Chrono Trigger

The Hunt for the Warlock; The heroes discover a hidden passage way to the Mystic land. Glenn finds he is worthy to wield the Masamune…

They had left yesterday morning and found themselves in the middle of a thicket. Night had fallen and there was only the solemn hooting of owls as Crono and Robo conversed with each other, occasionally looking over their shoulders to watch for unwanted practitioners in these late night lessons. They had finished protecting the sanctity of their nightly vigil, faced each other, and resumed discussion…

"Yeah, I get what it means," Crono said with the confidence of a sage, "and don't get me wrong; it's clever…I mean, I would burst out loud, but it doesn't flow as smoothly if you used something else."

"Like what?" Robo asked.

"Let's say, a man jumped onto one of those speeding…what do you call it? It's a mode of transportation from your time."

"A train. Or a locomotive." Robo repeated factually.

"Right!" Crono exclaimed with a pointed finger, "Let's say that he jumps onto a moving train just to eat a bagel or something, you could say that is crazy, or that his motive is loco."

"A-ha!" Robo said with a pointed finger of his own, "or you could say it was a loco motive! Brilliant!"

Crono laughed, "That's great! Man, you catch on to the subtle art of puns quickly! I bet somewhere Lucca felt the hairs on her neck stand upright!" His face suddenly grew serious, "And speaking of which…"

Robo raised his hands and let them fall in a gesture of assurance, "I didn't say a thing. She will never know. She came close that time, didn't she?"

"She sure did," Crono said, wiping his brow.

"You could say even she about to pun-ish you!"

"Yeah, just for train-ing you!"

Meanwhile, Lucca and Marle sat a short distance away. The howls of laughter they heard were mistaken for the wind and they returned to their dinner. They had the fortune to come across somebody in town who held sweets and were trying variations of melted chocolate and any other food they carried. The results weren't as tasty like an old family delicacy Lucca used to eat, but it was still delicious and it gave the women of the party an excuse to bond for a while.

"Is it me, or is it there spider-webs around here or something?" Lucca asked, annoyance in her voice.

"Why?" Marle asked in a very un-princess like manner. (Meaning she spoke with a mouth of chocolate, some of it smeared on her face).

"For some reason it keeps feeling like something is landing on the back of my neck!" She rubbed the hairs on her neck vigorously before she decided to ignore it.

"Returning back to the topic," Marle began, rubbing her hands together anxiously, "your turn! Who was your first kiss?"

"Hmm," Lucca put her index finger to her chin pensively, saying slowly, "I can't remember, there were so many." Marle shrieked laughter in response. Lucca gave her a feigned look of indignation and said, "Well, does it count if you were really little?"

Marle thought for a moment, shrugged and said, "Sure, why not?"

Lucca nodded affirmatively as said, "A kid named Denson back in the early years of school. He came up to me and just kissed me for no reason!"

Marle half-smiled and half-gasped, "Well, that wasn't very gentlemanlike!" Marle said this with the airy tone of a reprimanding mother.

"I taught him a lesson though. I took his lollipop!"

"You little bully!" Marle laughed. "All he wanted was to kiss you!"

Lucca's eyes went away in slight embarrassment. She faltered with her words for a moment and the joviality from her voice disappeared but she carried on casually, "Well, that wasn't really all that happened. It's a little embarrassing to talk about…"

Marle leaned forward and said with a big smile, "Ah, come on Lucca! Don't leave out any good stuff or juicy details!"

"Hey!" Lucca said, feigning repulsion, "'juicy details'? We were like, seven years old!"

Marle laughed, but stayed silent and waited for Lucca to speak.

Lucca answered as if she were clarifying a white lie; a bit ashamed and swiftly like it was not worth notice. "He didn't really kiss me because he liked me. He kissed me on a dare."

"What do you mean? Like you two dared each other?" Marle asked, feeling a little sorry she took the conversation this direction.

