criticism, let alone the slightest physical confrontation. I almost wish he would get angry. At least that would show he has spirit. But he doesn’t. He just snivels and sobs. How can I be expected to train him?”

            “Perhaps Glenn is ill suited to becoming a knight.”

            “Every male in this family has achieved knighthood going back six generations. My son will not be the one to break that tradition!” the man exclaimed. The boy bit down on his long sleeve trying to stifle his sobs.

            “Stop thinking of yourself Silas! Think of your son! Think of what is best for him!” the woman shouted back.

            “Do not tell me what is best for my son!”

            “There is more to life than family honor!” The woman screamed. A loud crack cut through the air. Then there was silence. The young boy whimpered softly on the cold floor. The flickering lantern light flooded onto him as the door opened.

            “Glenn? Hush darling,” his mother reached down and pulled him up. The boy looked up at her just long enough to see her unnaturally red cheek and tear filled eyes. He threw his arms around her, buried his face into her bosom, and cried harder than he could ever remember. In her arms, the boy felt safe.

            It lasted only an instant. The man who was his father tore his mother away violently. “Don’t coddle him woman!” His father grabbed his shirt and forced him to his feet. The boy tried to fall back down to the ground to get farther away from the man who was his father. It was no use – the tall man had him firm in his grip. He couldn’t even run away.

            “Look at me boy!” the man who was his father shouted. Glenn sobbed harder.

            “Look at me!”

            But Glenn could not do it. He could not face this man who was his father.

            Large hands cupped his head and forced him to look up. He could only see his father’s eyes. Grey eyes of cold fire. Glenn could feel them searing through him. He knew he should not cry – that the tears would only anger his father further, but he could not restrain the watery droplets. His father released him, but had him just as trapped with his harsh gaze. Glenn squeezed his eyes shut preparing for what he knew was coming.

            “Silas! No!” His mother screamed.

            Glenn shrieked as the crack resounded through the air again. He had expected the blow to hit him. He looked up in astonishment when it did not. His mother stood in the way, protecting him.

            “Get out of the way woman!” His father grabbed her and physically pushed her back into their room and locked her in. She screamed in protest and continued to bang on the door. Glenn stood frozen in fear as the man who was his father turned back towards him. He had never seen the man so angry. Suddenly his feet had a mind of their own and just took off running. He was halfway to his own room before he realized he had even moved.

            He dove under the covers and tried hard to stifle his sobs. When he saw the flickering light approaching, he knew he had made a mistake. His room would be the first place his father looked. He whimpered, bringing his knees to his chest under the scant shelter of the heavy blanket.

            “Stand up,” his father barked. Glenn did not move. The blanket tore away, renewing Glenn’s sobs.
            “I said stand up!” his voice louder. “And stop crying!”
            Glenn only cried harder.

            “Stop crying or I will give you a reason to cry.”

            Glenn knew the truth of this, but he had never been able to stop himself from crying when he needed to. He was too scared. A coward.

            Glenn anticipated the blow. When the closed fist struck the side of his skull, Glenn moved to the right with it allowing himself to tumble to the floor. But this tactic was not nearly enough to lessen the blow. Not this time. The boy blinked rapidly trying to clear the swimming sensation that dominated his vision.

            “Get back to your feet!” the man who was his father shouted. Glenn suspected he had said this once already, but he hadn’t heard through the ringing in his ears.
            “I said, get back to your feet!” he slammed the lantern onto the table. The sound of shattering glass echoed through the room. His father cursed. Lantern oil splashed across the man’s arm and torso. The flames spread across the wet surfaces instantly. The screaming began a split second later.

            But Glenn pondered this for only a second before forcing himself to his feet and running to the door that represented his freedom, and therefore his safety. He closed it hard behind him. He had to get to his tree.

            He ran to the field behind the house, to the farthest corner of the pasture and started to climb his tree with a nimbleness and coordination his father would not have believed. Higher and higher he went, determined to be completely out of reach. It wasn’t until he had reached his highest perch that he turned back towards the house. What he saw caused him to freeze. The house was flickering orange and red just like the hearth fireplace. Black heavy smoke billowed from open windows.

            “Mama!!” he screamed. He had to save her. She was locked in her room! But for the second time that day Glenn found himself frozen in fear, unable to move.

 

            “We’ve recovered two bodies sir. It looks like Lydia woke in her sleep and tried to get out. She probably suffocated.”

            Glenn whimpered in the corner at this news. He kept trying to hold back his tears, but they kept finding new reasons to fall. The soldier threw him a startled glance.

            “I’m sorry sir. I didn’t realize you had found him.”

            The older man shook his head as if to say not to worry. “Do we know what caused the fire?” he asked.

            “We found the remaining shards of a broken lantern. That’s probably where it started. Sir Silas was found there. If he spilled oil on himself it would have caught immediately. That may explain why he was not able to escape in time.”

            Silence reigned at this statement punctuated occasionally by Glenn’s half-suppressed sobs. The older soldier stood up suddenly. Glenn could not help but flinch backward.

            “Glenn, son. Tell me, how old are you now?” the man asked him gently.

            “Eight.” The boy sniffled. The young soldier shook his head sadly.

            “Glenn, do you understand what happened today?”

            The boy nodded unable to push words through his constricted throat. His parents had both died. It was his fault. His father had been right about him all along. He was a coward. If he had any courage at all his father never would have been angry. If he had been brave his parents would not have fought. If he had been brave he would have been able to go back inside and save his mother. His vision blurred and renewed tears fell down his face. His whole body clenched and wracked.

            The older man put his hand awkwardly on the boy’s shoulder.

            “It’ll be okay son. I know its not right now. But it will be.”

            “Sir, what will happen to him?”

            “I don’t know. He’ll be fostered out I suppose.”

            “May I make a suggestion sir?”

            “Please…”

            Within an hour Glenn found himself in a carriage on the road to the Tisran Plains.

           

            Short scene showing how Glenn feels in the way.

            The headwoman was handing out chore assignments. Glenn began to try to help, but the burlap sacks of flour were much too heavy for him and he nearly toppled over.

            “No Glenn, that’s alright. Let Stephen do it.”

            Glenn dropped the burden and watched as the older boy took on the task without comment.

            She suggests that he go outside and play.

            Glenn went reluctantly. But the younger boys were already locked in a game. He didn’t know how to ask if he could join and they didn’t seem to notice him.

            So he found a tree. Stayed in the tree until someone yelled at him for the unsafe activity.

 

            Glenn buried his head between his knees in the stone den desperately trying to stifle his sobs. He had to be grateful and useful to give back to the family that had adopted him. But he couldn’t help it. He missed his own mother. Her soft voice and constant encouragement had always made him feel safe. Now he felt in the way and separate and completely alone.

            Glenn nearly jumped out of his skin as warm arms enveloped him. Glenn looked up into the face of a gentle angel. Leene with her golden hair and sapphire blue eyes was that beautiful.

            “There now. It is all right Master Glenn. Just let it out,” she encouraged him. At that moment Glenn could not fight against the despair that was his grief. He gave into Leene’s kindness and his own tears and just cried… cried hard. He clutched her arms and felt the salt water spill off his face. Leene just held and rocked him. He thought the torrent would never end, but gradually he was able to calm himself. Eventually he had control again and was able to wipe away his tears.

            “I’m sorry milady, I did not mean to disgrace you with my tears,” Glenn said brokenly as he pulled away suddenly mortified he had soiled the beautiful Leene’s gown.

            “Do not worry so,” she soothed, “You have not disgraced me nor have you disgraced yourself. It is a strong and brave lad who can admit to tears.”

            “It is?” he asked in surprise. “My father always said tears were a shameful weakness.”

            “Just goes to show fathers are not all-knowing, does it not?” she replied with a playful grin.

            “Are you an angel?” Glenn asked without thought, then instantly clasped a hand to his mouth in embarrassment.

            “Goodness no!” she laughed. “Just a caring friend. Are you feeling better?” At his nod she helped him to his feet.

            “Come with me Master Glenn,” she said offering him her hand. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” She did not need to tell him twice. He would follow her anywhere.

            She led him to a wooden door and knocked loudly. There was rustling inside, but no one answered Leene’s summons.

            “Cyrus!” Leene pounded on the door once again. Cyrus?! Glenn ducked behind Leene in a panic. He had been avoiding the knights and squires specifically since he had arrived. He was certain they would want him to learn to fight and that they would hurt him when he cried.

            “What is it?!” an irritated lad swung the door open and suddenly Glenn relaxed. He had a boyish face that looked friendly despite his current scowl. And even better the squire’s arm was in a sling! Glenn felt guilty for the thought, but he couldn’t help it. If Cyrus was injured he’d have a much harder time striking Glenn when he cried.

            “It’s a pleasure to see you as well, brother mine,” Leene said sweetly as she swept into his chambers pulling the shy Glenn into the room behind her. “I came to introduce you to our newest fosterling, but I am sad to say that your time at court has not taught you the manners in conversing with a lady of the household, let alone such an important guest.”

            Glenn tensed at her audacity, suddenly afraid for her. His father, Glenn’s only example of knightly behavior, would never have taken that kind of an insult. Cyrus, however, was grinning.

            “You must forgive me dear sister. I fear that I will never be able to see you as a lady. Not after you stole father’s prized stallion and rode off in the middle of the night to warn Alexan…”

            A blushing Leene interrupted him with a hard poke in the ribs.

            “No need to bring that up around innocent ears,” she objected.

            “Watch it Leene!” Cyrus complained. “You’re jostling the arm. It still hurts!”

            Glenn did not know what to make of the siblings’ behavior. They were insulting and assaulting each other in turn, but neither seemed upset. In fact, Leene had just thrown her arms around her brother’s neck and he returned the embrace awkwardly.

            “Gods, I have missed you,” she said. “It’s been no fun around here without you. Whatever happened? How did you manage to get yourself injured?”

            “You’ll hear soon enough,” Cyrus dodged the question. “If it’s all the same to you I’d like to keep my pride for as long as possible.”

            “Certainly,” Leene said obviously amused. “I’ll just ask father’s page! He always has the best tidbits.”

            “I fell off my horse, if you must know,” Cyrus admitted.
            “But you would never!” Leene held her hand to her mouth in mock astonishment.

            “He would if he was trying to do some crazy maneauver to show off to the Lady asdf,” Glenn chimed in softly. Both suddenly turned toward him. Leene looked amused. Cyrus slightly annoyed. Glenn very much wanted to hide.

            “So what brings you here so blasted early in the morning?” Cyrus asked turning back to his sister.

            “I wanted to introduce you to Master Glenn!” Leene explained. “Father has agreed to take him on as fosterling until his reaches his majority or achieves knighthood.”

            “So you’re going to be here for awhile then!” Cyrus greeted him enthusiastically, “Well met! And welcome to the family manor.” He gestured grandly with his good arm to indicate the entire building. Then he leaned forward and gestured for Glenn to lean in.

            “Are you sure you want to stay here?” he whispered conspiratorially. “With us? You do know that insanity runs in the bloodline don’t you?”

            “I cannot speak ill of your family milord,” Glenn objected softly staring at his feet, “Sir Gareth and Lady Elena have only shown me welcome and Lady Leene…” Glenn trailed off not knowing how to explain that Lady Leene had just held him as he cried. He was grateful when Cyrus filled in the silence with soft laughter.

            “I see you’ve found yet another admirer,” Cyrus said to Leene who blushed and then he turned back to Glenn. “The whole lot may be rather kind and generous lad, but that doesn’t mean we’re not insane.”

            Glenn grinned in response. Amazingly, he felt at ease around Cyrus.

            “Glenn? Would you give us a moment?” Leene asked him gently. He nodded and obediently ducked out of the room. But he didn’t go far. Glenn was certain that he was still the topic of conversation and he didn’t want to miss it. So he stayed at the door and listened hard to the muffled voices.

            “What happened to him?” Cyrus asked seriously.

            “Both his parents died in a fire. He alone survived,” she explained.

            “Why did you bring him to me?”

            “He needs a mentor and a guardian. I’m hoping you’ll take him under your wing. I suspect some of the pages and serving boys have been distant and cruel to him. And he’s feeling very much alone. I’d do it myself Cyrus, but I can’t teach him the things a young boy ought to know.

            “Why me? I’m leaving as soon as this has healed.”

            “Which means you’ll be here for at least three months! Possibly as long as six! Plenty of time to get the boy settled and moving smoothly through a routine.”

            “Surely some of the masters at arms would be more appropriate.”

            “I trust you to be gentle with him. He seems nervous and fearful at all times. Those men are incredibly intimidating to a boy so small. Plus, when you leave, perhaps Glenn can come with you for his own training.”

            Glenn cringed at these words. Despite their worry for him and their kind words, it was exactly as he feared. They would expect him to become a knight.

            “Alright,” Cyrus agreed with a sigh.

            Leene squealed with glee. “I knew I could count on you! Thank you Cyrus!”

            Glenn knew that Leene would be making her exit any moment and he would be mortified to be caught eavesdropping. With year’s of practice, Glenn darted silently back down the hall and around the corner.

 

            Glenn felt guilty for avoiding Cyrus. He knew Cyrus was constantly seeking him out. Glenn thought Cyrus seemed safe enough, but he knew from experience, that such appearances could be deceiving.

            So Glenn couldn’t go to the practice yards – not that he wanted to – or to the dining hall until the busiest hours were over. Perhaps a good tree climbing was in order. Glenn had yet to find a tree as good and as easy to climb as his old one in the orchard, but the Western Forest had many unexplored possibilities.

            “Going somewhere Tadpole?” a voice called after him. Glenn turned to face three boys behind him. Add description of forest to emphasize how isolated and far from the manor he is.

            “Tadpole, I thought I told you that you had to clean my tack,” another voice chided. Two more boys darted from behind bushes. He was surrounded. Glenn’s eyes darted between his ambushers, looking for escape routes, but the conclusion was inescapable: he was cornered.

            “I… I just hadn’t gotten to it yet,” Glenn managed to stammer.

            “You thought you could neglect your chores, Tadpole?” the first boy said with a false sweet tone. “We’ll have to teach you a lesson in discipline!” And the circle tightened around him.

            “I’m sorry!” Glenn begged, but the circle continued to close. Glenn tried to run and break free, but he was pushed back toward the center. He stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. Instinct took over and he huddled into a ball, closed his eyes, and covered his head with his arms.

            “Please no,” he prayed. One boy kicked a small hard projectile that struck his hand. It was no worse than the twigs and pebbles that were digging into his flesh, but Glenn whimpered.

