Chrono Trigger: The Sands of Time
Forget me Naught; wherein a soul cries out in anguish and a curse is lifted…
Five years ago, in that very spot where Chrono and his friends currently rested, a group of young boys looked around the barracks. The ivy on the walls were not as overgrown, the windows were not as dusty, and the gate had not yet rusted off its hinges.
They were youths on the cusp of manhood and desperately wanted to prove to their peers that they had already passed over the threshold. They did not realize it, but the fear gripping them was not the cowardice of lingering adolescence, but well-founded sense meant to serve to their preservation. They knew they should not be here. They knew it was foolish to be here.
"Are you going to turn back?"
"Hardly. I think Armand will flee first, crying like the little baby his is."
There were five of them, each taunting the other. They were taunting each other earlier that morning as well, trying to say who was the strongest or bravest among them. It was the stoutest of the five, Tristen, who proposed the contest that sent shudders through all their spines. He smiled triumphantly but had to hide his horror when they all unanimously acquiesced to the contest. He had hoped they would pale at the thought of it. He had never expected them to actually agree.
The Astor estate was specifically off limits by governmental decree. At first, it was considered in bad taste to disrespect the ruined history of the Astorian house. It was a tragedy to be remembered as a cautionary tale; not something to be stared and gawked at. However, regardless of the many attempts to prevent it, stories began to emerge of foolish or lucky souls who explored the ruins. Most stories were uneventful and there had been reports of the place being picked clean by bandits. However, there were other tales of cries coming from the mansion at odd hours of the night. And eventually, there began to be tales of missing people.
The reports of missing people had become frequent enough where the city guard inspected the ruins. They never found anything and they passed the word to the city. Even still, the rumors persisted. Over a short course of time, it became a point of debate among the people of Chorus: "Did the people who vanish even go to the manor at all? What if they just ran away? What if people just assumed they went to the manor? What proof of it is there? They certainly never found any bodies there. In fact, wasn't there that one time someone thought they disappeared in the mansion only to find out he ran off with some tart to Guardia?"
Still, the rumors persisted and it became a dare among the young. It was a test of manhood. And that was why they were there.
The tension mounted with each of them as the sun set over the horizon. They had been waiting in the barracks for the sun to wane and now it was time. They moved toward the double doors and pushed them open with a stuttering creak, dust falling from its creases. The doors immediately led to a large, circular foyer flanked by two winding staircases, leading to a second floor. Ahead of them was a hallway that proceeded further into the mansion if they decided not to go up the stairs. Dusty tapestries hung to the wall and a part of the roof had caved in toward the inner area of the mansion. Fading light from the collapsed roof illuminated the inner hall, but only barely.
"It's a good thing we brought these, eh?"
The one who spoke, named Jules, removed his pack and produced torches he prepared beforehand. He also took out striking rocks which produced a bright array of sparks that lit the torches. With all their torches together, the hallways was much lighter now and they could see the ornate details of the crown molding, even if it had splintered and warped over time. The tiles beneath them were also intricate with their details. There were areas where the dust was not as thick as its surrounding area.
"It looks like they took the carpets, doesn't it?" said Darren, one of the other boys.
"I was hoping to find something to take home…" said Jack, the fifth boy.
They moved as a group toward the bottom floor hallway. At this point they could see the square patterns on the wall. It seemed as if paintings had once occupied these spaces. They pushed on further, growing bolder as the house stayed still and quiet. There were no creaks, no sudden thuds, no loud bangs or ghostly wailings. In fact, it was rather peaceful.
They moved through the manor together, exploring every room. There was nothing left but dust and cobwebs. By this time, night had fallen and the sound of crickets could be heard outside. They stood, once again, in the foyer, all looking at each other. While they did not say it out loud, they were thankful that it was uneventful. In fact, halfway through exploring the mansion they had begun to be jovial and scoff at over-exaggeration of the stories.
"I knew it was nothing to be afraid of!" said Tristen.