Lucca sighed, "No…more like his friends dared him to kiss me…like…you know…it was something nobody would want to do."

Marle gasped in outrage and sympathy, "He didn't!"

"Yeah, well, what can you do?" Lucca said, gesturing aimlessly.

"So, what about the lollipop deal then?" Marle asked, "What happened there?"

The mood lightened instantly as Lucca laughed, "Ah, well, you see, Crono had a large part to do with that. I went to him, told him that Denson was making fun of me and Crono balled up his little fists and beat him into submission!"

Marle laughed out loud, "He did?"

"Yeah," Lucca nodded enthusiastically. "then he made Denson give the candy he had as an apology."

"Well," Marle said, crossing her arms and giving a nod, "served him right."

"And how." Lucca said, crossing her arms and adding a nod of her own.

"So, what about Crono? Do you know who he kissed first?"

Bad question to ask. The mood instantly reverted back to an awkward moment, but not apparently for the reason Marle thought. She giggled nervously, messed with her dark hair and gave furtive glances up and down. "Well, if I tell you, you have to keep it a secret, okay?"

Intrigued, Marle nodded and leaned in closer.

Lucca's left hand cupped her mouth as she whispered, "Unless you count that easy cave woman, then I think he ever has before."

Marle laughed and shook her head, "What? No. You're kidding with me." She looked at Lucca's face and realized she looked deathly serious. "Are you serious? You really mean to tell me that he never…"

"Not that I heard." Lucca answered with a lower whisper.

"But why?" Marle asked, bewildered.

Lucca thought for a moment, as if she wanted to say something very personal. Her answer was simply: "He's always been very shy toward that area. He always seems to make friends with girls, but it never goes past that. From what I heard, whenever a girl dropped a hint he would just either not get it or just freeze up."

"Never?" Marle asked. She was still stunned at this strange bit of information. After all, even with her life of strict rules and punishments she had found several opportunities to experience affection of that sort. She was amazed that Crono had never done something that she had done. In that way, it made her feel more normal than she had ever felt. Also, she felt a sense of forbidden elation since Lucca mentioned nothing of a first kiss between them.

She knew somewhere in the back of her mind that there was the possibility Crono had kissed someone at some point in time and not tell Lucca about it. After all, she figured that it was absurd that someone like Crono never shared a kiss with anyone. Marle felt silly at the moment, for a brief image of her and Crono kissing popped into her head. She dreamily stared into space only to be brought back by Lucca's booming voice asking for a piece of mint candy.

Marle tucked that tidbit of information away as she prepared an experiment with chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers. Lucca gave her a look of disgust as she moved the melted mess toward her mouth. Lucca asked "You aren't really going to eat that, are you?" Marle looked at the oozing sandwich and back to Lucca, nodding affirmatively. "That's just gross! I mean, really: burnt marshmallows, melted chocolate, and graham crackers? That's like eating pickles and ice cream! It's like eating fish with pudding!"

Marle shrugged and said, "You only live once."

Lucca shrieked and covered her face as Marle chomped down on the soon-to-be famous delicacy. It took a moment for Lucca to lower her guard and observe Marle's ravenous chewing. A look of disbelief came over Lucca's face as she said, "Oh, please don't tell me you enjoyed that…Ugh, you're supposed to be royalty for crying out loud…" Her comments disappeared as she saw that Marle's eyes shone with the brilliance of a child who had found some staunchly desired treasure. "Is it good?" Lucca asked, surprised and leaning forward.

Marle held out the messy treat expectantly, her mouth too full to give a vocal response.

Lucca closed her eyes and shook her head, "Oh-ho no! There is no way you are going to get me to eat tha-AARGMLPH!"

Marle left no choice as she shoved a healthy portion into Lucca's gaping maw. Lucca, who held the food inside her mouth, carried the look of a madwoman ready to let out a rant. She stood on her feet, pointing an accusing finger, but then realized that she was still chewing and that it was the most delicious thing ever. She sunk back to her seat like a deflating balloon and moaned as she leaned back, closing her eyes to concentrate on the taste.

