Chrono Trigger

Forget me Naught; wherein Glenn delves further into his past and confronts his demons…

Ethan's steward explained a few things to Glenn as they walked toward his residence. Although his father's house was large enough to accommodate him, Ethan was a successful man in his own right and had his own estate. Ethan walked away from inheriting his father's position as a port authority. He, instead, grew interested in law and went away to school after his crippling injury years ago.

"His leg never fully healed then, I take it?" Glenn asked.

"Nay, he walks with a cane."

The steward further explained that it would be best if they went through the back entrance. Although Ethan did not have any control over the port authority, that didn't mean that talking with someone who harbored such a contentious idea would resonate well with the community. Glenn knew full well the risk Ethan was taking, even if it was a friendly visit.

Night was coming on and a fog settled over the city. It gave the atmosphere a serene and dreamlike feel. Distant lights appeared almost as if they were flickering fireflies in the haze. They arrived at a large house with an iron fence. The backyard was large, with willow trees hanging over a well kept path. There was a pond where actual fireflies danced over its water. A brick walkway led to a back patio were a familiar face sat at a garden table. He was drinking something hot, but looked up as he heard footsteps. He smiled and stood as quickly as he could, with great effort.

"My friend!"

They embraced for a long time, patting each others backs and squeezing each others shoulders. When they finally separated he looked toward his steward, "Please, Miles, fetch the children and my wife. They need to see the man who saved my life! And get the best wine we have!"

Glenn raised a hand in protest, "Prithee forgive me, my friend. I do not indulge."

He guffawed and slapped him on the back, "Not for you! For me!"

Glenn had not planned on discussing the situation with the port authority. As far as he was concerned, the whole matter was out of Ethan's power. He was here to see an old friend and it was as wonderful as he could have expected. His wife was a vision. His children were kind and meek, but quickly warmed up to Glenn when he allowed them to touch his skin and hold the Masamune. They asked him questions which would have hurt his feelings had he not grown as quickly as he had.

"I had seen Eliza. I am thinking of seeing her again."

Ethan beamed, "It's about time, you sloth! You need to catch up to me!"

The gathering probably lasted the better part of two hours before a distant bell rang. Ethan nodded to his wife that it was time to put the children to bed. She agreed, but not before giving Glenn a hug and thanking him for saving her husband all those years ago. She was genuine, but there was a hesitancy in her touch. He took it for what it was; an earnest expression of gratitude, and thought nothing of it.

Ethan sighed as he knelt to the floor, grunting with effort as he did so. He hugged his children and waved them off, but he stayed kneeling on the ground. Glenn wondered why but it suddenly became clear. Ethan waited until the children were gone and they were alone. He scooted back and placed his hands on the table. With great effort and a groan of pain he straightened out his leg. Glenn heard subtle pops. Ethan's face was drenched with sweat as he collapsed against the chair. He breathed heavily and wiped his face with his hand. "It's much worse when I am kneeling…"

Glenn was silent as Ethan poured himself a glass of wine and drank it as if it were a shot.

The mood changed. Suddenly, it felt as if Ethan were building up the courage to say something that needed to be said. Glenn could feel it coming but was resolved to be as honest and truthful as possible. He breathed in long and deep and Ethan took it for what it was; an invitation to say what he invited him here to say.

"I am thankful you came this evening. I truly am. You are family and I have always considered you such. I wanted you to meet my wife and my children. I wanted to speak with you and relive our good old days. Even the bad ones." At this, he rubbed his aching leg.

Glenn looked; he could remember how it bad it was when he found him. Ethan had stabbed his enemy through the eye, but not before a mace was brought down on his leg. Crude spikes protruded through his muscle and skin, shiny black gore pouring down his shin. He was so pale. Glenn could remember the sound it made when he had to pry the mace from his leg. He had known even then that Ethan was lucky he kept the leg.

"The gift that keeps giving, eh?" Ethan chuckled wryly. "Look at the fantastic gifts they gave us, you and I." Ethan gestured to his leg and then Glenn's face. He looked toward his leg again and said, "They made it so I can't play with my children. You weren't there for the wedding, and I understand that, Glenn...but can you understand how embarrassing it was to walk down that aisle with a cane? Her father, more than twice my age, had to give his daughter to a man who couldn't stand without the help of a damned cane."