"Oh yeah? Then why even dare to do it at all?" Jack sneered.
"I thought you guys would just buckle under the pressure. I didn't expect you guys would actually be so stupid to waste our time with this. I mean, if I had said it was a waste of time you all would have said I was scared." Tristen scoffed at the thought of it, already forgetting it was a lie.
"You were scared, weren't you?" Darren responded, waving his free hand and wiggling his fingers in an impersonation of a specter.
"I think you were the one who was scared." Tristen said, with a slight shove.
"Oh yeah," Jack began, "well, how about we separate?"
"What was that?" asked Armand.
"Well, we wandered around this place for probably more than an hour but we did it all together. I bet you all would be pissing your pants if I wasn't around."
Jules scoffed, "Oh come off it!"
Jack sneered, "Well, let's prove it then; we all pick a random room and we stay there until sunrise!"
"Really? Until sunrise?" All fear was gone from Armand now. The prospect really did seem boring to him. However, this was not how the other youths took his response.
"Ha! We knew it! You are scared!"
Armand scoffed, "I don't care; it is a waste of time. If you want to content yourself with sitting in a tomb for a night than go right ahead."
Armand began to leave, all his cohorts calling out and heckling him. The door closed behind him with an echoing thud. He scoffed, cursing the juvenility of his friends. He had unknowingly made the best decision in his life.
"Well, it is down to four of us then."
"Aye. So, we all go find a place and we stay there until sunrise?"
"I suppose so. I believe I'll be the last one walking out of here. Well, I will take the library upstairs. At least there is a bay at the window there. I can fall asleep there." Jack said, with a confident smile.
The others scoffed, stating their disbelief before they all separated to their opposing corners of the estate. Jack entered the library, its ancient wall-built bookcases empty of any literature. There was a grand fireplace, its hearth long since empty and dusty from time. The metal grate was still there and it was filled with ash. He remarked it would have been a perfect spot for an armchair and began to regret accepting the challenge. While the bay window was a better choice than the floor the others would be sleeping on, it was still made of brick and was sure to be uncomfortable. He settled in as best as he could. He could feel his eyelids go heavy as he went to sleep.
Or at least, he tried to. It was terribly uncomfortable. After an untold amount of time of forcing his eyes closed he could not bear it anymore. He opened his eyes and rose from his spot, being tired enough to want sleep but the spot not being comfortable enough to do it. His torch, which he left in a sconce, had dimmed. By his estimation it had been about an hour. He looked out the window over a black forest that stood against the night sky lit by a waning moon. He sighed in frustration. The scene only made him feel more serene but he couldn't sleep.
He heard something and turned. He gasped. Did he just see a person standing there?
His heart skipped a beat and he cursed himself for his nerves. There was no person there, but there was an armchair. He thought to himself, "Well, how odd! I didn't see the armchair there before!" It dawned on him though, that as he and his friends explored the manor they would just peek into the room instead of actually look through them. The armchair sat in a recessed portion of the wall which could not be seen from the entryway.
"Well, I guess I was the smart one after all!"
Jack chuckled to himself and did his best to brush off copious amounts of dust that accumulated over the years. Even with his efforts, a cloud of dust erupted around him as he fell into the chair. He sighed contentedly, not even being overly concerned with his clothes needing a wash. He fell asleep almost instantly.
Jack opened his eyes and it was morning. But the room he was in wasn't the empty library he saw last night. It was clean and well-kept. The floor was free of dust and debris. On the bookshelves were volumes of literature. A fire crackled in the hearth and a lean, tall, older man prodded at the fire with a poker. Jack called out, but the man didn't respond. He continued to stare into the fire, his back facing him.
Jack rose from his spot and went to the old man. Even as he leaned in close, the man did not respond. He only continued to poke absent-mindedly at the fire, his eyes red and tired looking. Jack gave up trying to communicate and turned about. Something caught his eye, however: a finely polished mahogany table with a letter sitting on top of it. Jack approached it, took the letter, and one thing caught his eye. The signature had the crest of the Guardian royal family and was signed at the bottom by the king himself. Jack began to read it to himself.