Within minutes the bags of marshmallows, chocolates, and graham crackers had been emptied and their faces and fingers were smeared with their new invention. They slouched in their spots, their stomachs comfortably protruding. They looked at each other, a dreamy glaze in their eyes, and Lucca said, "Science is all about experimentation. It was good that you went out there on a limb, or else I would have never tasted something so heavenly." Her eyebrows arched as a realization hit her and she sat upright, "You know, whenever somebody makes a great invention they are supposed to give it a name."

"Huh? Why?" Marle asked, finding stray ingredients that escaped their feeding frenzy.

"That's just what all inventors do. You know what?" Lucca said this with a wide smile, "This means you are officially an inventor! So, maybe you can name it after yourself!"

Marle beamed as she put the ingredients together. She looked at the desert as it roasted in front of the fire and said, "'The Nadia Cake'? I don't know, I don't think I like the sound of it."

"Hmm," Lucca put a finger to her chin and said, "I suppose something as amazing as this should not be bound to a single name…Since it is so easy to make…"

Marle, who had been hungrily devouring her latest victim, found another stack of ingredients and offered them out to Lucca. With a full mouth she asked "Hey Lucca, would you like some more?" Or rather, it came out as, "Eh Lucka, wolph yoo like s'more?"

Lucca's eyes flew open, the fire bouncing in her pupils, "That's it!" She exclaimed, "We shall call it 'the Choclandic explosion!'"

"Nomph." Marle said lamely.

Lucca gave her a dejected look before sitting back down. They spent the rest of their waking evening running through a list of names from their tops of their heads before they agreed on "Marsh-graham-late" until they could find something better.

Glenn, who had been meditating in a thicket, could still his senses and hear the juvenility of his comrades. He requested that he be left alone that evening and suggested that everyone do the same. While he sat in the wood, pondering on what may be his impending death, he became agitated to find that his comrades were not sharing in his desire to prepare.

He had never been a father, for this curse had followed him since his twentieth year and it had been ten years passed. He knew, or rather resigned to a fate of loneliness, save it be service to the kingdom. Even then, he still had fatherly frustrations brewing within him. It had crossed his mind several times to reprimand his cohorts and remind them of the deadly opposition they would face. He almost wanted to take a stick and swat them like he had seen other fathers do to their children, but knew how ridiculous that would be.

Instead, his annoyance clouded his ability to think and he arose with a huff and walked a further distance away. He felt the hilt of the sheathed Masamune sit in between his clenched, gloved fingers as he trudged up a snowy bank. The beauty of the falling snow did little to assuage his anger since he saw it as something that made his face frigid. Finally, for some reason he felt his anger wanting to explode. The Masamune glimmered like silver even with the fires being a distance away. He gave out a strong grunt of effort and slashed through the trunk of a tree. There was no sound at first, but then the branches connected to other trees began to break free of their bonds. The wood creaked as it fell to the ground with a whoosh and dull thud. Glenn did not stop there, but slashed at the branches with his sword until the trunk was almost bare.

Glenn stood before the barren tree, no less frustrated than he was a few moments ago. He breathed heavily and wiped a bead of sweat from his skin with his sword arm. As he did he realized that the glimmer of the blade dimmed noticeably and his heart fell. At that moment he fell to his knees and uttered a soft prayer. In his youth he befriended a priest who gave him advice that if he were ever troubled he could offer a prayer in hopes for guidance. It was quick but sincere. However, his anger did not go away.

He continued marching up a rounded hill until he came to a rock. He sighed as he unhooked the sheath and the lessened Masamune, leaning it against a nearby tree. He climbed onto the rock, and instead of thinking of the battle he felt impressed to think of something else. The fact of the matter is that he did not think on anything; he stared off into the woods and found that where he sat offered a great view. Slowly, over the course of an hour, he found himself admiring the beauty of the wood and the crisp, cold winter air. The anger slowly drained away and his breathing became deep and contented.

