The liquid blue of the planet's sky faded into the black void of space. A million stars blazed overhead like diamonds of white fire.
The flash of sword and spell from combat happening in the cold of the upper atmosphere could be seen as small sparks from miles away. On the Black Omen, a gargantuan floating fortress that looked like a trilobite gilded in dark steel, a battle for the future raged above the of the planet.
It was a battle between a pale queen, a red-haired warrior, a frog with the body of a man, and a hardened, golden-haired woman dressed in black furs.
The queen was tall and carved from severe perfection – terrifyingly and mercilessly beautiful – and was clothed in a dress and cape of lavender velvet. Her skin was the color of moonlight, and her hair was the color of lilacs. She was poison and honey – an alluring tyrant who wielded a foul power that warped reality around her.
"How dare you!" she screamed, "I have weathered millennia to come this far. Immortality and omnipotence is the birthright of the powerful and wise – how dare you insects insult my sovereignty with you incessant and meager opposition!" Her face was covered by a mask carved to look like a woman wearing an evil grin, and white gloves covered her fine hand. Power sparked blue over her fingers.
When she thrust her white-gloved hand forward, a blast of miasmic, rainbow energy flew forth like a gout of flame. It struck the three warriors facing her and made them scream in agony. The harmony of their pain was sweet to the woman's ears. When the energy of her spell evaporated into nothingness, all three of the queen's enemies lay on the surface of her mighty ship, writhing and moaning.
It was the frog who stood first, rising to his knees and using his elaborate long sword as a brace to hold himself upright.
"Harpy! Succubus!" he called in a regal baritone, "The tyrant hath no true power whilst those of virtue and honor still fight. The nature of thy magic is evil – why canst thou see this? It will give thou nothing save pain and suffering, vile enchantress."
"Spare me your washed-up chivalry, toad. Your trite morality is something of the past – I am the future."
The masked woman, glowing darkly with her terrible and borrowed divinity, suddenly noticed that one of the three was no longer there – the blonde barbarian was gone! Her location became apparent, however, when the queen felt the sole of a foot connect between her shoulder blades with the force of a battering ram.
"He not toad, he frog!" she cried, and before the masked sorceress could react she was knocked forward and sent tumbling over the surface of her fortress with bone-jarring force. Her mask had been dislodged by the force of the blow, and it skittered out of reach over the cool metal of the top of the craft. She crawled after it, panicked and fumbling, and in her momentary distraction she failed to notice the fleet foot-steps of the frog knight approaching her with ready sword.
She leapt to her feet as the warrior charged and threw her hands up to summon her power. Losing her mask hampered her ability to weave magic, however, and before she could finish the incantation she felt the unmistakable crunch of steel penetrate her abdomen. She cried out and swiped blindly at the frog, connecting with his face and knocking him away as though he were little more than a doll.
The power within her, borrowed from the titan that slept beneath the earth's surface, protected her from mundane steel – this weapon was blessed, though, and it passed through her body. Though her terrible metabolism kept her from death, the blade would not come out despite her pulling at it.
"Fool," she sputtered, blood leaking from the corner of her mouth, "your blade can cut my flesh, but not even death can stop me." Even as she said the words, her body began healing around the intrusive weapon.
She looked up, and the warrior with red hair, his elegant blade lowered as he stretched out his hand toward her, began invoking his considerable magic. She realized what was happening a moment too late, and a bolt of yellow electricity shot forward, a glowing line shaped like a long crack in clear glass. It struck the hilt of the frog's weapon, the sword amplified its potency, and she convulsed as raw energy molested her body with destructive efficiency, tearing a ragged shriek from her raw throat.
As she fell to her knees, darkness clouding her vision, it was all she could do to use her magic to keep her form intact. The power soon faded, but her strength was gone and she fell to her face on the cool surface of her fortress, defeated.
The knight with a frog's head wiped blood from his mouth and walked over to her, using his mail boot to kick her onto her back and dislodge his weapon from her stomach. It made a wet, metallic sound as it was withdrawn.
"'Tis finished. Thy evil hath passed, Zeal, and soon so shall you."
Pain sent hot knives of white agony into her mind, but she still managed to smile.
"I am not done yet, toad."