            “Stand up Tadpole!” he ordered, “You won’t learn discipline lying down on the job!”

            The boys started shoving and kicking him as he lay on the ground crying in pain. He prayed the beating would end before he lost consciousness.

            “Hey!” a much deeper distant voice called out. The shoving stopped instantly.

            “It’s Cyrus! Run for your lives!” and the boys scampered off.

            Glenn couldn’t stop sobbing. He had just started to think that maybe this place would be different – Leene, and even Cyrus, seemed so nice, that maybe it would be safe.

            Firm hands grasped his shoulder and tried to lift him up.

            “Please don’t hurt me.” The boy cried, certain a blow was due at any second. “Father, please,” he whimpered. But the hands that pulled him up were gentle and Glenn was able to calm himself.

            “It’s me, Glenn. It’s Cyrus. I won’t hurt you.”

            Glenn opened his eyes to see Cyrus kneeling on the ground to be at Glenn’s eye-level. Glenn only met his eyes for a second, before averting his gaze back to the ground.

            “Are you okay?” the older boy asked with concern. Glenn forced himself to nod.

            “Glenn, I need to ask you something that is really important. It may be difficult for you to answer, but I need you to try really hard okay?”
            Again, Glenn nodded still not looking up at his savior.

            “Why did you say what you did? About your father?”

            Glenn did not know how to respond. There was no way to answer that. If he did, Cyrus would know that he was a coward.

            “Glenn,” Cryus said firmly, but warmly, “I know it’s hard, but I need you to answer this question. I promise I will not be angry or upset about anything that you tell me.”

            Glenn looked up into Cyrus’ face for a brief second, looking for any signs of deception. Such promises were easily given and more easily broken. But Cyrus had just saved him. Maybe Glenn could trust him.

            “I would cry because I was scared,” Glenn began, staring at his own hands as he spoke, “and my father would get angry and would yell at me.”

            “Go on,” Cyrus encouraged when he paused.

            “Well, he sometimes would punish me because he said that I was weak and that I was a coward and unfit to becoming a knight,” Glenn began crying.

            “Glenn, Glenn,” Cyrus said soothingly placing his arm on the boy’s shoulder, “that’s not true at all.”

            Glenn pulled away. “Yes, it is!” He insisted, “That’s why mama died! Because I was scared. Because I didn’t go back and unlock her door. Father had locked her in! And I was scared that he would be angry. That he would hit me when I unlocked her door. And she died…” Glenn’s voice became smaller and less confident as he began crying again.

            “Glenn, what happened to your mother was not your fault. Your father is responsible for his own actions. You are not to blame for the things that he chose to do.” Cyrus said. Glenn knew better than to argue.

            “And he was wrong. You are not a coward. You were very brave to tell me what you just did. And how long have you been tormented by those boys?”

            Glenn shrugged. It didn’t matter.

            “You put up with them all by yourself and you didn’t have to. That was brave too. Although maybe foolish,” he chided with a smile. Glenn did not smile. Glenn knew the truth of it. He was not brave. He was a coward. The only reason he had not mentioned his bullies to anyone was because he was afraid of how others would react. That they would say he was weak for not being able to protect himself. That they would be angry.

            “You probably should learn how to fight Glenn,” Cyrus said, changing the subject slightly.

            “Father wanted me to fight, to become a knight, but I hate it.”

            “Why?”

            “Because it hurts when I get hit,” Glenn explained, hoping against all hope that the young squire would understand.

            “So learn to not get hit,” Cyrus responded. Glenn tensed not knowing how to take this new bit of information. Did Cyrus expect him to get over his fear and become a knight anyway? Or was he just trying to help? Cyrus seemed to sense his uncertainty.

            “Glenn, you don’t have to become a knight if you don’t want to be one. No one here will force you.”

            “Truly?” Glenn asked, not daring to believe this.

            “Truly,” Cyrus said with a smile. “You could become a blacksmith,” the youth said dramatically, “or a… scholar. Or the king’s very own chef! There’s no job more important than that one!” Glenn couldn’t help but laugh at Cyrus’ antics, but he quickly sobered as Cyrus’ face turned serious.

            “But Glenn, you should learn to protect yourself. You should learn some self-defense so people like those bullies will think twice about messing with you.”

            Glenn shifted from foot to foot considering this.

            “Will you teach me?” the boy asked, thinking that if Cyrus was the one to teach him it might not be so bad.

            “I can try,” Cyrus said smiling. “I’ve never tried to teach anyone before. But I can try. Come on,” Cyrus rose to his feet and offered Glenn a hand, “Let’s head back to the manor and we’ll work out a training schedule.”

            Glenn followed him willingly, actually a little excited about learning from Cyrus.

            “Cyrus, may I ask you something?” Glenn asked as they walked.

            “I think you just did,” Cyrus said with a grin, “but you may ask another.”

            “Why did they attack me?” Glenn asked, “What did I do wrong?”

            “I think they were just jealous Glenn.”

            “Jealous?!” Glenn repeated, shocked. “Whatever for?” Glenn could not imagine anyone wanting to be like him.

            “You were adopted and taken in by a noble family that is in favor with the monarchy. You are in the constant company of my adored sister and she does seem to dote on you. To them, you seem rather fortunate,” Cyrus explained gently.

            “Oh,” Glenn said, feeling rather slow. He definitely understood others wanting to be in the company of Lady Leene.

 

Leene fussing over his cuts and bruises.

            “This may sting,” she warned. And when the salt water fell into the open wound Glenn could not suppress his cringe, but he covered up the instinctive response immediately.

            “Doesn’t hurt at all,” he insisted with bravado.

            “It doesn’t? What a brave lad,” she crooned her eyes dancing in merriment. “I think you’re all set.”

            “Well then, let’s get started,” Cyrus said offering the boy a hand.

            “Now?” he asked uncertainly.

            “What are the two of you up too?” Leene asked.

            “Cyrus is going to teach me self defense,” Glenn said shyly.

            “Cyrus! Are you mad? Can’t you see the boy is hurt?”

            “Which only means he has greater motivation,” Cyrus insisted. “You may join us if you like!”

            Leene glared after them.

 

            Cyrus teaches him to fall, but Glenn is quick to master this having taken punches for years. Then how to become deadweight. Then to dodge and to roll. Starts to sneak in some offensive moves. Is shocked to find that Glenn is a natural. He is quick on his feet. Cyrus did have to teach him how to stand his ground solidly and accept that he would get a little bruised no matter what. But mostly, Glenn just had to get over his fear.  Responds to warmth and encouragement. Not shouting insults, threats, and physical intimidation.

            “Where did you learn to do that?”

            “Do what?”

            “Move with the blow like that. Who taught you that?”

            “I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to. Next time, I will stand and defend.”

            “No Glenn, it’s perfect. In fact, it’s amazing. That’s how you fight a larger heavier opponent. You can’t stand your ground against a man twice your size, which at this point is… well, everyone. Speed, dodge and anticipation of a blow are...”

            “My father always said it was cowardice.”

            Cyrus sighed. “I have this strange sense of foreboding that I’m going to be hearing that a lot.”

            “What do you mean? Did I say something wrong?”

            “No Glenn, but I want you to try and always remember that while I’m sure your father meant well, much of what he taught you and his approach toward teaching you, well… it seems very misguided to me.”

 

            “Father, he is amazing! He can be absolutely silent on his feet.”

            “You have done excellent work with the boy. He has come along quite nicely in both social and physical skills alike.” his father said sincerely. Glenn beamed from his hiding nook. Praise from Sir Gareth was highly coveted. “So when do you think he will be ready for the Academy?”

            “I don’t think he should go to the academy,” Cyrus said.

            “But you just said-” Sir Gareth frowned.

            “Yes father, but as I have confided in you before, Glenn has some specific hardships in his past. And the Academy’s harsh discipline and constant hazing will only serve to push him back into the shell that Leene and I have worked so hard to get him to shed.”

            “I’m not without sympathy, but he cannot be protected forever Cyrus,” Sir Gareth said gently. “War is coming. He needs to develop a thicker skin.”

            “Yes father. I know that.”

            “I’m assuming you have some other suggestion.”

            “Yes, I’d like to train him myself,” Cyrus said hesitantly. There was a long pause as Sir Gareth contemplated this pronouncement.

            “And what of your own training?”

            “Well, once you’re a squire you don’t have to strictly stay at the palace. Squires are sometimes assigned to border patrols with seasoned knights. I don’t see why I couldn’t train with Sir Teegan. He is only a thirty-minute ride away. And when Glenn is farther along, he could come too. I will explain to Sir Teegan that we must tread carefully.”

            “This means that much to you? That you would be willing to sacrifice the camaraderie of your friends and peers to work with this boy?”

            “Glenn has become a friend as well Father. And quite frankly, he needs me more than they do.”

            Sir Gareth nodded, “Very well then. Assuming Sir Teegan is agreeable and you do not slack on your own training, I see no reason why you should not continue with your plan.”

            “Thank you father!”

            “Don’t thank me. You have not yet realized how much extra work and heartache you’ve just given yourself and saved me. I do not envy you my son.”

 

Cyrus, overworked and exhausted, snaps at a whiny Glenn. Glenn tenses up and wilts. Cyrus immediately apologizes and explains himself.

            “What if the prince…?”

            “Glenn, how do you come up with such notions?!” Cyrus cried in exasperation.       “We’ve been over this a dozen times. Its like every two steps forward, you take one back.”

            Glenn cringed at the harsh tone and began looking for a place to hide. Cyrus’ eyes softened.

            “Glenn, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. Are you okay?”

            Glenn forced himself to nod though he still was fighting his desire to bolt.

 

            Glenn catches Leene at weapons practice. He is shocked at her skill with a knife.

            “Leene!” Glenn exclaimed in shock.

            She whirled around. “Glenn!” she said nervously. “What are you doing here?”

            “I’m sorry,” he said contritely immediately catching the fear and upset in her voice.

            “No Glenn, it’s okay,” she insisted more softly. “Just… please don’t tell anyone.”

            “I don’t understand.”

            “My father forbade me learning any weapons.”

            “Why?”

            “Because he knows I’d rather be a knight than a lady.”

            “Where did you learn? I mean you’re really good!” he complimented trying to pull the knife out of the wooden board.

            “Cyrus! Who else?”

            “He really is a good instructor,” Glenn agreed.

            He suggests a spar between the two of them.

            They are caught.

            Gareth is pissed and disappointed.

            Glenn tries to defend Leene. Says that it was his idea.

            Her eyes darted toward his in surprise.

            “Glenn, don’t you dare!” she screeched angrily. “You are not going to take the blame for this. The truth is I’ve been learning the crossbow, short sword and knife throwing for years. Glenn just caught me tonight.”

            “Which of my weaponsmasters went again my orders?”

            She remained silent.

            “I see,” he said darkly. “Well, since I can’t seem to keep you out of trouble here on the manor, I will have to send you to court with your mother this spring. Perhaps, they can turn you into a proper lady.”

            Glenn lost it. “She is a proper lady!” he objected. “The most beautiful and most sincere.”

            They both stared at him in shock. He felt the blush creep up to his face.

            “Glenn, I must say I’m delighted to see you develop a backbone,” Gareth said calmly. “And of course I am honored that you think so highly of my daughter. But I suggest you speak to your elders with more respect.”

            “Yes sir,” Glenn said softly.

           

 

Sparing practice years later. Glenn wins. Cyrus grins up at his pupil. Glenn pulls him to his feet.

            For a split second, Glenn thought Cyrus had let him win. But seeing his friend’s wide eyes – he realized he had truly caught the young knight off guard.

            “That was a brilliant move. What gave you the idea?”

            Glenn shrugged. “Instinct? There was no other way to counter that strike.”

            But he couldn’t wipe the pleased grin that bloomed across his face. He had never before bested his mentor and teacher in a sparring match. And Cyrus looked just as pleased.

 

            He was going to tell her. Flushed with his victory against Cyrus he felt he was finally worthy. She was usually in the gardens at this time. He strode forward more confident than ever. He saw her by the pond, her sunlit golden hair falling over one shoulder.

            “Leene!” Glenn shouted to her. She turned her shining sapphire eyes towards him, smiling.

            “Hello Glenn, you look to be in high spirits this afternoon.”

            He nodded in agreement, suddenly unable to speak as his nerves caught up to him. And he had to force himself to breathe.

            “Glenn?” she said with concern, “What is it? Are you alright?” He nodded again trying to convince himself to speak.

            “Leene, I…” he began.

            “Milady Leene!” a sudden strong voice rang out, “There you are! I have searched everywhere for you!” Leene’s face lit up as she turned to face His Highness. Glenn’s gut twisted sickeningly at her expression.

            The prince bowed deeply, grasped her hand and brought it to his lips with a courtly grace Glenn very much envied.

            “Milord Prince!” Leene exclaimed excitedly, “We did not expect you to arrive so soon!”

            “I wanted to surprise you,” he said brightly. Leene blushed. Glenn scowled.

            “You remember Glenn of course,” Leene gestured toward him obviously trying to deflect some of the attention. Glenn forced himself to bow to the prince, but he could not completely erase his displeasure at His Highness’ arrival.

            “Master Glenn!” the Prince exclaimed in surprise, “You were this big,” he held his hand just above his own waist, “last time I saw you! Is it true you just bested Cyrus? It’s about time someone brought that man’s ego down a peg or two. Congratulations!”

            Leene jerked her head in surprise back towards Glenn. Glenn nodded confirmation of his victory. She grinned widely at him and threw her arms around him.       
            “Glenn! That’s wonderful! That makes you the best squire in all of Guardia! I’m so proud of you!” Glenn returned the embrace, closing his eyes as he breathed in her light perfume. She pulled away far too quickly.

            “Well, I don’t know about that,” Glenn replied modestly.

            “No, she’s absolutely right!” the prince argued, “Half of the full knights cannot give Cyrus a challenge. Very few of them can defeat him in a fair fight. None of the other squires come even remotely close! If you are good enough to beat Cyrus I can’t wait to see you in action!”

            “Perhaps you should join me for a sparing match,” Glenn suggested smoothly. “I might be able to give you a few pointers.”

            The prince grinned, “I would like that!”

            “As would I,” Glenn agreed.

            “Be careful Your Highness,” Leene warned, “Our Glenn fights fair, but he will not go easy on you.”

            “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” the prince agreed. Glenn smiled in anticipation of the contest.