"To the Patriarch of the Astor estate, faithful servant of the crown,
It with heavy hearts that we regret to inform you that your son, Cyrus of Astor, was struck down in combat. His ward and companion, Glenn, survived and gave the account that they faced Magus in battle and-"
"THAT IS NOT FOR THEE!"
Jack awoke with a gasp. It was the same sensation he would feel whenever he had a dream about missing a step on a staircase or falling backwards. The image was nearly gone from his mind; but the final image from his dream, as faint as it was, stayed just in the corner of his memory. It was the man he looked at earlier in the dream, however his face was sunken in, almost skeletal. His eyes were completely black and he gripped Jack with a frightful strength and spun him around to face him. His hands were cold and his face was only inches away. In that split moment, it was not daytime. It was night. And the light from the moon looked eerily similar to what he saw in the dream.
Another thing he noticed was that he was in the alcove of the window. He looked to where the chair was before and it was not there. He scoffed, "Of course I dreamed up the chair. The thieves took everything." Jack shook his head and closed his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep.
"Wilst thou not do what I hath ordered of you, cadet?"
Jack was startled. He was in the same chair he slept in. It was light outside and the old man stared down into the fireplace, his hands bracing himself on the mantle. The man before him spoke in a Porrean accent. Jack stared dumbly, feeling as if he was being spoken to.
"Uh, who are you?"
"I care not for thy objections," the man shouted, "I told thee to do it!"
"Told me to do what? Am I dreaming again?"
"Enough of thy foolishness!"
The man came toward Jack. He did not feel the grip this time, but he felt as if his body were moving when the old man pulled on his arm. They went through the door and it led out to a well furnished mansion. It was sunset, but the place was bustling and full of soldiers. As he felt himself being dragged, he was aware that all the cadets were staring at the two of them. Jack noticed that there was an air apprehension, but he could not tell if that was from the dream or his own thoughts. The cadets hugged the wall, their backs to it as the pair of them passed.
Jack remembered these areas from exploring the mansion earlier. However, there was a well-hidden passageway that could easily be missed. It lead to a door that he had not seen before. There were two cadets stationed there, looking ill-at-ease. They saluted the old man and opened the door.
And Jack awoke.
He was still in the armchair. He could feel himself trembling and willed himself to stop. He looked toward the sconce and saw that the torch had grown noticeably dimmer. He looked out the window, the moon sitting lower in the horizon. Light was beginning to break across the horizon. He smiled and scoffed. He had done it. But it was still far too early. Jack folded his arms and leaned back into the dusty armchair and drifted off to sleep again.
He felt a nudge on his shoulder and looked to see the old man again. Jack was asleep in the alcove. "What a weird dream." Jack remarked. The old man didn't react to what he had said and instead looked at him expectantly.
"I need thee. Follow, cadet."
Jack sighed and arose from his spot. The library and its bookcases were empty and the room was dark. He looked out the window and saw the moon was high in the sky. This, of course, was a dream. After all, he had just dreamed that it was almost daybreak.
"Hurry, cadet. Thou'rt needed."
Jack sighed and allowed the motions to play out. He went to the sconce and removed his torch, taking it with him and lighting the way. He walked out into the hallway that appeared to be the same as what he and his friends first saw when they entered the mansion. Once again, the rugs and picture frames were all gone. Dust lifted from their feet as they walked. The old man spoke, his hair looking noticeably grayer.
"Thankful am I that thou hast obeyed when thou did. I questioned thy loyalty at first, knowest thou. Full happy am I that thou have proved me false."
They walked down the stairs, the old man humming to himself as if he were preparing a list in his mind and could barely keep from talking to himself. As they reached the bottom of the stairs, he absent-mindedly signaled to Jack to leave the torch on the stone floor just before the front doorway.
