Disclaimer: It's all copyrighted by Square, blah blah blah, you people know this. It doesn't belong to me. I'm just using their stuff in my story, etc, etc, etc. Enjoy the story!
What Comes Next
11,999 B. C.
A year is a long time. In a year, much has changed in this struggling wasteland. Sunken land has risen again. Snowstorms have decreased in both frequency and strength, though the sun is still a rare and welcomed sight. The Last Village is growing; humanity's last outpost flourishing, despite the environment. The fish intake is good, and most lead content lives. There is one noticeable exception to this.
A spear of crimson, with a streak of light blue running down the middle, hurled across the vast, world ocean. Quickly and silently, it approached a spot the natives called the North Cape. The spear slowed and landed, facing the ocean. It was now obvious that the crimson was a cape, and the light blue was the man's hair. The man had been called many things in his life. For a short time, he had been prince of a now dead kingdom. Later, he had served as the Hero of a now disbanded army. Next, he had taken the mantle of an oracle, and had simply been the Prophet. Now, though, now he was the creature of dark magics and children's nightmares. Now he was the monster of myths and legends. Now, he was the Magus.
Magus looked out at the ocean and remembered all the power, all the majesty, and all the bliss that rested at its bottom. He remembered the short time in which his life had been happy. He remembered the power and wonderfulness that had been the Kingdom of Magic, his former home, the Zeal Kingdom. He stood, and paid tribute to that fallen greatness.
For several hours, the Magus stood there. Then, as the sun began to set on the clear day, he reached into an inner pocket, and pulled out a white rose. He lifted it up to his face, as if studying it. Any sort of plant was rare in this land still struggling out of an ice age. That naturally made a white rose infinitely more rare than it would be normally. Still looking at it, Magus broke the silence that had been undisturbed for the past several hours by anything other than the wind.
"You deserve more, my dear sister, but this is all I can give you." Magus looked up and out into the horizon, then continued. "I've looked this pitifully small globe over several times. I know every inch of it. With that knowledge comes one last piece of information. It is an inescapable fact. From the day that the monster, Lavos, threw me through his time portal, and into the claws of the equally monstrous Ozzie, I've kept going by believing that you lived and we could be reunited." Magus felt his self-control slip a notch, but kept going.
"I can no longer hide behind that fantasy." Magus paused, reeling his emotions back under control.
"In my searches, I found this rose. Not even it is as valuable, or precious, or rare a type as you are...were. You deserve so much more than this simple good-bye, but I have nothing to give. With it, I say my final farewell to you, sweetest sister. I can only hope that when I die, and we see each other in whatever it is that follows this existence, that you can forgive me for all my horrid sins." Magus knelt down.
"Good-bye, Schala." As he said those words, he released the rose into the waters, a final token to an otherwise forgotten princess of an otherwise forgotten kingdom. As the rose touched the water's surface, the Magus felt his last connection to the boy he had been, the boy named Janus, shatter. For several more hours, he simply knelt there, head bowed. He stayed there through the night, and on into the sunrise. As the sun broke over the surface of the water, he finally rose. Without a word he left to wait for whatever would come next.