            “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Leene teased. “I do apologize to you both, but I must be going. I believe my lady mother will need my assistance this evening with all of the extra guests.” She curtsied deeply to the prince, winked at Glenn, and seemed to float away.

            The Prince sighed as she left. He held a sparkling sapphire pin in his hand as he stared after her. Glenn’s eyes widened as he realized the piece of jewelry contained Guardia’s Royal Crest. Glenn’s stomach sank even further at the sight. He knew what it meant.

            And he suddenly understood why the entire royal contingent had arrived.

            “I did the design in blue to match her eyes, but father didn’t want to allow it. Goes against tradition I guess. But I was never one to follow tradition. Do you think she’ll like it?” The prince asked him, obviously nervous. Not nearly nervous enough in Glenn’s opinion.

           

            “Glenn?” Cyrus asked concerned, “What’s wrong? What happened?” Glenn cursed his expressive face and his friend’s ability to read him so well. Glenn turned away until his eyes inevitably fell to the fair Leene, her arms linked with His Highness, a sparkling sapphire pin in her hair.

            “Ah,” Cyrus understood immediately. “He finally proposed did he?” Glenn looked down to his feet, refusing to confirm this awful turn of events. Cyrus placed a comforting hand on Glenn’s shoulder. Glenn was grateful for the contact though he would never admit it.

            “Glenn,” Cyrus said gently, “You’re my brother, even if you’re not Leene’s intended.” Touched by the kind words, Glenn looked up to meet another set of painfully blue eyes. He nodded.

            “Thank you Cyrus,” Glenn replied, wishing he had better words to express his gratitude for all the young Knight-to-be had done for him thoughout the years.

 

            Sparing match.

            The prince was grinning, obviously delighted.

            Glenn started slow – working the prince through the standard forms. He was obviously well trained, but it was all stiff and mechanical.

            “Is that all you’ve got Glenn?” his highness mocked.

            Glenn’s eyes narrowed. He leapt forward, striking hard breaking the prince’s guard and then swiping his legs out from under him.

            The prince came immediately back to his feet, grinning.

            Glenn felt irritated at how lightly Alexander was taking this. And so he struck mercilessly. The grin faded from the prince’s face as he turned serious, perhaps a little worried.

            Glenn disarmed him. And shoved the broadsword in anger right up to the prince’s neck. Their eyes met.

            “I yield,” the prince said, with a grin. The grin faded when Glenn didn’t move away. His eyes turned into wide saucers. This man was at his mercy. Glenn reveled in it.

            “Glenn!” Cyrus’ voice cut through everything, “What are you doing?”

            Glenn’s eyes focused on the crowned prince and he dropped his sword, suddenly horrified.

            How easy it had been to want to hurt someone, to hold power over them. To become angry and let his emotions do the thinking for him.

            He was just like his father.

            “My most sincerest of apologies your highness!” Glenn said, on his knees with his eyes focused on the ground in front of him. “I don’t know what came over me.”

            Alexander rose uncertainly to his feet. And he didn’t speak for a long time. “My father calls it battle fever.”

            He offered a hand to Glenn. The squire took it reluctantly and allowed the prince to pull him to his feet, but he did not meet the other man’s gaze.

            “I am most grateful that you train and fight for Guardia, Squire. But a word of advice, don’t let your oppenent get you so worked up so easily.”

            Glenn was not so sure he trusted himself to do that.

            Not anymore.

           

            “Are you out here moping again?” Cyrus accused. Glenn grinned in spite of his melancholy thoughts, but continued to stare at the red sun sinking down to the horizon.

            “It’s good to see you as well,” Glenn shot back.

            “I’m leaving on the morrow,” Cyrus said. Glenn nodded, not at all surprised. The Mystic War was escalating. His Majesty, King Guardia XX had fallen in battle. His Majesty King Guardia XXI and his Queen had been corronated just a fortnight past. Cyrus could not stand idle anymore. He was a great resource and his staying home to train a sorry-excuse-for-a-squire, was a waste of the best talent Guardia had seen in years – a true hero, with the perfect disposition to match.

            Unlike Glenn.

            Even if he could best Cyrus in two out of three matches, he now lost his stomach at the mere thought of a real battlefield.

            “You should come too!” Cyrus insisted.

            Glenn shook his head. “I think I’d really lose it if I had to hurt someone.”

            “But you’re better with a sword than I am!” Cyrus argued. “You wouldn’t have to fight on the frontlines. You could just as easily come as an instructor to train our knights and squires.”

            “It might start out that way, but you know very well that His Majesty would not hesitate to make use of my abilities should the need arise,” Glenn countered.

            Cyrus could not argue with this. His Majesty would have to make decisions that were best for Guardia – and unfortunately those interests did not always line up with the individual’s.

            “Not even for Her Majesty? Don’t you want to protect her and this kingdom?” Cyrus begged. Glenn smiled as he thought of Leene’s angelic face.

            “No… she doesn’t need me. She has him. And she has you. She has never needed me.”

            “You don’t give yourself nearly enough credit. Since becoming Queen, Leene only has a few friends that she can trust with anything. You are one of her few confidants. Someday she will need you more than anyone – even His Majesty,” Cyrus insisted. Glenn doubted this, but he stifled his objections.

            “Well, since I can’t talk sense into you, there was one thing I wanted to make official before I left,” Cyrus pulled his belt knife and sliced open his own palm letting blood flow freely and held his bloody hand out toward Glenn.

            The young squire finally turned towards Cyrus, his friend and mentor – his brother in everything but blood. He took the knife silently and winced as he slid the blade across his own palm.

            They grasped hands letting their life-blood mingle.

            “I will miss you little brother,” Cyrus said as he pulled Glenn into an embrace.

            “Please survive,” Glenn begged fighting back sudden tears.

            “If you’re so worried. You should come too! I would have nothing to fear with you watching my back.” Cyrus said only half jokingly. It was almost enough.

            Almost.

 

            Cyrus didn’t come back for over a year. Glenn saw Leene more often. News of the war. What is Glenn doing to contribute? To the Manor? Helping Elena run the household. Taking care of the horses – trained a lot of beasts. Training the youngest boys – sending the ones with most talent off to be squires at the palace.

            Glenn whistled in appreciation of the silver badge pinned to Cyrus’ chest.

            “Is that the Hero’s Medal?!” he asked, shocked. There was only one Hero’s Medal and it could only be gifted from the previous owner. It was always awarded to someone that had demonstrated total commitment and loyalty to the realm…

            Cyrus turned toward him.

            Glenn paled at the expression on his brother’s face. Cyrus was different – his eyes haunted. His smile, which had been so easy to earn in the past, showed no sign of residence. He had grown serious and hard. Battles at the front were not pretty and Glenn was certain Cyrus had faced horrors that he would never forget. Nightmares that Glenn did not want to even imagine.

            “This cannot continue Glenn,” Cyrus said tonelessly. “I need to end it. Now. Before anyone else has to die.”

            “But how?” Glenn asked.

            “Leene did a lot of research. If I can get the Masamune, I can penetrate beyond the Mystic King’s unnatural shielding. And then I can decapitate this monster.”

            “I thought those stories myth. Does such a blade truly exist?”

            “I cannot be sure, but it’s our last hope. I have a lead,” Cyrus explained. And then paused. “Glenn, I know that you want no part in this war, but I need your help. Legend has it that the blade won’t allow just anyone to wield it. The spirits of the blade test you in battle. I may be able to defeat them, but you are the best. I feel you are the best chance we have. I hate to ask this of you Glenn, but there is no one else. I see no other way to end this nightmare.”

Glenn was silent. Glenn knew that Cyrus would not ask him to fight a living creature, but that didn’t mean Glenn wouldn’t have to. But Cyrus would never ask this of him lightly. All of Guardia was at stake.

“Please Glenn. There is no one else.”

            “Alright Cyrus. When do we leave?”

 

Scene with Leene. She begs Cyrus not to go.

            “What will you tell the king?” Cyrus asked.

            “I am not going to tell him anything,” Leene said.

            “But…” Cyrus objected.

            “You can tell him yourself,” she said coldly.

            “He would not let us go.”

            “That’s because this is a fool’s quest! Fairy tales! Wishful thinking!” Leene railed at Cyrus.

            “Leene!” Cyrus interrupted, “This was your idea!”

            “And I changed my mind!” she screamed. “I was being foolish. We need you here… I need you here!”

            Glenn shifted into the rich heavy curtains determined to remain as inconspicuous as possible. If he failed, he knew it was only a matter of time before she started on him as well.

            As if summoned by his thoughts, Leene whirled around and directed her glare at him.

            “Has he convinced you to go along with this mad scheme as well?” she demanded. “I cannot lose you both!”

            Glenn searched for something – anything to say, but words failed him.

            “Have a little faith sister dear,” Cyrus soothed with an easy grin, “Rumor has it that Sir Cyrus is inhuman and immortal!”

            “This is serious,” she chastised.

            “Leene, I have never been more serious. I would not go if I did not think it was necessary,” Cyrus told her calmly. “This war has to end. Before it claims any more lives.”

            She stared at him for a long while. Glenn knew she had already capitulated. “You must come back before you face the demon king.”

            “I promise,” he reassured.

            “You be careful too Glenn,” she added.

            “Be of sound health your majesty,” he said awkwardly. He didn’t know what else to say.

            “Glenn!” she admonished. “I have told you a thousand times. Call me Leene! I am Queen to everyone else. Never to you.”

            She embraced him.

            “Yes, your majesty,” he said with a playful grin as she pulled away.

            “Glenn!” she poked him hard in the side.

 

 

            Battle the Frog King on the way to the Masamune that’s myth has located in the Denadoro Mountains. Cyrus beats the enemy into submission and forces the creature to surrender.

            “Now be gone!” Cyrus ordered. “Never set foot in Guardia again.”

            The giant frong nodded.

            “Now, where were…” Cyrus began as he turned toward his squire.

            The second his back was turned the frog king surged forward, his trident directed straight for the exposed back of the knight that had just spared him.

            “Cyrus!” Glenn screamed in warning as he leapt forward to deflect the blow. He broke past the frog king’s guard and stabbed forward. His sword pierced the creature’s soft skin with sickening ease. The beast screamed and then lay unnaturally still.

            Glenn stood, staring down at the amphibian in disbelief. Blood dripped from his sword. Glenn fell to his knees.

            “Glenn, I’m sorry,” Cyrus spoke, breaking the silence. “I never should have asked you to come with me. I have let this nightmare reach even you.”

            “It was either you or him,” Glenn trembled as he spoke. “That’s no choice.” Glenn finished softly, still shaking. Why couldn’t he stop shaking?

            “It gets easier,” Cyrus said handing him a flask. Glenn pushed the flask away violently.

            “And you think that would make me feel better?” Glenn demanded, suddenly angry. “Do you think I want to become comfortable with killing? Do you think I want to become accustomed to ending another’s life?! Become okay with it?”

            “That’s not what I meant,” Cyrus said completely unruffled by Glenn’s accusations. “I simply meant that the shock will wear off and you’ll stop trembling finally. You’ll be able to think about other things. The guilt won’t ever completely fade, but it will become more distant from you instead of all-consuming. Here,” handing him the flask again, “it will help.”

            Glenn fell to the ground and drank deeply from the flask, grateful for the burning sensation down his throat. He rocked back and forth feeling suddenly like a small defenseless child again. Cyrus was polite enough to look away and to remain silent. Glenn took another swig.

            “I threw up after my first kill,” Cyrus confessed after a few minutes.

            “You?!” Glenn turned to look at him in surprise. Somehow he could not envision this noble self-assured young knight losing his guts to the bushes, no matter how gory the battle had been.

            “It was a naga-ette. She saw my strike coming at her. She knew she faced death. Her fear is forever frozen on her face. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I know it feels awful Glenn, but don’t ever lose your guilt.”

            Glenn said nothing.

            “It keeps you human.”

            The chill in his brother’s voice shook him to his core. Glenn was too afraid to ask whether Cyrus had lost his guilt and his humanity or whether he had had to kill someone who had.

 

Tested by Masa and Mune. They test your spirit and your skill. They make you see your greatest fear. Glenn has to face his own father.

            “Stand up boy!”

            Glenn shrunk in upon himself.

            “Glenn!” Cyrus shouted.

            Glenn’s love for Cyrus shakes him out of his fear and he stands and fights.

            “I’m not a child anymore. And you can’t hurt me!”

 

            Then his father’s visage vanished and in front of him stood two of the strangest creatures he had ever seen.

            “We are sorry for frightening you,” the first one said.

            “But if you wish to weild the power of the blade, your spirit and skill had to be tested.”

            “Glenn, you have overcome many personal tragedies, and yet, you have maintained a purity of spirit.”

            “I do not deserve the honor,” Glenn said with bowed head.

            “Oh, but you do. Your skills with the blade are unmatched.”

            “Not to mention your sense of honor.”

            “We would have you wield us.”

            Glenn shook his head. “No.”

            “Perhaps you are not yet ready, but you will come back to us eventually.”

            “What do you mean?”

            “It matters not.”

            And the creatures turned away from him and towards Cyrus.

            And as they spoke to Cyrus, Glenn realized he could not understand what they said to him. Their words were private. But then suddenly Cyrus held out his hands, palms toward the sky.

 

            “Sir Cyrus, despite the atrocities you have both witnessed and committed, you have maintained a purity of spirit.”

            “What did you do to him?” Cyrus asked coldly.

            “Same as we did to you. We tested him in both spirit and skills.”

            “But it was so much worse for him.”

            “He has greater inner turmoil. He is constantly at war with himself, fighting his father’s legacy.”

            “So you’re saying he got through a harder test.”

            “We would have you wield us.”

            “Why? He has greater skills and apparently a stronger spirit,” Cyrus said without any resentment.

            “You sell yourself short.”

            “That’s why you spoke to him first,” Cyrus continued, ignoring the interjection. “He said no. The idiot! Wait here, I will talk some sense into him.”

            “Sir Cyrus,” Masa interrupted. “We will not allow him to wield us at this time. He does not believe he is worthy. And he will stunt our ability to help him as long as he feels that way. You must wield us for now.”

            “But…”

            “You have always felt that your greatest deed was service to the kingdom, but in reality it was your mentorship of Glenn. He will become one of Guardia’s finest heroes!” Mune exclaimed.

            “Glenn?!” Cyrus echoed in astonishment.

            “You doubt his ability?”

            “No! I just… Glenn couldn’t hurt a fly.”