With her last bit of strength, she reached out to the machine that siphoned power from the creature deep in the earth, the machine that granter her the unnatural might she wielded, and gave it one last command: self destruct.
With a great lurch and a deafening roar, the fortress began descending, innumerable tons of machinery falling down to the earth. Explosions rocked the insides of the flying city. She felt space and time warp around the disturbance, a side-effect of unleashing such raw energy, and reality tore open above the Black Omen. A great laceration spread the fabric of space, glowing with a maelstrom of red light.
"Crono!" cried the barbaric blonde, "We go! Big floating mountain crash now."
The frog hopped towards the gaping portal. "Verily, lass. Lavos awaits – let us go and greet him."
As Zeal lay dying on her crumbling fortress, as acidic hatred completely consumed her mind, she felt a warm hand on the cool skin of her arm. She looked up and saw the red-haired warrior, so young, naïve, and yet so sure, staring down at her with worry stark on his face.
"There's still time, Zeal. Come with us and we can save you – you can be free of this evil."
Zeal managed a gargled laugh. "I would rather die a thousand horrible deaths than spend a single second in the presence of such visionless insects."
"Damn it, Zeal, get rid of your pride and abandon this foolish quest for power! You have life, and life is precious – don't throw it away, let us help you! Please. If Schala could rise above her corruption, so can you."
The queen with lilac hair slapped away the man's hand. "Schala was an ignorant wench. Don't you dare compare me to her."
"Crono!" cried the frog, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of the falling fortress and the roar of the portal, "come now, lad. The monster awaits and hath no patience!"
With one last look of pity, Crono rose to his feet and ran to meet his comrades. Together, their eyes set firm upon the gaping maw of the portal, they leapt into the maelstrom and disappeared.
Zeal crawled over the top of the Black Omen as it fell, praying to Lavos with all her heart that it would make the three suffer to no end. She fought the encroaching apathy and blackness of unconsciousness as hard as she could. She came to the hatch back to her throne room and crawled inside. The automated elevator hummed as it took her down, and when she rolled off of it onto the floor it the hatch to the roof sealed and locked with a loud hiss. She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling as her dreams, her millennia of planning, fell apart around her.
It was so close. The power to warp the universe to her liking was at hand. She had underestimated the only force that threatened her dream, however - the force of foolish idealism. This realization was too much to bear, and with her last bit of consciousness she cursed herself and turned all her hatred inward.
Once she was a beautiful and powerful queen who had nations bowing to her, and now she was reduced to a dying, crippled shell trying desperately to grasp the falling shards of her shattered plans. She screamed and wept at the same time, berating herself and everything alive, before her fortress struck the surface of the ocean and the peaceful night of unconsciousness consumed her.
So brightly had her power burned that it kept her alive even when she should have died. How long had she lain in deep slumber, in apathetic darkness, she did not know – it felt like centuries, and yet passed like time did during slumber. She reclaimed awareness when she sensed the presence of intruders in her inner sanctum.
She could not move, she could not speak, but she could hear and sense. There were footsteps and dream-voices. Cool, moist fingers touched the side of her throat.
"Derrin," someone said, "you're not going to believe this."
"Try me."
"Get over here… this woman is still alive."
Silence. "That's impossible, Trenton."
"Here, feel her pulse. Quick, get Liassa over here with the life-support system."
Footsteps and hurried voices as more people gathered around her body.
A woman spoke. "Alright, Derrin, I'm coming. What's so imp… gods! She's alive?"
"Not for long if she stays like this. Get her hooked up to the med computer. We have some extra diving equipment in the submersible. I'll radio in and have them get it to us. This is amazing, Trent."
"You don't need to tell me that. You have her hooked up yet, Liassa?"
Pain was a welcomed sensation, as she had not experienced anything so clear for a very long time. She felt the pinch of many sharp things invading her body. A mask closed around her face and strong, nourishing air poured into her lungs.
"Look at this, Trent… this wound on her stomach looks like it was caused by some kind of sword, but its black and cauterized. It barely missed her aorta."
"Lucky little lady, she is. Alright, folks, I think we've found everything we need for this expedition. I don't want to wait around to see if there are any of those lingering mutant critters waiting for us. Let's get her loaded up and take her to the hospital at the Trann City Academy."