I, Magus
By Nightsong
My life has been a waste.
Ah, what a way to begin.
But it is the truth, and the only one that I've ever known in my sorry
existence. Allow me to explain.
My birth was unexpected, and unwanted. My parents already had their heir to the
throne when I was born in Zeal, they already had their perfect daughter. They already had Schala. Next to her, how could I have been
anything? Still, they tried to treat me
with love, at least at first. They
expected that, though I'd never ascend to the throne of Zeal, I could still
make a decent wizard, a decent government official of some sort.
But then they discovered I did not have magic. Of course, I truly did, oh, I truly did, but
it was worthless. It did not even begin
to manifest itself until after Zeal fell, at a time when I wish I had not had
it. Would that I could curse it, for
without it, I would not be what I am… but would being Janus, dead, worthless
prince of forgotten Zeal have been a better fate than living as the Magus?
Either way, Janus was no good child, no good creature. I was a hellion, basically, though not in the
way that one typically thinks of a small child as being one. I was embittered to a world that pitied me, a
world that pitied me for reasons I could not comprehend. I hated that pity. I took it out on everyone I ever met. I gloried in making little predictions based
on my one talent; my ability to sense the black wind.
Would that I did not have that accursed power. Would that I could not feel the chill caused
by feeling the devil at work run down my spine, would that I could not KNOW
beforehand that Hell was coming to visit.
Of course, one could ask if it's better to know before, so that things
can be stopped.
Idiocy. Nothing can
be changed. All is run by fate… I was
fated to be worthless, fated from the accursed day of my birth, my birth as
unneeded son of Zeal.
I could not stop my mother from falling to Lavos, could not
stop my entire homeland, or even… my sister, my dear Schala, from falling to
his wrath. I tried twice. TWICE!
The wonders of time travel… an abysmal triumph at best. I was allowed to relive the events of my
past, I was allowed to watch my sister die again, and I powerless to stop it… I
was allowed to watch my mother fall to Lavos again, to become nothing more than
a puppet of his madness.
But I was only allowed to watch, not change.
Ah, the irony of my existence. I hated the destroyer Lavos so much that I
sought to become like him. I joined the
mystic race in an act of attempted genocide against my own race… I became their
Magus. And I even told them that I would
summon Lavos, that I'd summon that being I HATED to come kill the humans.
Of course, I intended to summon him to kill him. Of course… I used the mystics, just like I've
used every other person I've ever met.
And certainly, many of the mystics are heartless, deserve to be
used. But… not all of them. No, not all of them. There were peaceful ones, and still I stirred
that blood-lust within them, bade them to kill, to be killed. I toyed with their lives as though I was God…
from what I now know, as though I was Lavos.
I even used the heroes… the Timestream Travelers. I met them when they came to stop me, came to
end my Mystic War, came to stop me from 'creating' Lavos. Of course, I knew I could never have created
something like Lavos, but to think that I was believed capable of it… it makes
me tremble, if not in fear, then in the deepest sense of pain I have ever
felt. I was made worse than Lavos, in
their eyes. Oh, certainly, Lavos killed millions of humans,
wiped the future of the human race completely out, but the Magus CREATED
him. He created the one who snuffs out
dreams, he thought up the antithesis of existence.
I joined them.. helped them gain back their Crono, their
leader. I didn't do it for them, or for
him. Why did I do it? Perhaps… it was not pity. I have used every ounce of that upon
myself. I simply recognized his power,
and knew I could use it. Ah, yes. I wanted to use Crono, as well, so much that
I would even defy death to make him useful to me.
And use him I did.
With his help, and with the help of the other 5, I destroyed Lavos. Ah, bravo to the Magus. Of course, it wasn't lost Janus that killed
Lavos. No. Janus did not avenge the fallen of Zeal. The Magus avenged the fall of Janus, and let
the other screaming voices of the Enlightened Ones go unheard.
I, as always, worked only for myself, for my own twisted
gain. I told myself I killed him for
Schala. Why? To find her?
If I truly cared about her, I would have saved her the moment I found
myself in 12,000 BC, would have saved her without ever becoming the accursed
'Prophet.' But no. I wanted a shot at Lavos, I wanted to off him
for all the things he'd done to ME, without so much as a thought as to what it
would mean if I failed.
I could have saved the whole kingdom. It wouldn't have required much. I could have sabotaged the Underwater
Palace, I could have destroyed the
Mammon Machine. Perhaps it would have
cost my my life to have done so, but Janus would have been saved… Zeal would
have been saved.
So, of course, I did no such thing. In my arrogance, I believed I could exact
revenge… could exact vengeance on Lavos for what he'd made me… for making me
someone capable of creating destruction.
And now he's gone, now that… abomination is gone from the
face of the planet, and I am left. I
have searched for Schala. She is nowhere
to be found. Nowhere. And it's all my fault, because I had to
battle Lavos, with the fate of Zeal held as a wager on the outcome.
And for that, I am damned to be the Magus forever, and Janus
is dead and buried.
And with the young prince, so is my soul.