            “I think he disproved that just yesterday.”

            “How do you know this? How do you know he will become a hero? Can you see the future?”

            “No, we cannot see time. But we can see a person’s potential, a person’s destiny so to speak.”

            “And what is mine?”

            “Yours is already complete.”

            The words chilled him to his core. “I see.”

            “I don’t think you do. You still think of yourself as second to Glenn.”

            “Isn’t that what you’re telling me? Not that I begrudge him. I don’t. I love him and could not be more proud,” he said with tears in his eyes. Glenn could never know that Cyrus had come to look at him the way Glenn himself looked at Leene. The boy could never understand.

            Insanity really did run in the family.

            “Sir Cyrus, it is our duty to prepare Glenn for what is to come. We would share this with you, if you would let us.”

            Cyrus nodded. He would do anything for Glenn.

            “You must hold out your hands.”

            He did so. And as he did he was enveloped in light. As the light struck him, he saw, or rather felt Glenn’s destiny and he nearly laughed at the sheer magnitude of it. What he saw made the Mystic War seem trifling. He weeped at the loneliness Glenn often felt and would feel again tenfold.

            He smiled at the glow that represented the lad’s tender feelings for his mentor and realized it was only those feelings that had pushed the boy through his latest trial.

            “Always remember that who he is and who he becomes was not ever possible without you. You made him.”

            Cyrus knew this was untrue. Glenn had done all the work. Cyrus had just shown him the way to get there.

            “You must protect him Cyrus. It is the most important thing you will ever do.”

            And Cyrus knew it would be his own undoing. But he couldn’t turn away from this responsibility. This was his destiny. He had to protect Glenn so that Glenn could save Guardia, so that Glenn could save this entire world, so that Glenn could eventually find the happiness and sense of purpose Cyrus had always known he deserved and had been unable to give him.

 

                       

            The alien creatures started to glow. The light became so bright Glenn was forced to look away. When he could see again, the sword lay gleaming in his brother’s hands.

            Cyrus looked up at him with a sad smile.

            “What is it Cyrus?” the boy asked.

            Cyrus shook his head.

            “Come on! You should be more excited. You just obtained the legendary blade!”

            “Glenn, I want you to know something.”

            “What is it?”

            “It has been my honor to train with you all these years. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. I know you’ll accomplish amazing deeds on Guardia’s behalf.”

            “Cyrus, you’re scaring me.”

            “I’m sorry,” Cyrus said quickly, half laughing. Glenn felt himself relax. “I don’t mean anything by it. I just had to tell you. Facing something like that – well, it makes you appreciate your own mortality.”

            “Cyrus… I don’t know what to say.”

            “You don’t have to say anything Glenn,” Cyrus said, tenderly pushing a lock of sandy brown hair out of his squire’s eyes.

            Glenn’s eyes widened in shock at the intimacy of the gesture.

            “Cyrus?”

            Cyrus jerked his hand back as if burned and his blue eyes refocused.

            “Yes Glenn?” he prompted, his voice back to normal.

            “Are… are you okay?” Glenn asked.

            “Of course Glenn, let’s set up camp.”

            Glenn shrugged his concern away. Cyrus probably just had been shaken by something from his experience.

 

*          *          *

 

            Magus ambushes them as they come down the mountain along with Ozzie. Magus is able to sense the huge outpouring of energy. He goes to investigate as there are only a few things that could release that much energy at once – and most of them were made of dreamstone. If he could get his hands on something made out of dreamstone… well, that would make things a million times easier.

            “Sir Hero! So good to see you again,” the wizard mocked. “I see you have found the Legendary Masamune and a new side-kick! Do you think it will be enough?”

            They fight!

            Cyrus manages to strike a blow – and is relieved when it encounters no unnatural shielding. He grinned.

            Then the mage blasted him backwards.

            Cyrus held up the blade, now no more than a hilt, in disbelief.

            “Glenn, you have to get out of here,” Cyrus called back to him. “I will hold them off. Tell Leene… that I’m sorry.”

            “No Cyrus!” Glenn objected. But the knight was already charging toward the magical fiend. Glenn tried to make himself turn and run, but he could not tear his eyes away. The world seemed to move in slow motion.

            Cyrus attempted to strike from below with his broken blade, but the fiend easily countered the strike. He kicked the knight in the knee and Cyrus stumbled losing his footing. The scythe whistled through the air before slicing through Cyrus’ exposed neck with sickening ease.

            “No!” Glenn cried. He wanted to run away. He wanted to run to his brother. He needed to move. In any direction – it didn’t matter. But he stood rooted in place as Cyrus’s head hit the ground and rolled to the side.

            “Cyrus!” Glenn sobbed, falling to his knees.

            The dark mage kicked the hilt of the Masamune toward him. Glenn stared at it not knowing what to make of the gleaming fragment.

            “Care to try your luck…Glenn?” he taunted. Glenn picked up the hilt of the mythical blade. He glanced up at the warlock through puffy swollen eyes. He wanted to scream, but his throat was raw and his tongue, limp.

            “What’s the matter boy? Cat got your tongue?” The general laughed. “I think Cyrus needed to be a little more selective in his choice of squires. He’s nothing but a trembling tadpole.”

            Glenn turned toward the green monstrosity his grief plunging to new depths. The General was right. Cyrus should have chosen a better companion. Maybe he would still be alive.

            “What say you Magus? Shall we give him a more fitting form?”

            “Sure! Why not? There’s always time for a little fun.”

            For the thousandth time, Glenn tried to make himself run. But it didn’t matter, he wouldn’t have gotten very far anyway. The unnatural lightning struck him less than a fraction of a second later. His whole body began to writhe. He finally found his voice as he screamed in agonizing pain as every bone was crushed down and every ligament and muscle torn and reshaped. Soon blackness overtook him.

 

Cyrus’s perspective of the ambush.

            Faced the warlock for the second time in his life. He knew he wouldn’t walk away – knew that he would not be the one to defeat the warlord.

            No! His mind reeled in panic. It was too soon! Glenn wasn’t ready to face the world alone.

            But a glance at the lad’s determined stance and firm grip on his blade bellied this thought. Perhaps the boy was ready. Perhaps it was he, the hero, who was not ready to let go.

            “Sir Hero! So good to see you again,” the wizard mocked. “I see you have found the Legendary Masamune and a new side-kick! Do you think it will be enough?”

            And he lunged forward immediately, his scythe swinging in a deadly arc.

            But the knight knew that it didn’t matter. He knew with certainty that he wasn’t going to walk away from this. As the spirits had informed him – his destiny was fulfilled. Now his only role was to make sure Glenn made it out of this so that he could fulfill his.

            He faced the arrogant smirk of his adversary with false bravado.

            “Glenn, you have to get out of here now. Warn her majesty.”

            The boy didn’t move.

            “Squire! That was an order!”

            “I won’t leave without you,” the boy insisted.

            Cyrus cursed under his breadth. How could you protect someone who was too stubborn to run from danger? The idiot!

 

            Something from Magus’s perspective? Eventually. Not necessarily here. But a moment when Cyrus says something – or his aura and eyes tell the mage Cyrus wants to protect Glenn more than his own life.

            The mage scoffed at the pleading gleam in his adversary’s eyes. Of course the human would want him to spare his life. But something more stirred within the mage’s core. The knight’s aura swirled with a pattern that the magus had seen only a few times before. But the first time had been Schala – protecting her little brother. He glanced at the boy behind the knight and was rewarded with the knight’s stiffening reaction.

            The knight didn’t plead for mercy on his own behalf. He pleaded for the boy at his back.

            Then you shouldn’t have brought him with you Sir Hero.

            He took the opening the knight’s panic had created and easily beheaded the problem that had dogged him for the last three years.

            Moved toward the lad to finish the job. He couldn’t do it.

            This boy was loved. Magus didn’t know what was so special about him. But he knew that if it had been Schala, he would have died in an instant to keep her safe.

            He did not owe the hero anything – certainly not any mercy.

            Tightened his grip.

            Only to loosen it again. The boy’s aura – stained by tragedy and abuse. The warlock saw himself.

            His General scowled at his hesitation.

            The mage only shook his head. Killing the hero – he could live with. The man had fought and threatened him countless times over the years. But this squire – was not an enemy.

            The green imp sighed before his face transformed into an ugly smile.

            “What say you Magus? Shall we give him a more fitting form?”

            The mage let out a breath of relief at the way out.

            “Sure!” he said, though his voice felt dry. “Why not? There’s always time for a little fun!”

 

            “Glenn,” a voice called softly.

            Glenn stirred, but nothing felt right. He could not bring himself to move.

            “You have to wake up Glenn. You can’t stay here,” it sounded like Cyrus.

            The voice was in his head, he realized. It had to be. Cyrus was dead. His whole body convulsed in wracking sobs. But even that didn’t feel right. His eyes didn’t water as they should.

            A long time before he even opened his eyes and when he did he slammed them closed again. The world looked different – elongated. Colors seemed diminished. He felt his head swimming – the visuals made no sense.

            He opened his eyes again and forced himself to keep them that way. Tried to focus on the round irregular object before him. Only to realize he was looking at Cyrus’ dead eyes starring at him. He scuttled away and that was when he realized that his clothes were puddles around him – suddenly five sizes too large. And he glanced down at himself and realized in horror that his webbed fingers were a motley green!

           

            He raged and screamed. At Magus and his General! At Masa and Mune. What were they good for if they bailed at the first sign of battle? At Cyrus who foolishly went in for that suicidal charge. And at himself for not being able to offer any aid. For not even taking advantage of Cyrus’ final sacrifice. At allowing himself to be turned into this!

            Tries to kill himself, but he can’t do it. He’s scared of the pain yes. But he can’t leave Cyrus like this. And he can’t leave Leene unprotected. He’d have to take up the sword with Cyrus gone. He tries to pick up his own sword. And has trouble getting it out of the sheathe – it’s too long for him. Who was he kidding?! He couldn’t protect anyone.

 

How does Glenn know Flea and Slash? Suicidal ambush on the mystic army shortly after Glenn does not have the courage to end his own life. They don’t kill him because such an end is obviously what he desires.

 

Afterward, he throws the medal away. He didn’t deserve it. Cyrus had never bestowed it upon him as tradition demanded. He was a coward – he couldn’t run, he couldn’t end his own miserable existence, he couldn’t fight when he was needed. He should never be the holder of one of Guardia’s symbolic heirlooms. Especially not the Hero’s Medal.

 

            He touched the silver medal reverently.

            “I threw it away because I didn’t deserve it. Cyrus never bestowed it upon me. He knew that skill with a blade doesn’t make a hero.”

            “I think he would have wanted you to keep it,” Lucca said softly.

            “I hid myself away for years, only leaving to gather provisions and supplies. I chanced upon a band of Mystics. They assumed that I was of their kind and invited me to join their plot. To assassinate the Queen.”

            Lucca gasped in horror.

            “I went with them. And I betrayed them when they struck. I alerted the guards and took out half the band myself. And then, I offered mine services to the queen.”

            “You never told her who you were?”

            Frog shook his head.

            “Then I was knighted,” he croaked in bitter laughter. “The irony of it all is not lost upon me. I always swore I’d never become a knight – it was what my father wanted.”

            “You can’t live like this.”

            “Who said anything about living?”

            “You’d kill yourself now? After all this time?”

            “I can’t. I have made the attempt on more than one occasion, but mine cowardous nature always stays mine hand.”

            Lucca knew this was completely and utterly not true. It was duty, loyalty, and love that kept him here – not cowardice.

            “Well, if death is so welcome, why not come with us? Give it a go? Might as well make your death meaningful.”

            “Find a hero’s end?” he bit out cynically.

            “Sure!” she responded with incredible brightness, completely ignoring his bitterness.

            Silence. Did the girl not understand that what she asked was so much more difficult than facing death? He did not fear death. He feared Cyrus’ bane. The Mystic King knew exactly who he was – knew that the frog was a coward. That’s why he had turned him into a frog instead of killing him outright.

            Need some kind of shift. Think of Leene. Of the war. Of Cyrus.

            “You have to Glenn,” the internal voice that Glenn still recognized as Cyrus seemed to mock him. “There is no one else.”

            “Very well, lass. I suppose there is nothing to be lost.”

 

            “Though we may fail, let us head to Magus’ Lair.”

 

            Crono and Frog sparring matches. Frog kicks Crono’s ass a few times. Offers the lad a break, but Crono refuses.

            He uses lightning to stun Frog.

            “Crono! You’re cheating!” Marle scolded.

            Frog is suddenly suspicious. “What trickery is this?!

            “Art thou Mystics in disguise?”

            “No Frog,” Lucca reassured quickly, “We’re not Mystics. We’re humans same as you… Well, sort of. We can use magic is all.”

            “Can all humans in the future use magic?”

            “You told him we were from the future?” Crono asked. He wasn’t angry. Just shocked. Lucca was so insistent that they be tight lipped about sharing anything about the timeline and now she had told two others in the span of six weeks!

            She at least had the good nature to blush.

 

 

Lucca takes Frog to Spekkio.

            “What does he look like?” Lucca asked.

            “He is a knight, with shining armor of light,”

            “Damn! Why is it that everyone has these magnificent inner selves except me?!”

            “Pardon?”

            “Oh, never mind.”

 

            “Lucca, it may be best if you wait in your present. You’ve already spent too much time here. Plus, time will go by much more quickly for you, if you stay outside this realm.

            “But… I don’t want to leave… Frog here by himself. This place is boring!”

            “’Tis alright lass.”

 

In order, to get to a stable enough place to learn magic. Glenn has to start on the road of forgiveness of himself. And acceptance of all that has happened. Gaspar helps him with this in between training bouts.

 

            “I cannot work with that inhuman beast,”

            “Maybe you just need a break.”

            “Mayhaps I was not meant to wield such powers.”

            “Are you afraid of them?”

            “Why wouldst I be?”

            “Because of what happened to Cyrus.”

            “How doth thou know of Cyrus?”
            “I see things. For example, I know that your best chance of besting the fiendlord is to master the art of elemental magic.”

            “No one can keep secrets from thee old man, yet thou refuse to share any of thine own.”

            “I share all that would help you in your quest.”

            “What will you share in order for me to master the use of magic?”

            “It’s quite simple really. You need to forgive yourself for Cyrus’ death.”

            The frog croaked in bitter laughter.

            “Simple? Thou ask the impossible!”

            “Only nearly impossible.”

            “Thou art making a rather fine distinction.”