That was when he thought, among many other things, "Why am I preparing to die instead of preparing to live?"

This phrase seemed to strike him the hardest as he thought back on his earlier mentalities. It had been true. Most of this thoughts concerned what would happen if he were to die. He wondered if the kingdom he served so diligently would miss him. He wondered if the King and Queen would weep at his passing. He even wondered if Cyrus be disappointed in him if he lost. He imagined the things that Magus would say to taunt him insomuch that it could have been Magus standing over his shoulder and saying such things himself. As he realized that, Frog felt ashamed for how he was acting.

He arose with a grunt, reclaiming his sheath and sword, and began walking back toward the camp. He already knew in his mind that he would not be in the mood for speaking, but surely he could share time with these people who would risk their lives with him even if it was in silence. As he walked he bowed his head and stopped momentarily, offering a quick prayer of thanks. After that he looked forward and continued to walk.

Had he chosen to unsheathe the sword and look at it he would have seen that the Masamune returned to its former luster.

They could feel the salty spray of the ocean in the wind as they approached the north-eastern cliffs of Porre. It had taken more than half a day to reach this point and the sun began to hang low over the horizon. Their horses came to a halt and they dismounted, looking at the natural wonder that confronted them. The solid rock face was completely smooth at the front, reaching toward the sky. The back end of the gateway took on a natural form, complete with crags and moss. A design had been carved across the face of the entryway and it signified that they had arrived. However, there was one problem…

How does it open?

"OPEN SESAME!"

The party jolted in surprise and turned to face Robo with hostile countenances. Robo, who had been holding his arms aloft for the mighty cry, let them fall down to his sides. He said as politely as he could, "I am sorry…it was just a joke…" The party shook their heads collectively and approached the rock face, letting their hands run over the petroglyphic surface. The symbols covered the entire front, yet there was no crag or small hole that suggested it was a doorway. In a futile and somewhat desperate effort, Crono pushed against the cliff.

"What if I were to blow it open?" Lucca asked, but then she quickly stopped herself. "Nah, that would be stupid, and of course, that is unlike myself."

The entrance was perched at least a hundred feet above water with a little way to the edge of the cliff. That led the party to realize that the secret passage winded downwards until it was deep enough to pass underneath the ocean. If she were to use explosives there would be a high risk that any steps or means to descend would be destroyed in the explosion. Therefore, she tapped her index finger against her head as did the others.

"Why not just cross the ocean?" Marle asked with a shrug.

Glenn turned to her and said, "Dost thou know of the fortifications? Magus has summoned the dead to erect fortresses across the land and heap up earth to the cliffs insomuch that any soul that dares to scale it would be defenseless until they reach the peak of the cliffs. T'would be a sure death."

Lucca added, "History…" her eyes found Glenn and she clumsily switched her wording, "…uh…recent rumors say that when Magus first came into power he made his land inaccessible, and if it weren't for his summoned army it wouldn't have stayed that way…um, I mean 'be that way.'"

Glenn gave her a quizzical look for a moment before addressing the rest of the group, "Mayhap we may all think of paths to alleviate this cumbersome tribulation. Prithee, let us rest anon, and perhaps in an hour's time we shall remedy this problem."

Glenn had wandered off on his own, collecting his thoughts as he stood on the seaside lea. He sat on a stone, his elbows resting at the knees, his right arm habitually whirling the Masamune in its sheath. He sighed in annoyance since no single thought came to him. He forgot about the sword for a moment, letting both of his hands sooth his aching head. He grunted in surprise as the sword fell to the ground, jarring the sword loose from the sheath. He hurriedly picked it up, mentally kicking himself for even spinning the sword in an unceremonious manner in the first place.

Then, his eyes saw the blade.