He poured himself another glass, but didn't touch it. "And then you. Look at what they did to you." He breathed in deep before he spoke further, "My father came by. He told me what he did. He told me how ashamed he was. He had spat in the face of the man that saved his son. He came to me to apologize and ask for my forgiveness. I found that incredible. He had only spat in your face because as far as he knew, you were another Mystic." He picked up the glass, but didn't drink it. He merely swirled it around in the glass, watching the wine ebb down the sides. "I mean, how could he have possibly have known? It wouldn't be logical to expect that the man who pried a mace from his son's leg would ever possibly have some misplaced feelings of compassion for the very same monsters who cursed him so." His brow furrowed and his hand trembled. The wine shook and spilled from the sides as he grit his teeth. "How ridiculous that would be!" He shouted this as he stood up in a sudden rage and threw the glass into the darkness. Droplets of wine flew and splattered on the ground. Somewhere close by, the sound of the glass rolling to a stop among the lawn could be heard. Ethan stood facing Glenn, his eyes wide in sudden rage. He gripped his chair, his knuckles white. Glenn, however, said nothing and regarded him silently.

The moments passed as if Ethan were waiting for an answer to some unasked question. When he did not receive it, he slumped back down into his chair. He rubbed his face with his hands and said, "And now I lost my glass. I suppose it is well enough; I had enough wine this evening."

Glenn got up from his chair and walked into the darkness. Ethan smiled as he could make out Glenn's returning form. In his hand he had the glass. He walked over to a pump, washed the glass off, and set it back on the table.

Ethan chuckled, "You are still the same man I knew back then. A peacemaker. You just happen to be a deadly one."

Glenn nodded, "Only when it needs be."

Ethan leaned forward, his elbows on his knees looking down to the floor. "You hated the Mystics more than the rest of us. And now you would save them. Why?"

Glenn sighed, "Thy legs are not the only legs growing weary, my friend. I grow tired of fighting. I grow tired of losing those I love...but more so than that, I grow weary of the wasted time."

Ethan nodded, "Aye, you better marry that girl and quick."

"When the time is right."

"Well, at least you will be able to take her on your own two feet."

Glenn thought for a moment and hesitated. He remembered how his majesty reacted when he used magic. He resigned himself to try and said, "Hold. Let me see thy leg." Ethan was puzzled, but obliged. Glenn's hands probed the surface. He could feel the misshapen muscle, but deeper than that he could sense the warped bones. Healing would not be enough. It would take years to strengthen and convert the bones to sustain load bearing.

"I shall do something unusual; be not afraid."

Ethan said nothing, but looked apprehensive. He expected Glenn to push a sensitive spot as doctors have done before. It was never pleasant. He fully expected the same treatment from Glenn, but his eyes widened in horror as a blueish light enveloped his leg. At first he did not move, but he stammered out a frightful noise and kicked away his leg and scampered back. He slid on his backside, kicking toward Glenn. "Magic! You used magic! How could that be? Has that curse…"

He suddenly stopped. He marveled at his leg. It was extended in midair. He flexed it. It still hurt, but he could move it. He looked at Glenn with incredulity. Glenn returned his look with a smirk and bid him to rise. Ethan, bracing himself for a pain that wouldn't come, rose to his feet. It took effort and it still felt unnatural, but he was on his own two feet.

"By God...how is this possible?"

"The magic can only do so much...It dulls the pain and relieves the stiffness, but it will take years of stances to properly correct thy leg."

"How did you-?"

"The magic came as a result of my journey with my friends that your father had the fortune of meeting. And as for the stances correcting thy posture: perhaps thou rememberest my stories of Avery?"

"The old gardener that taught you to fight?"

"Aye, that is him. When I was a child, I injured my leg as you recall. He cured me, but with much pain. I had the fortune of being young, but with my magic thy transformation will take time and will be far less painful."

Ethan rubbed his mouth, "Are you...are you saying that…"

"Aye; it shall take years and more visits, but I shall heal thy leg."

Ethan began to shake. Tears formed around his eyes and they fell down his cheeks yet he fought the urge to sob. "Can others learn this art?"

Glenn nodded, "Aye, if we are willing to learn."

He embraced him again.