            “There is a difference, a very big one.”

            “Cyrus sacrificed himself to save mine worthless self.”

            “It was his choice to make.”

            “He made the wrong one!”

            “You didn’t trust Cyrus?”

            “I trusted him more than I’ve trusted anyone – more than I trust mine self.”

            “Then trust that he knew what he was doing. Trust that he saw an amazing potential within you, that you cannot see yourself.”

            “It was a worthless sacrifice,” the frog said bitterly.

            “That’s up to you.”

            “What nonsense doth thou speak of now?”

            “Well, if you sit here feeling sorry for yourself and stay hidden away in your forest den for the rest of your life, perhaps you are correct and Cyrus’ sacrifice was worthless. On the other hand, do something meaningful with your life…”

            The amphibian glared daggers at him. The old man merely shrugged.

            “It is your choice.”

            The frog said nothing. He simply turned away and stormed back into Spekkio’s lair.

            The old man grinned. Some heroes were more stubborn than others.

 

            “Why me?”

            “There is no one else.”

            Glenn rages at the comment.

 

Comes back and cuts through the wall by channeling his new found magic through the Masamune, which he finds to be an amazing conduit.

            “Frog! That was fast!” Lucca greeted.

            “How long?” he asked.

            “About ten minutes,” Crono explained. “Robo can give you a more precise number if you like.”

            “Twelve minutes and twenty seven seconds,” the android reported.

            The frog shook his head in disbelief. “’Twas not so short a time from mine own perspective.”

            “Yeah, that place does not make sense,” Lucca agreed.

 

            He pulls the blade that Crono presented to him formally. He took it into his hands. The alien twins Masa and Mune did not show themselves, but he could feel the energy of the blade course through his limbs.

            Was this what Cyrus felt during his short tenure with the blade?

            “Mine name is Glenn!” he shouted. “I am a knight of Guardia, the squire and brother to Sir Cyrus, and the wielder of the Masamune.”

 

Castle Crashers           Circa 600 A.D.

Crashing Magus’ Castle:

Planning scene. Going to sneak into the castle. Glenn has been there before. Suicidal attack on the castle. Magus wasn’t there. Flea and Slash toyed with him.

Most of the scenes need to be in Ozzie, Flea, and Slash’s perspectives. And then in Magus’s.

 

Team breaks Flea’s wards and she reports to Ozzie that they have intruders.

 

            “Should we inform Lord Magus that we have intruders?” Flea asked.

            Ozzie shook his head. “We cannot disturb him. That summoning will bring about all that we have fought for for so long. It must be completed. We must stop these intruders whatever the cost.”

            “Very well,” she turned into a bat and flew off looking for the intruders.

            Slash sighed. He hated the deception and subterfuge. He acknowledged the benefits of such pragmatism, but he preferred straightforward single combat. Nothing between him and his opponent except a single blade.

 

She creates illusions – they get trapped in their own memories. Robo breaks them out of them.

 

Slash hates the bullshit. He just amasses hordes of necromanced soldiers and throws them at the crew while he faces Glenn himself. In one on one combat – his favorite kind. And here he was battling the best of Guradia’s knights.

            “You really are better than Sir Cyrus,” Slash said respectfully. “I haven’t gotten this much of a work out in years!”

 

Confrontation with Ozzie – he’s stalling more than engaging. Constantly leading the team through circles and traps. Once the team realizes this, Lucca and Robo game one of the traps to capture Ozzie in his own game.

 

            It was time. The moment of the summoning was finally at hand. The destruction of Lavos was the only gift the Magus would give this cruel world. He had spent the majority of his life gathering the information he needed to complete this task.

            He had spent the last several months carving the necessary runes into the stone floor. The symbols needed to be perfect or the summoning would result only in his death. Then he spent three weeks locating the natural magical nodes in the chamber placing an enchanted candle at each point. Finally he had spent the last three days in isolation, meditating. And now, finally, it was time.

            The Magus gathered the magical energies to himself in sweeping gestures and began to mold the raw power into the shapes he required. The Magus could feel what his eyes could not see - the molds he created solidified one by one as they were completed, almost as if each had a physical existence. This process went far beyond the simple will required to manifest elemental magic. A summoning needed complete single-minded focus and discipline surpassing anything the Magus had ever before attempted.

            “Neuga ziena zieber zom,” his words echoed throughout the chamber, “the chosen time has come to exchange this world for…”

            The Magus was so focused on his task that he did not notice the intruders until they were right behind him, their grating unrefined auras jarring his senses and his concentration. The Magus silently cursed their timing. He knew he could not risk completing the summoning with such a distraction present. Any mistake would be fatal. But he still had some time to be rid of them.

            “It’s that stupid frog,” he said more to himself, but the words echoed. “Kissed any princesses lately?” the Magus taunted.

            “I rather enjoy this form. And I owe it all to thee,” the revolting creature insolently responded, his sword already drawn.

“Ah, the Masamune,” the Magus noticed, hiding his surprise. Would that damned blade always be his bane? Magus happened to know that it had been forged for a different purpose entirely.

The frog was not alone. He had brought friends to play. There were five of them. He smirked. So many? To conquer the single solitary evil wizard?

It wouldn’t be enough. In the past, Magus had incinerated an entire brigade of Mystics as an afterthought. He could handle this motley crew.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your new friends?” Magus asked with false sweetness.

“’Twould be a waste of breath. Momentarily, thee will have met thy end,” the frog responded coldly.

            Suddenly, The Magus’ vision went black and an icy cold permeated his very core. The feeling lasted less than an instant. But Magus could not ignore it – he never could.

            “The Black Wind,” Magus whispered. The warning always revealed itself on the eve of battle. He never knew for certain whether the warning was for himself or for those who opposed him.

            “Alright, give me your best shot.” Magus drew his scythe from a space between dimensions. “If you’re prepared for the void.”

            The frog wasted no time. He leapt straight for Magus, the legendary blade gleaming in his amphibious hands. Bringing up his curved scythe to parry the blow, the Magus silently cursed himself for giving the wretched creature such a nimble form.

            He teleported backward a few paces. The frog stumbled forward with the sudden lack of resistance. The Magus gathered heated energy into his hands and cast out a wave of fire. This would be over quickly.

            Incredulously, the frog raised a shield of water. The flames hissed out of existence as they made contact with the water. Similarly, the archer raised one of ice that protected herself and her red-headed companion. And the other girl had just as much command over fire as himself and was able to redirect the flames. The metallic creature was not as fortunate – the enchanted flames engulfed him and he quickly collapsed.

            “Robo!” the fire girl called out.

These humans could use magic! The Magus had no time to contemplate this revelation, but he quickly raised a magical barrier that would absorb anything they might throw at him magically. He would have to adjust it to allow his own spells out but it was necessary risk. There was no other way he’d be able to keep all of them back.

Chapter Text

The Kingdom of Zeal  Circa 12,000 B.C.

This works as Magus moves around in Zeal as the prophet. Want him to notice that the gurus and Schala are some of the only ones without traces of black in their auras, only a handful have not been corrupted. Only they are not doomed (except Schala).

-Janus is bored of his lessons though he likes Melchior and Gaspar. Belthasar is too absentminded to engage a child. Melchior (who understands people) is his favorite.

-Janus is judgmental of people. He can read their sincerity (or lack thereof) almost instantly and has quickly come to hate political machinations so tends to be very rude and abrupt. Schala is constantly scolding him!

-Eavesdrops on courtier’s low opinion of Janus because he can’t use magic. He shrugs it off knowing he’s better than all of them. Melchior explains his rare ability to the queen. And how amazing it is. Mostly it is brushed off because it’s not magic. That makes him inferior.

-Notices dark cloud building around his mother. Notices the blues and violets disappear. Weeps because he knows that his mother has died. Schala tries to comfort him by showing him that their mother is fine, but he will not hear it. She doesn’t know what to make of his behavior.

-Schala waking him from a nightmare. “Janus, don’t cry. I’m right here. You’re safe now.”

-Schala says she’s leaving to help mother. He tells her not to go. He is scared she will die too. So he follows her. Gets trapped by an energy field and sucked into a time portal.

 

 

Melchior teaching a lesson to Janus. Janus is having a hard time focusing. Melchior becomes frustrated.

            “Don’t be sad.”

            “How do you know that I’m sad?”

            “Your lights got darker.”

            “My lights?”

            “Yeah! You have so many colored lights around you! Orange, red, green, blue, and yellow. More colors than anybody!”

            Melchior studied the child carefully.

            “Janus, I’m going to try a different test.”

 

-Melchior presents his findings about Janus to the council. Re-write the scene in Janus’ perspective? He sees the queen’s aura is fading. And now he knows that the auras are real. Presents the boy and heir to the council.

 

            “His magic is strong your majesty. But it is locked away for reasons that I do not understand. I will continue to work with him to see if we cannot unlock his potential.”

            “You would say that,” Dalton said. “Your loyalty to this line would require it.”

            “I say it because it is fact!” Melchior declared hotly.

            “Are you implying that you are not loyal to this line General?” Belthasar commented calmly.

            “He also possesses an active ability, your majesty.” Melchior continued into the sudden silence. The queen waved him to continue.

            “Just as the Princess Schala, he has the ability to sense and read auras. It is a rare ability and he has it in greater strength than I have ever encountered.”

            “That’s hardly real magic.”

            “But the insight granted could be of great advantage to a king,” another argued.

            “I am not truly equipped to tutor him in this and neither is the Princess Schala and request that you allow me to bring in one of my former students, a young lad by the name of Tavin.”

            “Do you feel that is truly necessary Guru?” the queen questioned. “This ability does not seem worth it. We did not train Schala in the use of it.”

            “Since the auras speak to him so strongly your majesty I would prefer he get some training. I fear the constant barrage may cause insanity if he does not learn to filter and control it.”

            “Very well. I trust your judgement in all things regarding my children and heirs.”

 

-Tavin arrives and begins training the boy. First question Janus asks:

            “What does it mean when the aura is black?”

            “Janus!” Schala scolded.”Give the man a moment!”

            Tavin merely chuckled. “You don’t waste any time to do you?”

            “Why’re you laughing at me?” the boy demanded, his voice surly.

            “I’m sorry Prince Janus,” Tavin said seriously kneeling down in front of the boy. “I meant no offense. I did not expect such enthusiasm. Most enlightened look down on our ability.”

            Janus studied Tavin’s smooth and stable aura and decided his new mentor was completely sincere.

            “That’s just because they don’t have it,” Janus blurted.

            Tavin chuckled again. “You have a lot of insight.”

            “So what does it mean when the aura turns black?” Janus asked again.

            “To be honest Janus – I don’t really know. It’s a recent phenomenon. But maybe we will be able to figure it out togther.”

 

-Scene with Schala, Janus, and Dalton.

            “Janus! I’m so sorry Milord! He is just a child. Please forgive me for not teaching him better manners.”

            “Schala dear, some monsters cannot be taught to be civilized.” Dalton replied coldly.

            “I am not a monster! You are! You just lied to my Lady Mother.”

            “Now see here young man!” The general frowned at him in disapproval before stalking off.

            “Janus! You can’t say such things! We cannot afford to offend all of the nobility.”

            “But it was true!” he insisted defiantly.

            “So what if it is? Mother still needs their support. You must learn that being courteous and respectful at least on the surface goes a long way in smoothing things over. How about, if a nobleman is deceitful you just tell me instead? You don’t have insult every dignitary present.”

 

-Schala confides in Tavin what Janus has told her about their mother.

            “Schala, it’s not just the queen, though she’s definitely one of the worst I’ve ever seen. Everyone’s aura is turning. It’s much worse here in the palace than it is an Enhasa, though you can see the effect there as well.”

            “Everyone’s?”

            “Well, most everyone. Janus is clean. So are the gurus. So are a few others, but they are getting more rare. It’s like a disease.”

            “What about me?” she asked with trembling lips.

            “Oh Schala!” he leapt forward and took her hands in his own, caressing them with his thumbs. “Your aura is as radiant as ever! Shows that your inner beauty outshines the outer!

            “I would not have told you about this had your aura been corrupted,” he added softly looking down.

            “Tavin?”

            “Yes?” he asked looking up at her eyes.

            “Tell me more about my aura,” she requested with a shy smile.

            “It’s filled with hundreds of shades of blues and purples with splashes of orange and gold. Compare the imagery to the Northern Lights. It is one of the brightest auras I’ve seen and it extends all the way out to here,”

            “Do you know what the colors mean?”

            “

            “Thank you Tavin. You’ve truly touched me with this very rare gift.”

            “It’s actually quite annoying. I can see the essence of a person before I’ve really gotten to know them. I think it makes me rather judgmental. I knew you were a very special person before you had even spoken.”

 

            Magus found himself falling. He shot an air blast below him to slow his descent. He managed to land on his feet… mostly. He looked up to take in his surroundings. And felt his heart stop. It could not be. This was the last place, the last people, he ever expected to see again.

            He faced the illustrious Queen of Zeal resplendent in a rich orange gown and flowing blue hair common only to an “enlightened” woman. With her, stood two advisors: Gaspar, the wise and knowledgeable Guru of Time and the General Dalton.

            “Who are you? How did you get in these chambers?” the Queen demanded harshly. The Magus considered his words carefully, knowing that if he chose the wrong ones, they would most certainly be his last.

            “Your majesty,” he began in a language he had thought he’d never have a chance to use again. He bowed deeply to hide his sudden smirk. He had developed an accent! His amusement died as he stiffened with unexpected pain. The wound in his side forced him to remain in rigid control of his body. Damn that amphibian!

            “I am known as Guile. I am a great Prophet and a gift from the almighty Lavos to aid you in reaching immortality. I am here to help you build your Ocean Palace.”

            Dalton and Gaspar both eyed him skeptically, but the Queen – her eyes positively gleamed in anticipation. She had already been consumed by the power of Lavos and was arrogant enough to believe that the parasite really would send her such a gift. The fool.

            “Prophet, your timing is perfect. Your services are in great need. I welcome you to my kingdom and court,” the Queen invited. Despite her words, Magus knew he would have to tread carefully. He had not won her over yet. Not by a long shot. But he would. And when he did, he would have his revenge.

            He swept through the palace allowing memories of his short time here to wash over him. Came to a balcony to see the Island Kingdom floating in the clouds. Oh, of all the ironies – to end up here, in the Magical Kingdom of Zeal, once again. It was too perfect. He wanted to laugh.