The restoration of its luster was not the only thing that surprised him; there was also an incident that sprung into his mind as if the sword itself enhanced his thoughts. The darkest memories that preoccupied the surface of his mind parted and he saw a scene he did not remember for some time. It was a scene that took place after Cyrus had attained the title of Knighthood while Glenn remained a Squire. It was before the treaty had taken place, before they had been transferred to Guardia Kingdom. Cyrus was young then, yet he still held a strong jaw and a steely glance that gave him the look fit for a knight. They were standing on the parapet of a fortress, looking out over the horizon.

"Dost thou know that thy humility holds thee back?" Cyrus began.

"Speak not such nonsense," said Glenn as he attended to a knot that held down a catapult. "only the best may be knights."

"Thou knowest thou art my equal, if not my better in swordsmanship." He walked behind Glenn and patted his shoulder, "Humility may be a sin if it is a lie, do not forget that, Glenn."

Glenn chuckled, "Who art thou to presume that I need instruction of thee? Was it not thy father that made me pledge to keep thee from harm?"

"Ah, speak such things in that tone and I shall do injury unto thee!" Cyrus reached for a random stick from a thatched roof and pointed it toward Glenn.

Glenn only gave him a pleading look and said, "I pray thee, not now. Also, is this not thy duty as well? A little help here, man!"

Cyrus rolled his eyes, went to another rigging and tightened it. As he did so he gave a hefty sigh and said, "Glenn, is this what I have slaved all those years for?"

"What meanest thou?"

Cyrus gestured to the battlement, which was prepared for an encounter that would not occur, "Have we trained so hard to defend untargeted fortresses? To hear news of battle and do nothing?"

Glenn laughed and said, "Do ye forget? In the beginning I wished to be a priest."

Cyrus pounded his chest plate at that moment and said strongly, "And I wanted to save lives; defend our country; to create peace through strength." He looked around himself with an air of intolerance. "My father does not understand; he does not wish me to fight, but I believe it to be right, Glenn! I only want to help my fellow countrymen." He slid down the wall of the battlement and sighed, weaving his fingers through his hair. "Can a noble not bleed with his brothers? I am no different than they; no different than thee. Does my father not see that?"

Glenn took a seat next to him. "Your father loves thee; surely thou can see that."

"He watches me for he loves me, that much is true, but does he love his people I wonder?"

"I assure you he does, and I ask that thou refrain from saying such loosely imagined things concerning your father."

Cyrus sighed in defeat and said, "Aye, he is a good man. I am sorry. I just wish to end this war."

"It shall come to pass," Glenn said softly, "so rest thy prattling thoughts. They drain thee and that will not do."

"I hereby dub thee: Sir Glenn of Guardia. From this moment on, you are an honorary son of Guardia."

The early mist of the morning could be seen through the painted glass window; even still the light shone down as if the heavens witnessed this moment. The young boy who had become a man knelt in front of his new liege, whom he had come to love as a surrogate father. He felt the blade of the Masamune touch his shoulders and he shuddered with joy. Tears streamed down his face as the king beckoned him to rise as a knight of Guardia and as a defender of the throne.

The crowd erupted with applause. His gaze went over the crowd of nobility who had accepted him, a common peasant, as a knight. In the front row he saw his mother and father weep for joy. He also saw Cyrus, misty-eyed yet still able to hide it behind an enthusiastic gesture. He faced the rest of the crowd, hoisted his own sword above his head and shouted, "For Guardia, who accepted a foreigner as a brother, I give my undying devotion! May God bless you all!"

With his proclamation, the king sheathed the Masamune in the traditional symbolic gesture to show that the deed had been done.

"Sire, I beg thee; I cannot stand by idly while my men suffer!" Cyrus begged fervently as he knelt if front of the king.

"The Masamune is an ancient heirloom that has been used to anoint those worthy of Knighthood for thousands of years. Yet, you wish to stain it with blood?"