It had grown late, but everyone was attentive as Glenn stood in front of them. The governor was true to his word: the inn where they stayed had a massive suite set aside for them. At the table were various foodstuffs, but also on the table was their strange concoction of marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. Ayla was in the midst of a mouthful when Glenn began.

"The meeting with Ethan was very fortuitous albeit after a rocky start."

"So," Lucca began, "you said he was a lawyer? Is there some way we can compel the port authority to waive the taxes?"

"Nay," Glenn said with a shake of his head, "one cannot be compelled to enter into a deal they wish not to be a part of; they are well within their rights to gouge us. And I thinketh that naught good would come from forcing them. However, there art another approach…"

Glenn put a map of Choras on the table. Toward the north, outside of the city limits, was a patch of land that was circled for clarity. "What thou seest there is the Astor Estate. It was a mansion that belonged to the Knight Captain of Porre during the time that Chorus fell under Porrean jurisdiction. When the battle against the Mystic nation began in earnest, it was offered up as a garrison in exchange for a promotion for his son."

Lucca grinned, "Ah, bourgeoisie types and nepotism. Money must come in handy, huh? Who was the lucky rank climber?"

"Cyrus."

Robo blanked as did everyone else. After a while he said, "Pardon?"

"Aye, 'twas Cyrus. His father is Astor of Porre. It was he that took me in and allowed me to become a squire to Cyrus. He was a hard man, but after time he was like a father to me. Porre and Guardia were once at war off and on before the Mystic threat, but as a token of peace, several ranking officials either married into foreign countries or were commanded to switch masters. Cyrus and I were sworn to Guarida, much to our joy."

"So, why are we talking about a mansion?" Magus asked.

"It hath been a mansion in the past, but as I said it was converted into a garrison. There are storage rooms, a five boat harbor, and extra facilities. It is far enough away from the city as to not draw attention of the townspeople and it will not be taxable since it is done upon private property."

"So all we need to do is get his permission to use the harbor and the trade route is set!" Marle grinned.

Glenn grew somber, "There is much more to this; pray forgive me, but I hid some complexities. Astor has been dead no more than ten years. And the property is not as welcoming as thou wouldst think."

"Well, out with it then." Magus said, getting impatient.

Glenn sighed and began. "Astor was a vainglorious man. Often did he relish in the accomplishments of his son and his lineage. He was a high ranking official and his prospects were bright; but more than anything, he valued the family line which ended abruptly with Cyrus." Glenn was silent for a moment as he recalled the unpleasant memories, "I had been recuperating, but I dictated a letter. However, word of his son's death reached him before my letter. I heard he had cursed me for a coward and that I let his only son die, that I betrayed them. In his wrath, he took the Mystics who were prisoners of war and tortured them to death. The word of his son's death drove him mad and he set fire to his estate. The structural damage is great, but it is repairable. However, many believe the place is cursed and none dare approach it. What Ethan had told me is that according to the laws of the land, I technically inherited the estate."

"How could that happen?" Chrono asked.

"When one becomes a squire in Porre, it is as if thou art adopted into the family, albeit as a servant. It was a great honor that friends in my youth helped me achieve. His wife had passed years before and he had no other children. Therefore, the Astorian estates in Porre and Chorus doth belong to me." At this point, Glenn allowed himself a smile, "Not a bad accomplishment for a lowborn, is it not?"

"But, you never lived in them." Lucca said.

"Aye. I did not feel worthy of it. Despite the circumstances, I was not strong enough to save Cyrus. His death was on my hands. I had stayed away from Chorus for all these years because I could not face the memory of Astor's madness. For ten years I opted to live in a hovel, but now it is different. I do not want the estates for wanton desires. This is to help the suffering. Ethan hath endeavored to prepare the papers in the morn, and we shall set out to view the estate and plan their repairs."

"But is it really haunted?"

Glenn looked at the map, a feeling of foreboding filling his chest, "I suppose we shall see…"

Author's note: Much faster this time. Keep up the critiques! Keep kicking my butt to get writing faster! :P When the edits eventually come this will probably be merged into one chapter, but as such I think it is good for breaking up the events. Hope you enjoy where it's going!

Another note: I don't know if you guys read my other stories, but a lot of this ties in with some of the other fanfics I've written. All the story details are up in my noggin, so I guess you could consider some of it spoilers for my other stories.