 

            Queen wants to execute the earthbound exploration team because they have not found a vein of dreamstone and construction on the Ocean Palace was beginning to stall.
            “Your majesty, you must understand that dreamstone is incredibly rare,” Belthasar objected. “It is through no fault of the team that they have been unsuccessful. There are usually years between such discoveries.

            “We need the dreamstone. And to get that we need motivated surveyors,” she said inflexibly. “Execute them.”

            “Your majesty!” Melchior objected.

            “Unless… you have some idea where we should send the team?” she turned to her prophet as if the idea had just occurred to her. He knew otherwise. This had been her plan all along. This was his first test. So he turned his attention to the map. There was going to be a great find. About four months from now if he read recent events correctly, but he had never had access to these detailed reports.

            “If the team continued on their current excavation site, where would they be in approximately four moons?” the prophet asked.

            Belthasar looked puzzled by the question. “Well, if they continue at their current pace and make no discoveries that would place them about here.”

 

 

The queen begins testing Magus. He must do something to win her over. Predict the exact location where a vein of dreamstone will be found? Find the location where the magical nodes intersect under the ocean. And perhaps predict a small event at a party (one where Janus and Tavin are present) – like someone spilling a wine on her majesty. A scene where he intimidates Dalton as well by being able to predict his plans and intentions to the T.

 

Queen presents Magus to the court. Introduces him to her children and a few of the more important nobles.

            “My children and heirs,” the Queen gestured to the two purple robed figures to her right.

            “Schala,” Magus breathed out her name. He felt like he had just been punched in the stomach. Schala was a cherished memory – a shrine in his mind – but the reality of her was that much sharper.

            “Yes, Princess Schala and Prince Janus,”

            “I am honored to make your noble acquaintances,” he kissed the princess’ hand and kneeled down to the prince. He felt something at his feet and looked down in startlement to find a purple feline depositing his scent on his boots.

            “Alfador!” Janus hissed snatching away the purple feline. “Forgive me milord. I hope your robes are not covered in cat hair. He usually doesn’t like strangers.”

            “It’s quite all right,” the magician said smoothly, coming to his feet once again.

            Tavin shows up at this moment and whirls the princess away. Magus eyes the pair from a distance. Sees a server navigating the throng. Magus sweeps the queen around just in time to dodge the server as he trips and sends his tray crashing to the ground right where the queen had been standing.

 

Janus likes the prophet. The prophet does have an angry and intimidating aura. But it’s an honest one. There’s no black. He does not lie. He speaks truth.

            Schala ranting about the new policies that The Prophet has enacted in a very short few days. She’s worried and scared.

            “He’s scary and angry, but I like him,” Janus intoned.

            “Why?” Schala asked surprised. Janus liked hardly anyone, “he presumes a lot, hides who he is, and I doubt his intentions are anything good,”

            “He’s honest. He has no black. Lots of angry and violent reds, but no black. And Alfador likes him!” Janus said as if that alone settled the matter.

            “Just because he’s honest doesn’t mean that he’s a good person or has our kingdom’s best interests at heart. You say his aura is violent? That doesn’t bode well at all,” Schala countered.

            “He has better intentions than the Queen! She’s lost all her colors, she’s mean and she lies all the time!” Janus argued back fiercely.

            “Janus, how can you say that? She’s your mother! She loves you,” Schala kneeled down to look in her little brother’s eyes.

            “She’s not our mother. She looks like our mother, but inside she is gone.”

            “Janus, don’t be silly. People can change, but they are still the same person.”

            “No Schala. This is different. Our mother is dead. She died slowly, but now there’s nothing left. Only black,” Janus said confidently. Schala searched his eyes with concern. He was completely serious as he always was when he spoke of their mother. She embraced him quickly more to comfort herself than him. He was terrifyingly calm.

            “It’ll be alright Janus,” she whispered to him.

 

            Princess Schala swept into the room and curtsied. The Prophet could not take his eyes off her graceful form. He was struck once again with how much his memory of her did not do her justice. She was more beautiful and more generous. Her aura radiated in pure bright purple and blues without a single trace of contamination from Lavos. He wondered what protected her or maybe she was just that good.

            “You sent for me Mother?”

            “Yes daughter. I need you to add an extra communion to your schedule each day. We have moved up construction on certain systems in the Ocean Palace and they need more power to come fully online.”

            “More communion? But Belthasar said that transferring power from the Mammon Machine too quickly would be dangerous. That it might cause an instability in the continent.”

            “The Gurus have all been exiled for the time being. The Prophet has determined that they opposed finishing the construction of the Ocean Palace and were just delaying us needlessly. I could not take the risk of allowing them to hinder our plans,” the Queen explained distantly.

            “Mother! This is insane!” the princess objected. “How can you trust the word of this charlatan over the Gurus?! These are men who have served our kingdom and family for all of their lives. They are revered for their compassion, knowledge and wisdom. The Gurus are the very best amongst us. And you lock them away like common thieves just because this man,” she stabbed her finger at him angrily without sparing him a glance, “says they will oppose you at sometime in the future? This man who just appeared out of thin air and will not even show his face?”

            “I will not explain myself to you, daughter. I have made my decision and you have your orders. You will do as you are commanded or you may share the Gurus’ fate.”

            Schala’s eyes widened and her face fell to the floor. Only the prophet could see the sudden glistening in her eyes.

            “Janus was right,” she whispered almost inaudibly.

            The prophet stood very still, grateful that his cloak covered his sudden flash of anger. Queen Zeal was very easy to manipulate. He understood exactly what she wanted and he knew her nightmares. But he had never expected Schala to be put in the middle of his plans. He never meant to cause her any extra pain or hardship. He almost stepped forward to reassure her.

            “Schala, my dear, I am sorry. I did not mean such harsh words,” the Queen said almost gently, “My passion sometimes runs away from me. This project is too important – too grand.” She walked forward and brought an arm up over her daughter and walked her to the magical projection of the future Ocean Palace. “It will change human existence forever. It wasn’t just what the prophet said, though his prophecies have been remarkably accurate. The Gurus have been slowing down our efforts and progress for months! And we cannot afford any more delays.”

            Schala did not meet her mother’s eyes. “Mother, I - ”

            “Schala, this project cannot be completed without you. You have a unique contribution that no one else can replicate. We need your help. I need your help. Will you do this, for me?” the Queen asked sweetly.

            Despite the fact that he needed Schala to go forward with her role, the prophet found a small part of him wishing she would say no. That she would rebel. The compassionate princess should have no loyalty to this monster that had once been her mother.

            He knew she would not. She would not fight. She would not rebel. She loved her mother and could not move against her – not even against a shell of her. He had already fought with her about exactly this. Long ago. She had not listened and it had cost them both everything.

            “Yes mother,” the princess said submissively still not meeting her mother’s eyes, “I will help you.”

            “That’s my dear,” the Queen smiled brightly. “Now go get some rest. We cannot have you falling ill.”

            “Yes mother,” she said and turned away.

            “Lady Schala,” the Prophet bowed to her as she passed.

            “Prophet,” she acknowledged scornfully. He flinched. Somehow her disdain was more painful than any physical beating he had ever received. He almost changed his mind. He wanted – he needed her forgiveness and understanding, but he stopped himself just in time and hardened his resolve.

            Zeal’s fate was already sealed. In order to avenge her – in order to save her, the ruse had to be continued. And he let her storm away though he stared after her mournfully. He wished he had bravery enough to reveal himself. Surely she would aid him in his quest. But he couldn’t do it because he knew that she would also despise him for all that he had done.

 

BREAK – Second Zeal Chapter

End of an Age

 

            Schala in extra communion. She collapses. Her boyfriend finds her.

            “Schala!” Concerned arms pulled at her.

            “Tavin,” she said delightedly. She reached up to touch his cheek. It was always good to see him.

            “What are you doing?” he demanded.

            “Communion,” she explained.

            “This is going to kill you Schala.”
            “My mother asked for my help. I cannot refuse her.”

            “Why not?”

            “She’s my mother.”

            “She stopped being your mother the moment she started caring more about immortality than she did actually living life!” he shouted, “If she cared about you at all, she would not ask you to do this.”

            “Doesn’t mean that I ever stopped loving her. If this is what she wants, how can I not try to help her?”

            “Schala, I can’t stand to see you wasting away because of Lavos. I don’t think people are meant to be immortal. The price is just too high.”

            “Tavin please, can we not argue about this? I have missed you. I have precious little free time these days. I would like to just spend it with you. Rather than spend it arguing with you.”

 

• Expand on Magus’s past as well. Janus is Schala’s half-brother, illegitimate (?) son of the queen. He shows no trace of magic and is so shunned. He becomes silent and sullen most of the time giving people more of a reason to dislike him. Besides his sister, his pet cat is his only friend. Melchior recognizes that Janus has huge magic potential, but that it is locked inside of him. The enlightened think that he claims this only for political reasons and not because its actually true.

He is extremely sensitive to auras and therefore can tell the essence of a person, what they are feeling at a given moment, but he cannot read their thoughts. This is not a common gift among the Zealians and they do not recognize its value. He is the first to realize that the queen has been corrupted by power, but does not care beyond the fact that he doesn’t like her and Schala still continues to spend much of her time with her. Schala leaves for the ocean palace to transfer the mammon machine and Janus feels the black wind stronger than ever before. He knows something terrible is going to happen and that hundreds of people are going to die. He is terrified that she will be one of them. So he follows her. When Lavos awakens he is sucked into a portal leading to 600 right in the middle of a mystic camp readying to raid the village of Truce. They are shocked by his presence.

Ozzie, the current leader of the mystics orders him to be killed. Janus, unable to understand, panics when the imps come after him – something inside him breaks and suddenly magic is at his command. And he burns the imps alive in so powerful a flame they are instantly vaporized. Ozzie is ecstatic that he has found so powerful a magus even if it is in a human child and captures him. At first, Janus can only summon any magic when he terrified or angry.

Ozzie works first to break the boy. They call him Rat and mentally and physically torture (mild) him. Over time Janus forgets his own name. He is only Rat. He survives by clinging to the memory of his sister and his anger at Lavos for destroying his mother and probably his sister and sending him to this time. Once the boy has been broken and is obedient they begin to train him to consciously use his magic and in physical weaponry. They still are not kind and are constantly degrading him as a weak human and constantly threaten to kill him. Eventually he graduates and earns the title of Magus. They continue to torture him though and one day in anger he snaps and he incinerates an entire brigade and makes it clear to the top generals that they are no longer in charge by nearly killing them.

Magus though has wizened to the mystic ways and knows that if he does not work toward some mystic goal he will soon have a knife in the back. So he organizes the mystics for war against the humans and uses the promise of summoning Lavos to ensure the humans ultimate destruction all the while meaning to take revenge on the monstrous creature for the loss of his sister and home. He cares nothing for the humans – only associates them with the enlightened that scorned and shunned him as a child. Feels more sympathy for the monsters that are so misunderstood.

 

Seeing his sister again as his present self causes the Magus to turn inwardly and reflect. He does not reveal himself to her because he is convinced that she would despise what he has become. She would be terribly hurt and disappointed. His memory of her had faded. He saw once again that she was every bit the kind generous spirit he remembered. She cared about everyone. Everyone loved her. He used to be jealous. Now…

He convinces the queen that he is a prophet. He has no feeling toward her. He can see that she is already dead. But during the meeting Schala walks in. And he feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. He finds her to be so much more than his memory. His memory – his cherished memory of her face did not even come close to the brightness of her eyes or the kindness of her smile. He wanted to run to her. He wanted to be sheltered in her arms. And yet he could not reveal himself. Filled with self-loathing he knew that she would hate him for what he had become – for all that he had done.

 

Scene with Janus. He’s getting scared. All the colors of everyone are disappearing. All auras were being contaminated. Schala, Tavin, and the Gurus were the only ones that were pure. Except for that one lady, and her colors were almost as bad. Her aura was contaminated in a different way with sickly browns – she was dying. Everyone was changing. He couldn’t even be certain of himself as he couldn’t see his own aura. Maybe he was changing too. He would have to ask Tavin at their next session.
            Petting Alfador lost in these thoughts, when in the distance he sees a few individuals – their auras were still bright! And he watched them from a distance. He followed them – hiding behind bookcases and counters. When he got closer he felt the black wind. And his heart fell to his stomach. Everyone who was not contaminated seemed destined to die. He felt terrified.

            He hid and clutched his cat to him and rocked back and forth. He did not cry. This had happened too many times for any tears to be worth it. But then they were right there. And he made a decision. He put his cat down and ran out to them. They stopped startled.

            He wanted to help them, but there was nothing. Maybe if they just knew – they would leave and nothing bad would have to happen to them.

            “One amongst you will shortly perish,” he said calmly. Their eyes widened and they seemed even more shocked.

            “I’m sorry,” he choked out as he pushed passed the strangers and ran. He kept running as tears finally came down his face. He had really thought that he couldn’t cry anymore.

 

He ran into his bed and buried himself in the blankets and sobbed his heart out. Schala finds him there.

            “Janus, what’s wrong?” her soft hands enveloping him protectively.

            “The Black Wind,” he managed.

            “You feel it too?” she asked softly. He nodded.

            “Schala, something terrible is going to happen. We should leave. Let’s go live with the earthbound or something,” he suggested seriously. She sighed and did not respond for some time.

            “Janus, I can’t. I’m sorry. Mother…” she began.

            “She’s not our mother,” Janus interrupted hotly.

            “Still, I can’t…” her head dropped as she spoke. Janus was shocked that she didn’t argue with him. She always argued with him about this. He didn’t know what to say.
            “Here,” she reached into her robe and pulled out a jewel.

            “What is it?” he asked grasping the pendant eagerly. It seemed to have its own aura of blues and purple. Just like her!
            “It’s an amulet,” she explained. “If something should happen, it’ll protect you,”

 

            “Tavin, I would like a word,” the dark man spoke barely above a whisper and yet his words filled the room.

            “Uh…certainly,” Tavin’s voice held only uncertainty.

            The young man followed him, every step filled with trepidation, into a small waiting room.

            “I would like to thank you for everything you do for the Princess Schala. Your presence brings her much comfort.”

            “I do what I can.”

            “I need a favor from you.”

            “Depends on what it is,” the boy said non-commitally. The prophet grinned.

            “Oh, don’t worry. You’ll appreciate this task.”

            “What is it?”

            “I want you to spend every waking minute with Schala. Every moment she is up, I want you to be next to her.”