"Your majesty, I believe that the sword has been sanctified and prophesized to slay wickedness where're it be. Our scholars can attest to its existence far beyond our records. It is no ordinary sword, and far more than an heirloom; it is meant to fulfill prophesy in our times."

The king of Guardia sat upon his throne while all stood, watching on. He stroked his beard which he hardly did, showing his mind was very troubled. However, it was not Cyrus that he doubted, and Glenn could see that as he stood a distance off, serving as Cyrus' confidant. With quick strides he went next to Cyrus' side and knelt as well, pounding his hand against his chest in a hallowed salute. "Your majesty, may a lowly man such as I speak in thy presence."

"You are hardly 'lowly' Glenn, and I command that thou not refer to thyself as such. Thou'rt a knight of Guardia, and you do so dishonor the title by being so humble."

"I beg thy forgiveness, my liege."

"You may speak, Glenn of Porre." The king said with an odd tone. He was not used to speaking so formally to these two, even though Glenn insisted on doing so. Nonetheless, within the confines of the throne room, in front of nobles, and considering Glenn's heritage (which he was loathe to do) he addressed them as an impassionate leader.

"Since my youth I have been of a poor station in life, yet through the kindness of my friend and master, and through a priest was I able to become literate. I endeavor to read the scripts of holy prophets, and listen to the words of the clergy. Therefore, I say these words unto thee with the utmost of confidence: dark works are abounding in our world, and I believe it to be a sign that we must act now."

"Signs, you say?"

"Yes," Glenn said with a nod, "the dead are rising, nations are at war, and this new foe is rumored to have the power to summon a great beast to destroy us all."

"I have heard of this rumor." The king said with a nod. "I know the situation is dire, but I doubt that our humble sword is the blade which you claim it to be. Would I send you out with a cankered blade, thou wouldst surely parish. I will not let such a fate befall thee."

Cyrus bowed his head in defeat and said softly, "Then, your highness, this wickedness shall spread until it corrupts all that is good. It is better for one man to fall than a kingdom, is this not so?"

"You are not one man!" The king bellowed, causing Cyrus and Glenn to jolt within themselves, "You are the Knight Captain; you hold the responsibility of guiding my army. Should you die in combat then the kingdom suffers."

"Sire," Cyrus began, "I know that thou doubt whether the Masamune be a weapon to be used; that perhaps it is polished from without, but within it is full of rust, but unless we force our hand then we shall never know."

The king thought for a moment, "Glenn, many times have you quoted scriptures. In thy own knowledge, would God grant unto me a sign?"

"He answers with a whisper to those who strain to listen. However, it is not in him to guide men by the hand, therefore he speaks to the ears and heart, but not to the eyes. Answer with a sign, I shall say no. However, answer He a prayer through the stirrings of a heart, I am certain. Nevertheless, there is another man who sayeth that signs come after the trial of faith. If we be true, then our fruits shall be thy sign."

The king smiled at Glenn. He leaned over as his Queen whispered something in his ear. It was a lengthy thought, which was accompanied by the occasional nod or gentle voicing of His majesty. In the end, he turned back to Cyrus and said, "You shall have the sword. From this moment on I shall trust Knight Captain Cyrus with the Masamune. You shall lead the men to defend this country and all those who are good, but I urge you to take another blade as precaution. I fear for your lives."

"Your majesty," Cyrus said with a smile, "you shall not be disappointed."

True to Cyrus' word, the king was not disappointed.

A battle raged not long after they had been entrusted with the blade. The Mystic army moved its forces to test the strength of their opposing army. In the minds of all those who heard of the battle at that time, it was a sign that the war was upon its deathbed, Magus serving as the corpse. Later on, in Glenn's mind, this would be thought of as the starting point of dark times.

The Guardian army had marched to the appointed place of battle and made camp. Morning came to find Glenn attending to Cyrus and his armaments. Cyrus stood, his face grim, his fingers trembling as Glenn latched the breastplate and bandaged Cyrus' hand. Glenn would give him a sympathetic glace, only to find that Cyrus would wear a smile as a thin façade to his jittery nerves.