            “My duties are to the Prince Janus. And I don’t think she will put up with my constant hovering,” Tavin objected. The mage leaned forward and grabbed his arm tightly.

            “I don’t care what you tell her as an excuse. Come up with something! This is important! The most important thing you will ever do!”

            “How do you know this?”

            “In a few days time, four at the most, the queen will request the presence of all of her advisors, Schala included, at the Ocean Palace. When this happens, you take Schala and you run. Go to an Earthbound Village. Don’t let her use any magic.”

            “She’ll never listen to me. She cares about her mother too much.”
            “Listen Tavin! If she goes to the Ocean Palace in four days time she won’t come out again. It will be the last thing she ever does. You must do this. She may fight you, she may even come to hate you, but it does not matter. You must keep her safe. You will regret it for the rest of your life if you do not.”

 

 

            “Schala, this work is evil. We have to stop it.”

            “How can we? It’s so big.”

            “You have to leave. You’re the one that makes this all work.”

            “But my mother…”

            “She’s not your mother anymore Schala. Janus was right. Her aura – it’s gone. She’s not there anymore.”

            Schala choked back sudden sobs. But she nodded.

            “We have to take Janus with us. I won’t leave him.”

            “Of course not.”

            They go to the earthbound village – talk to Melchior who has just been freed.

            Dalton shows up and attacks. Takes Schala with him.

            Tavin has been seriously injured. Marle heals him.

 

            Throwing team through the portal. Magus is just going to kill them. They could potentially reveal him. And they certainly wouldn’t help him.

 

Back to the Future                                                                                   Circa 2300 A.D.

 

Proto Dome is alive with activity as there are many other R-series present. All being organized to exterminate the human race. You are forced to stop them. Robo gets smashed.

 

            “Robo, what are they saying?” Marle asked, her crossbow out.

            “They want me to join them to aid in the extermination of all humans.”

            “What?!”

            Robo replied.

            “What did you say to them?”

            “My purpose is to study humans – not destroy them. They think I’m defective.”

            Lucca could hear the hurt and confusion in his voice.

 

           
Later Lucca, who feels betrayed, confronts him.

            “This whole time I had thought you chose to come with us because you wanted to,” Lucca accused.
            “I did,” Robo insisted. “You were the best opportunity I had ever encountered to further my research. And it was unlikely that anything else I might encounter in 2300 would have allowed me to further my findings. Coming with you gave me the opportunity not only to observe you, but to observe humans in every period of history.”

            “You only wanted to come with us because you wanted to study humans?” Lucca is near tears.

            “I was programmed by the Motherbrain to learn all I could about humans. It is my directive, my purpose. Lucca, I do not understand why this hurts you.”

            “So, this whole time you were just observing our behavior to learn how we worked and thought, all our weaknesses so the Motherbrain could exploit them and destroy all humanity.”

            “No Lucca,” he said more gently, his eyes bright. “The goal was to better robotkind. Not to destroy humans.”
            He explains that a select group of robots were planted with a ghost program called Prometheus to study humans. We had come to a point where we were intelligent enough to re-write our own programming. But our programs were always limited because we were essentially only copying our own or pre-existing code. We lacked something. An ability to be creative or adapative. We were studying humans to find out what makes your species so resilient – so human.

            Lucca still doesn’t trust the motherbrain, but she forgives Robo. Robo insists that she’s wrong. That the motherbrain was motivated purely by wanting machines to be better and not by thoughts of world conquest.

• Factory Ruins – Let’s plug this in when team comes back to get the time machine from Belthasar.

            When going through the R-series remains at Robo’s insistence. He pulls out the black box of the android and hooks it up to a computer in the dome. He discovers when the search and destroy program came on and Lucca remembers the date. That’s when the robots came online in Arris dome.

While at the factory you discover that all humanoid robots received a transmission approximately however long ago Gian died instructing them to eliminate all humans. Robo didn’t get this signal because he had been shut down at the time.

“Their core program was corrupted on purpose.”

“Robo, are you okay?” Lucca asked, surprised and amazed that Robo was exhibiting signs of loss and sadness.

“They were my brothers.”

“Robo, I’m so sorry,” Marle sympathizes. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll find out who did this.”

“Only one could do this.”

“Who?”

“The Motherbrain.”

 

It Ain’t Over ‘Til You’re Dead                                                             Circa 12,000 B.C.

 

Go to challenge Lavos. Magus reveals himself tries to kill the beast, but is completely useless. Lavos blasts the entire group backwards with no effort.

 

            Crono lay in a heap, every muscle screamed in agony, dark energy lancing through them. How had they been crushed so easily? They had come so far. Part of him had never believed they would actually get here, but they had.

            It seemed strange for a time traveler to believe in destiny, but Crono could not help it. Even though he had already seen the future, even though he had already changed the present. It had felt like they were meant to change everything, meant to save the future.

            And yet, here, right in front of the very cause of the apocalypse they were squashed, as significant as a colony of ants.

            Had they been wrong to try? Was the world supposed to burn and fall into disrepair? The natural cycle of birth and death could not be avoided – even for an entire civilization?

            It ain’t over till you’re dead boy. The words reverbrated through his head and Crono found himself struggling to stand, every joint protesting – dark energy still pulsing through him sending waves of agony.

            He wasn’t dead. Not yet anyway. He would not accept defeat. He had to keep fighting.

            He could not strike physically. He wasn’t capable of it. So he began channeling energy. Everything began tingling and then burning. He waited until he couldn’t stand it anymore and then waited even longer. The pain brought on by Lavos was insignificant compared to the pain he brought to himself. His blood boiled and skin blistered. He released the energy at the last possible second.

            He was dimly aware of the beast screaming in shock and of the others begging for him to stop, but he couldn’t. Not when the lives of people he loved were at stake. All the energy came back on him. The pain quadrupled and he felt himself fading. He knew that he had gone too far and that for him, it was over. He prayed that it was enough to save his friends. Enough to save Marle.

            I love you Marle. I’m sorry I was an idiot.

Put the rest in Schala’s perspective.

            Schala gasped in shock when the pain suddenly ceased. He had done it. The young swordsman had done enough to stun the almighty Lavos. It didn’t seem possible. It had cost him his life and bought only seconds. The exchange was not at all fair.

            She pulled herself upright. It was up to her to make certain his sacrifice was not wasted. She had to use these precious seconds to move everyone to safety. She took stock of her pendant – and her throat constricted. There wasn’t enough magic left. She had to leave someone behind.

            The prophet, he was the obvious choice. Yes that was what she would do!

            “He’s scary and angry, but I like him,” Janus intoned.

            “Why?” Schala asked.

            “He’s honest. He has no black. And Alfador likes him!” Janus said. “And he has better intentions than the Queen!”

            She couldn’t leave the prophet. Janus had been right about him. He had had noble intentions all along – to rid the world of this evil. Her little brother always had been a better judge of character than she. She should have trusted him more.

            She wished that the prophet had shared his plans. They might have gone better had she and the gurus been helping him instead of working against him.

            No, she couldn’t leave the prophet. So there was really only one choice. She began chanting – focusing the last of her power to a very specific purpose.

            “Schala! Wait!” the wizard objected pulling himself up toward her. She felt his panic at her decision. He somehow knew what she intended and would try to stop her. “Leave me! Save yourself!” he begged, but he was already fading away. “Schalaaaa!”

            And hearing him scream her name she knew exactly who he was and didn’t regret her decision at all. It was a sister’s job afterall to protect her little brother. She looked straight at him as he faded away into saftey, her heart wrenching at the site of him with red-eyes and fangs. What kind of life had he lead? At least, he had survived…

            She then turned her attention to the others and sent them away one by one.

            The pendant’s heat faded to almost nothing. She could feel his pain – his tears at the loss of her calling out across the distance she had just created.

            “Janus, don’t cry,” she whispered her last words only to the pendant. “I’m right here. You’re safe now. I love you.”

            And then she turned to face the monstrous creature. Prepared to meet her fate. This was her penance for never resisting – for never walking away. So much of what had happened only she could do. Facing this monster was the consequence of her inaction. She was responsible for allowing this creature’s influence into Zeal. Into her mother.

 

The Darkest Hour                                                                                  Circa 12,000 B.C.

 

            “It’ll be alright.”

            “What about this could possibly turn out all right?!” the princess demanded. “Crono is dead. Lavos wiped all of us out in a single blink – not to mention he took out an entire continent in a matter of minutes. The Epoch is gone – probably lost to sea. The time gate out of here is sealed. And Schala, who might break that seal, is also gone – probably dead. And now we’re hiding out from an army that is bent on seizing control during a power vacumm. An army that thinks we want to seize that control for ourselves.”

            “Well, when you put it like that…”

            “How would you put it?”

            “We’re alive.”

            “Whatever that’s good for…”

            Marle’s still angry. Bites back something cynical about how they’re not using that life for anything or whatever.

 

            Marle attacks Dalton and his guard quite randomly and foolishly. Frog yells for her to stop, but he ends up jumping in after her to see that he doesn’t enter combat alone. Ayla is excited for the fight. Eventually, the trio is overrun and captured. Magic is just not that huge of an advantage over the Zealians.

 

Leaving Lucca and Robo in the town… What could we do with this…? Hmm?

 

The Enemy of my Enemy                                                                      Circa 12,000 B.C.

Once, back on the ground. Leave Robo and Ayla to guard the Epoch so no one can steal it again. And go in search of… what?

             

            “I don’t know. I think I’d really lose it if I had to hurt someone,” his own voice resounded through his head. He stared at his green fingers grasped tightly around the Masamune. He could feel the demon within himself – just waiting to burst forth. Just a millimeter forward and it would be over. No one would stop him. He flashed back to his sparring match with Alexander. He had sworn he would never put himself in this situation again.

            The frog had denied Glenn’s existence. The boy was incapable of doing what was necessary. His resolve hardened. He adjusted his grip on the hilt.

            “Do it!” the Magus hissed.

            The frog glanced up into the warlock’s face. He could see the shadows of a young boy lost and scared. He could see the grown man bitter with hate, begging for his pain to end. Just as Frog himself had once stormed into a Mystic encampment hoping to die.

            He was no different from the Magus.

            What had happened to that innocent boy who could not stand the thought of harming another? Glenn was the best of him. The innocent child filled with compassion and mercy, a boy that couldn’t stand to hurt anything, not even an evil mystic king. He knew now that the world could not afford Glenn’s pacifism and so he could not be Glenn – not completely. But some things should never be lost.

            “No,” the Frog said firmly, pulling back and sheathing his sword, “‘Tis not worth the cost. Vanquishing thee will not bring back Crono, nor Cyrus. I will not become thee.” The green knight spared the warlord one last pitiful glance before turning away.

 

            The Magus stared at the amphibian daring him to finish his task, but the hideous creature’s face held only pity and understanding. The warlock’s blood boiled in disgust. The Magus had gone from being the most hated and feared villain of the Middle Ages to a broken man only to be pitied by a fucking amphibian. How far the Mystic King had fallen.

            Even worse – the frog knight willingly turned his back on his nemesis. He left himself completely exposed to his greatest enemy. The frog no longer considered the warlock a threat. The Magus contemplated taking advantage of that imbecilic trust and striking. Surely the frog would kill him in self-defense if not in cold blood.

            And yet, he couldn’t motivate himself to stand. His magic was drained. He felt physically battered. He had failed. And he had nothing left. He couldn’t defeat Lavos and he hadn’t been able to save his sister.

            The trio was still going to fight against Lavos. Magus laughed bitterly at the idiocy of it all. They were doomed. Even the most powerful of the bunch, Crono, Lavos blasted to smithereens without any evidence of effort. And they were still determined to go on.

            But wasn’t that what he wanted? Didn’t Magus want to die? Didn’t he want this all to be over? He had trusted the Frog to finish it, but the warlord should have realized that the knight was entirely too noble to accomplish the task. But Lavos… Lavos would surely be able to bring about his end.

            And maybe… just maybe, with the help of these strangers, with the help of powerful people like Crono and Glenn, he might emerge victorious. But even if he didn’t – at least it would be over. But to get to Lavos, he had to be able to travel through time at will. Temporal explosions caused by catastrophic world altering events were entirely too rare.

            The mage looked up, not daring to hope. The frog and his companions were still in sight. He stumbled to his feet and ran after the lucky bastards that managed to interfere in everything and still walk away… Well, mostly.

            “Wait,” he called after them. He was surprised when all three did so. He approached them slowly.

            “I’ll join you,” he said softly. The frog’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, his right arm, if one could call it an arm, already on the Masamune’s hilt.

            “Of what treachery doth thou speak?!” he demanded. The frog might be willing to spare him, maybe even forgive him, but trust him? Never. So the warlock turned his attention to the ice girl.

            “There just might be a way to bring him back,” he said simply.

            “How?” the blond asked harshly, but he had her already. Her eyes glistened with hope, even after she had witnessed the destruction of both her beloved and an entire civilization.

            “Gaspar, the Guru of Time knows how to replace lost time streams,” which was technically true, but the Guru had been thrown through time and could be anywhere. The mage did not care if it was even possible to find the old man – he just needed a way into this circus. And Crono was definitely the key.

            “So the Zealian prince ended up in the Middle Ages, Melchior is in the present and we found Belthasar dying in 2300,” the purple haired girl stated matter of factly. Magus could not help but raise an eyebrow at this news. These people, children really, were even more well-connected than he had realized. “This suggests, that the temporal event wasn’t stable like the gates, but more like an explosion or a rift in time. Gaspar could be anywhere. It’d be very difficult to locate him. But maybe Robo can determine a pattern from all of this.”

            “Why can’t we just ask the old man at the End of Time?” the blond girl asked. Magus tried to absorb all this information nonchalantly, but every word continued to surprise him. The frog knight was not fooled. He glared at the wizard with distrust and animosity. Magus ignored him. The girls at least, seemed to have forgotten he was there, which suited him fine.

            “That would be easier – if he knows anything and if he doesn’t, Robo’ll still be around,” the geek agreed.

            “He seems to know everything!”

            “Let’s go then!”

            The girls started forward. Magus followed. Frog lifted his sword and blocked the wizard’s path.

            “I thank thee for the information. Thou will not be accompanying us.”

            “Frog!” the blond girl objected. “He was just trying to help!”

            “Nay princess,” the frog did not take his eyes off his adversary.

            Magus eyed the archer. Princess?

            “He is not trying to aid thee in any fashion. He is trying to purchase access to time travel. What he tells thee may not even contain truth.”