"My friend, I trust thy convictions…know that I would be willing to lay down my life for thine."

"None of us shall lay our lives down this day," Cyrus chuckled weakly, "I wield the Masamune, the Lion's fang that can cut stone as grass and dispel evil where're it goes. Calm your troubled heart. We shall be well."

After Glenn attended to his own armor they both marched out of the tent to rally their troops.

The battle began against their favor. Magus' army choose the perfect spot for their battle, and they had more time to prepare their defenses. The agonizing sounds of defeat began to fill Guardia's camp as the injured trudged their way back. The men, whose faith in victory began to wane, feared the prospect of returning to the field. However, it was at that point where Cyrus gathered the men together and promised that he would march with them. With their morale raised, they marched out with their heads held high.

The battle still did not go well. The souls of the dead seemed to grow in number as the bodies Cyrus' men were cut down like wheat. Cyrus and Glenn fought back-to-back, each one occasionally glancing at the other to see if they were well. They fought valiantly, but their arms grew tired. Finally, Glenn heard a yell as a spear found its way into Cyrus side.

Glenn's eyes went wide as Cyrus fell to a knee, his breathing becoming labored. Violently, Glenn hacked the undead foe in two and began to fight as a man possessed. Forgetting his fatigue, he leapt around Cyrus, giving and taking blows. The cuts he received gave no pain as his mind focused solely on fighting. However, somewhere, in the back of his head he begged fervently that Cyrus make it through the battle alive. It was at that point when he realized that the enemy was no longer advancing. He noticed that unnatural winds circled about the plains, causing the undead to swagger while the living were untouched. A holy light blinded all except Cyrus as he raised the Masamune into the air, a triumphant roar accompanying the deafening boom that filled the battlefield. A bright pillar of light went to the heavens and Cyrus let out a vengeful yell.

Glenn fought, but saw that Cyrus began to move faster than anything he had ever seen. He seemed to glow as he sliced through foes, driving them back while his own numbers advanced. The despairing wails of the Guardian army were replaced with enthused cheering and battle cries. Glenn fell to his knees, letting the army pass him by. He smiled serenely, notwithstanding that he was suddenly cognizant of the pain that robbed him of his consciousness. He fell to the ground and slept peacefully, knowing that the battle had been won.

And now, here he sat, holding that same sword in his hands.

"So, it may cut stone as grass?" Glenn rose from his spot and faced the sealed entrance from fifty paces away. With the same shaken faith of his departed brother, he gripped the sword and raised it in the air. While the rest of the party was discussing ideas, Crono alone noticed what Glenn was doing. He observed hopefully, seeing that there was something different about Glenn.

Glenn continued, oblivious of his audience as he thought to himself. It was a prayer like none other he had said before. It was not a prayer of supplication, but a prayer of demanding. He clenched his teeth and said within himself.

"My father, many things have I lost during the course of my life, even though I did not have much to lose. Nonethess, what I did have I loved more dearly than I can express…However, those things are gone from me now, and I pray they rest with thee. I do not know why they have been taken from my hands into thine, but I cannot bear to let any more go with thee before their time. All things that I have done, I have tried to follow the words of thy prophets, their words having been spoken from thy mouth. Mine faith has been tested many times to the point where I feared I could not endear. But I can bear no more! Have I not passed thy trials? Where is the sign shown unto the faithful? Although I am but a man, I command thee to give me the sign, and the power that thou promise the righteous! Give unto me the blessings which have been held from me! I will suffer no more! Thou shall show me that thy word is true when thou hast said that all who work righteousness shall be awarded!"