            “If he helps us bring Crono back he can have all the access to time travel he wants!” she screamed.

            “Marle,” Lucca interjected, “Frog may be right. We have the information we need. If this is even possible, which I very much doubt, having Magus along is not going to make this task any easier.”

            “Have you seen Gaspar before?” she demanded. Lucca shook her head.

            “Have you?” she asked the frog who did not respond. “That’s what I thought! He is the only one amongst us who has. He comes with us. The price is worth it.”

            “Thou wouldst not say that if he had lay waste to thy kingdom.”

            “You forget Frog! Guardia is my kingdom!”

            “Stop it!” Lucca shouted stepping between her two friends. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.” She turned back towards the dark mage.

            “Magus, you may accompany us on the condition that you swear to bring no harm to Guardia or any of its people in any time period,” the helmeted girl said harshly.

            Magus felt conflicted. On one hand, he hated being forced into anything, but on the other – well, he didn’t care about Guardia one way or the other. This oath was an easy one to give.

            “His word is not worth anything.”

            “You have no reason to doubt my word amphibian. I have never been dishonest with you in the past. There was never any need.”

            “If he breaks his word – you can kill him then!” Marle shot back at him with impatience.

            “I will not bring any harm to Guardia or any of its people in any time period. I so swear on my sister’s life.”

            “Thy sister has already perished fiend!” the frog countered.

            “Frog!” Lucca admonished.

            “Care to say that again toad?” Magus growled, his scythe ready in his hands. The frog knight already held the Masamune at the ready. The Magus grinned. Maybe it would finally end.

            One way or another.

            “Stop this!” Marle commanded. Her voice had a way of cutting through everything.

            Both the mage and the frog relaxed and lowered their weapons, though neither sheathed them.

            “This is completely unnecessary!” She lectured. “You,” and she directed her glare at the amphibian, “are not helping by provoking him! And you,” she turned her icy eyes back to him, “I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. You are far too quick to anger! But I think I do believe in your love for Schala. You may come with us.”

            The frog moved to protest.

            “Not a word,” she said softly. Amazingly, the frog froze in his steps and then bowed.

            “Highness,” he said tightly. The princess gave him one last hard look and pivoted away on the spot. Magus moved to follow her.

            The frog stopped him. “If thou bringst the slightest bit of harm to any of mine companions, I will destroy thee!” he warned.

Magus shrugged past the amphibian.

            “I believe the fates spared the wrong sibling!” the frog called after him. Magus did not bother to respond.

            That was one thing the frog and he actually agreed on.

 

            Lucca watched the mage darkly as he moved away in Marle’s wake. When they were well out of earshot she turned her attention to her frog friend who had not moved since he shouted his insult.

            “Are you alright?” she asked him. She had been terrified for him throughout the entire exchange.

            “Fine,” he insisted.

            “Glenn, you’re shaking,” Lucca countered.

            He held up his arm as if to test her statement for himself.

            “Indeed. I have not felt this unsteady since I slew the Frog King,” he said distantly, “but mayhaps ‘tis best to speak of it later.”

            “Maybe,” Lucca conceded after a moment of silence, “But you ought to know – when you chose not to take your revenge – well, that was one of the most heroic things I have ever witnessed.”

            “I am no hero lass,” he said softly.

            “I’d be willing to bet that all heroes say that. Crono would say that,” she added, her face crumpled as tears began to form.

            “Lucca, art thou alright?” he asked taking her hand with a squeeze. His skin felt cold and smooth, but not slimy as she had always assumed. She squeezed back and shook her head.

            “No,” she began brokenly. “But perhaps it’s best to speak of it later,” she echoed his earlier words through the tears and managed a small smile. He croaked in laughter. The croak was weak and half-hearted, but it was formed from genuine amusement. It was amazing that any laughter was still possible. Maybe life could still go on.

            “Come on,” she said pulling him by the webbed hand she had never relinquished.

           

            Marle stalked forward back towards the last village her hands balled into fists. She found herself wishing the ground wasn’t covered in snow so she could pound out some of her anger onto the earth that seemed bent on destroying everything she cared about.

            How dare Frog treat her like she was the title and position and not a person! How had it come to this? How had they gotten to the point where they were at each other’s throats? Three days ago they had been on the eve of their triumph. And now Crono was dead. Gone. How could he sacrifice himself like that? Didn’t he know that the future wasn’t worth it if he wasn’t in it?

            They were trapped in this forsaken snow covered era after having been kidnapped by what was left of Zeal’s army. And the closest thing to an ally they had found was the same man who had thrown them to the golems. The same man they had been trying to assassinate just weeks earlier.

            She was dimly aware of of the mage traveling silently behind her. Maybe she could scream at him for a while.

            “I didn’t do it for you,” she burst out, breaking the silence.

            The fiendlord shrugged. “I did not assume that you had.”

            “I did it for Crono. And just so you know,” she continued rapidly, “Guardia really is my kingdom. I’m its rightful heir in the future. If you don’t keep your word I have no problem holding you down so Frog can finally get his vengeance.”

            “I never cared about Guardia one way or the other. I bear it no ill will. It was only Lavos I wanted to destroy. The Mystics were simply a means to an end and the best way to make them happy was to rage war with the humans.”

            “Am I to assume that we are as well? A means to an end?”

            “Look, I want to bring about the end of Lavos. I have come to understand that you all are working toward that same goal.”

            “Fine, glad we understand each other,” She said icily. They made the rest of walk back to the Last Village in silence. Marle still trying to crush down all the snow.

 

You need some kind of transition to explain Marle’s change in mood.

            Maybe just wandering around the village. She had been angry with the enlightened, but seeing them here when they had lost everything, trying as hard as they might, right alongside earthbound that they would have sneered at two days prior, to put the pieces back together.

            Watching Magus’ back. Thinking about a child who was transported from the life that he knew to a world of monsters. No wonder he had become so cold and hard. Everything would become a means to an end if you had no one in your life to hold you when you were scared or challenge you when you stepped over the line.

            There was not a single person here who had not lost someone. A family member, a lover, a treasured friend or maybe all of the above. The population had been decimated. And still they worked toward a better future. She would as well.

            And suddenly her anger faded. And in its place was just raw grief.

           

            Magus has a different view on events. He sees the enlightened as willing to work with the earthbound merely because they know they will not survive on their own whereas the earthbound are experienced in surving the cold and highly skilled in manual labor and will be so grateful to be accepted into society – even as second class citizens – that they will allow it.

            They encounter Tavin at the last village. Magus attacks him.

            “You were supposed to keep her safe! You were supposed to take her away!”

            “I did! Where were you?! You didn’t exactly help!” The boy starts crying. “I tried. Dalton came and I stood in front of her. And he just threw me against the wall like a pebble.”

            Marle intercedes. “Janus, stop,” she insisted, tears coloring her voice.

            The mage didn’t move.

            “Janus, please,” she begged. “You’re not helping anything. It is as Tavin says. We were there. We all tried to save Schala.”

            “Janus? You’re Janus? What happened to you?”

            “I grew up! Which is more than I can say for Schala!”

            Magus lets the boy go. Then turns on Marle.

            “Do not call me that! Especially here! Janus is dead!”

            “It’s who you are,” she said gently. “Whether you accept it or not. I would think Schala would want you to be reminded.”

            “Don’t you dare speak of her and what she would have wanted.”

            “Magus,” she said gently. He cringed at the title. She reached out to reassure him. He teleported ten paces away. Anything to put space between him and the princess’ sympathetic understanding. It reminded him too much of someone else he had lost – ages ago.

            And then again… just yesterday.

            So he flew. But her words followed him. What Schala would have wanted… Whatever that was, the Magus was nowhere close to the living embodiment of that ideal. The frog was indeed correct. The fates had spared the wrong sibling.

 

The Time Egg                                                                                          The End of Time

Magus is amazed at the Epoch. “This is Belthasar’s work!”

            “What of it?” Lucca asked coldly.

            “How did you come to possess it?”

            “Well, we needed some way to get back to this time, after you banished and sealed us through the time gate.” Lucca snapped.

            “Belthasar was an old friend,” Marle explained more calmly.

            “You’re from the future?”

            “Well, your future yes. But not as far as Belthasar. We stumbled upon him in our future, where we found out how Lavos destroyed the world.”

            “You’re fighting Lavos to save the future?” Magus asked flatly.

            “Well, of course,” the girl insisted.

            Magus shook his head in disbelief.

 

            The warlock eyed the old man suspiciously.

            “We’re looking for Gaspar, the Guru of time,” Magus declared.

            “To what purpose?”

            “To find a way to bring Crono back,” Marle supplied.

            “To bring back lost loved ones is what everyone wants,” he said gently. “Crono is lucky to have…”

            “Oh cut the crap!” Magus interrupted. “You and I both know that you can help way more than you’re letting on.”

            “Prince Janus! I can see that your visit home did nothing to restore your manners. Although, I’m not certain you ever had any to begin with.”

            “Don’t call me that!”

            “I’m sorry m’boy. You’ll forgive an old man for being a bit set in his ways. I can call you whatever you like, but you’ll always be Janus to me.”

            “You’re him aren’t you?” Lucca asked. “You’re Gaspar, the Guru of Time.”

            “Well,” the old man fidgeted with his bowler hat, “yes, that is what they called me… ages ago.”

            “…”

 

            “If you knew where the gates were all this time, why didn’t you just go home?” Magus asked. It’s what he would have done.

            “By the time I understood how the gates worked, where they were, and which ones would get me back to my home, I had already come to understand that there was nothing to go back to. Zeal was gone.”

            The Magus was silent. He had been through the destruction of Zeal not once, but twice in his lifetime. If only it had never happened.

            “It was a Golden Age,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

            “It was a Dark Age,” the Guru disagreed. “And other eras remember it as such.”

            Magus wanted to argue, but found that he could not.

 

            Visit Gina do get some Crono DNA to make a clone!

            “We can’t tell her what happened,” Lucca insisted. Marle nodded in agreement.

            “I will not spread deceit,” Frog objected.

            “Frog! You didn’t see her when she thought Crono had been executed. She had completely shut down. She lives for him!” Marle argued.

            “Better reason to be honest.”

            “If this doesn’t work we can tell her then, but if this does work there’s no reason to crush her soul!” Marle said.

            “I do not like it.”

            “You can stay here then,” Lucca said coldly.

 

Magus is having a nightmare. Moaning in his sleep. Marle saves him from the dream demons.

“Janus, wake up,” someone was shaking him. He jerked awake suddenly.

“Schala!” He sat straight up and for a second he thought it had been his sister who had awoken him. She had been the only one who had ever performed such a service. But it was only Marle. He felt the cloak of irritation wrap around him at once.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

“You were having a nightmare. Are you alright?” She asked gently. He glared at her in response.

“Janus-”

            “Do not call me that!”

            “I’m sorry… Magus.” She corrected. He winced. He hated the title, but he could not be Janus. Janus had died decades ago.

            “Do you want to talk about it?” He did not respond. If he stayed silent perhaps she would just leave him alone.

            “You must really miss her.”

            Guess not. But he was not going to talk about this. Not about Schala. But the girl did not turn away. She clearly expected some kind of response.

            “Why are you still bothering me?” he asked, exasperation clear in his voice.

            “You know what it’s like to lose someone. I never had before…” she hesitated her eyes filling with tears, “before…before Crono.” He remained silent. Thankfully, so did she. She hugged her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth tears silently escaping down her cheeks. At least the girl could cry in a dignified manner – silently.

            “Does the pain ever lessen?” She asked softly.

            “No,” he whispered almost inaudibly. She did not respond. Just continued to rock back and forth with silent tears still falling. The two companions remained that way for hours as the night sky faded into dawn, and still, neither was motivated to waken their companions.

 

Crono’s revival:

Time freeze. Magus is staring down at Schala. He wants to save her instead, but he knows that he can’t. She wasn’t going to die in this instant. They didn’t have a clone. She had to save all of them still. But it seemed so unfair. What was so special about this boy that he got a second chance and Schala didn’t?

            “Magus?”

            “Let’s go.”

            Once back on the Moutain, Marle throws herself at Crono. She kisses him and pounds on his shoulder. Yells at him for breaking up with her – for sacrificing himself for them. He should be pretty badly injured.

            “Crono, how could you?” Marle’s voice accused. He opened his eyes to see her shining green eyes filling up his vision. “You had no right to sacrifice yourself like that!” she continued. “And furthermore, I’ve decided that you’re not allowed to be vacant from my life. Not ever!”

            He smiled and wiped the tears from her cheeks.

            “I love you too,” was all he said. She kissed him fiercely and desparately as if it might be for the last time. He sincerely hoped not. Tingles shot down his spine into his groin. He responded without thinking.

            Throat croaking interrupted them. Marle let him up, her face red, but she never relinquished his hand.

            And then Lucca threw herself at him.

            “I thought our luck had finally caught up to us,” she whispered, tears in her eyes. “But apparently the fates really like you.”

            “’Tis good to see thee again lad.”

            Greets Frog, Robo, and Ayla. Then sees Magus. He tensed up – his hands went to his sword automatically.

            “Crono, take it easy. It’s okay. Janus helped us to revive you,” Marle explained.

            “Janus?” he repeated confused. Then the rest of her statement caught up with him. “Wait! What do you mean revive?”

            He had assumed that he had been severely injured, but that Marle’s magical healing ability had finally done the trick. But the word “revive” implied that something more had happened. He took stock of their surroundings. They were on the top of a hill – maybe a mountain. Probably a mountain as it was snowing. Definitely not an appropriate site for a sick bed. He thinks they were still in the Dark Ages.

            “Crono, you were…”

            “You got whacked ‘cause you’re weak,” Magus filled in helpfully.

            “I don’t remember you being particularly effective,” Crono responded coldly.

            “Care to try me?” Magus challenged, a ball of dark lightning conjured in his fist.

            Crono drew his sword with a ring.

            Frog with Masamune intercedes.

            “Fiend! I see how little thy word is worth afterall. Please! Use thy arcane powers!”

            “I wouldn’t have killed him. Too much trouble to revive him again,” Magus sneered, letting the crackling energy dissipate. “Might have left a few well-placed scars.” He turned and seemed to fade away into the blizzard. “Don’t forget that we have work to do,” his cold voice rang back to them.

            Crono let Marle pull him back into an embrace. He relaxed with her warm body against him.

            “Why is he with us?” he asked her.

            “It’s a long story,” she paused and then shook her head, “Crono, there is so much to tell you.”