At that point the sword began to emanate a glorious light and the party finally noticed. Marle gaped while Lucca and Robo stood motionless. Crono, however, began to smile as if he had seen something the others had not. The wind, which was gentle and pleasing, began to whip upon the cliffs, causing the waves of the ocean to heave to new heights. The wind let loose a loud howl as burst of it seemed to be coming from Glenn's center, causing all clothing and his own cape to billow wildly. Meanwhile, he stood, his lip trembling with effort as a bright light lit up the coast. With a cracking boom, a pillar of light struck the sword like lightning. The sword crackled with energy and Glenn let it fall to his side, his gaze focusing on the entryway. With a voice that sounded like a growl he shouted.

"SHOW UNTO ME WHETHER THE PROPHETS BE TRUE OR IF THEY ARE LIARS!"

Faster than anything they had ever seen, Glenn dashed toward the wall. The clinking of his armor and the thud of his quick steps were overcome by the sound of surging energy as he leapt into the air, bringing it above his head. He gave a grunt of effort as he swung the sword down. The loud noise of tumultuous Mother Nature suddenly disappeared with the sound of metal scrapping against stone. Glenn landed on the ground, knee bent, and his sword extended out sideways. Several moments passed where only the gentle blowing of the wind answered them. They looked at each other, their faces full of worry. However, Glenn grinned as he felt such confidence as he had never known.

Suddenly, the terrifying sounds of nature returned as the earth shook, the sound of crumbling rock surrounding them. They looked at the peak of the gateway and saw that a faint, searing line went from top to bottom. The line became two as the face of the mountain began to separate, showing a gaping entrance that grew wider and wider while boulders fell and crumbled all around Glenn. The rumbling subsided, leaving only the sound of the gentle breeze once again. This time, the party did not look on in pity, but were stunned beyond words. Glenn pointed his sword toward the newly opened cave and said, "Our destiny lies within. Come all; we must rid the world of this unnecessary pain and bring down this warlock once and for all."

The party dashed inside, their emotions elated. It was only Crono who stood without, keeping eye contact with Glenn until he noticed. Glenn looked at him curiously, but smiled brightly as Crono gave him a confident smile and firm nod. He returned the same gesture and the two dashed into the gateway to face God-knows-what.

Author's note: Merry Christmas to all, Hanukah, Kwanza, or what have you. :) I just got over a cold, so I'm feeling pretty good right now! This was an unusually long chapter. I felt I went a little too descriptive with Frog's story, but feel free to tell me what you think. Also, shootski brings up a good point with the reviews, and I just want to say this right now: pointing out continuity errors is very helpful! I told myself I should sit down soon and read my own story since its like looking at an old picture you have drawn; it shows you have far you've come or how much you regressed. That's the great thing about I think. I can keep all my work without a problem. However, I haven't had that attack of nostalgia yet that fills with me desire to read through my story above my other priorities right now. (Like school or playing Final Fantasy XII. It is awesome by the way). That is why sometimes I write things that contradict what I might have mentioned earlier in the stories. (Such as time it takes to travel from one place to another, when someone has a weapon and what kind, dates, historical facts, etc.) When I finally finish this thing and go back through it, I am going to read all the reviews, make a list of errors that I can fix, and do a pretty massive edit to the story while looking for errors myself. (Because I also plan to shorten the wording and take out my…ahem…unnecessary author comments…and put them to the end, maybe). Like I said, I didn't expect the story to be this long, but this is a fun little habit of mine. Locuster, whose story I am still waiting for an update, was kind enough to actually edit a massive part of the first chapter for me. I just haven't done it yet because I want to finish the story before I fix it. So, when you tell me about continuity errors, you are helping me with my story, BIG TIME! Please keep a sharp eye and memory for those errors and I will take them into account and fix them down the road. Thank you all for reading!

Oh yes, and please tell me if you like anything about the story. Catching errors is great, but the little brat in me just loves compliments!

Just to let you know, I plan to go all out for the Magus battle next chapter, which is also going to be long. I know I said "the battle is going to be the next chapter" before, but this time I mean it!

-Gibson