"Do we not need it?" Jack asked.
"Leave it there, cadet."
Jack sighed, wishing the dream would be over soon and placed it down gently. He returned to the old man and followed, their destination growing closer. It was the door that he was just about to enter during his last dream. Jack suddenly felt a rush of apprehension, as if he were supposed to run, as if it were pure folly to go further. As if his soul cried out not to go behind that door.
The old man chuckled and said mockingly, "What? Lost thy stones?"
Jack's brow furrowed. He opened the door. It opened to a winding staircase that went below ground. He held the door open for the old man who went first. He followed without another thought.
The staircase was dark. In fact, there was only one source of light and that was from the creases of a door that lay at the foot of the stairs. Whatever that room was, it was well lit to the point that he could see the outlines of every step, the line in every brick on the wall, yet it was all still shrouded in darkness. Finally, they stood at the door and the old man gestured.
The sounds of pain came to him in a flood. The screams of tortured Mystics were nearly deafening. All that could be heard in between the screams were raucous, derisive laughter. The images before him were beastly and savage. However, he could not turn away. It was almost as if he were a marionette, being held by strings and pushed along.
There were other cadets there, engaged in the most horrific tortures imaginable. A group of men had one creature with its hands tied behind his back, his torso dangling by his feet. The rope that bound his hands and feet were so tight that blood stained the strands. The men hooted and hollered as they slowly lowered the creature into a bucket of water, each placing bets on how long it would take for him to stop thrashing. Another group had another prisoner tied to a table, making tiny cuts into the flesh. Nearly the entire creature's body was covered in blood as it weakly moaned. There were so many other perverse sights in this cramped hell-hole that Jack was forced to see.
"Wake up! Wake up! It's a dream, Jack! It's a dream!"
He tried to shake, but his body did not move at all. However, he could hear thoughts. Thoughts that did not sound like his own. They were thoughts that were full of calls to violence. They sounded like the hooting and hollering of the men. The old man shouted above the din, which all the men slowly obeyed.
"Tonight, we welcome another into our fold," the old man stated.
The men shouted out a single word chant and fell deadly silent.
The old man turned toward Jack. He could feel a hand grip his shoulder. "This poor lad had lost his family to the Mystics when they invaded his hometown. They slaughtered his family like cattle. Those who surrendered were promised leniency." The old man's grip tightened and he shook with fury, "T'was not given to them."
The room was silent. He began again, "My son," his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and regained his composure, "My son fell victim to Magus' hand. He burned him. He burned him like a log. And his friend fled for his own life, leaving him to die!"
There was no cheer, but an atmosphere of anger and frustration. The other cadets clenched their teeth, their brows furrowed. Only the pathetic whimpering of the tortured and the crackling of torches were heard. The old man began, "T'was no brother of his! But we - we are all brothers!"
The cheer came up again, the cadets hooting and hollering.
"The king of Guardia doth order his puppet, the King of Porre, that we sink not to the level of these creatures. That these filthy beings don't get their own justice. Thou must all bear the loss of thine families, never to see their punishment. I asketh thou, my brothers, is that justice?"
"NO!" came the reply.
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth!"
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth!" All the cadets said back, almost reverently.
The old man turned toward Jack again. "Now, my newly trusted cadet, thou shalt become our brother. We have all lost our families to the Mystic invasion. And now, we welcome you into the fold with a gift." The hand pushed Jack toward a table. Upon that table, dressed only in a loincloth, was a Mystic whose mouth was gagged, his eyes wide with horror.
Jack could feel a grin spread across his face and his heart speed up in exhilaration. But in his mind he shouted. He tried to move but his arms felt as if they were made of lead even as they moved on their own. He watched on in horror as his hands did horrible, ungodly things. He begged and screamed within himself to be able to at least close his eyes.
And suddenly, he was in darkness.
He gasped. The men were gone. The instruments of torture, the smell of blood, the gasps of pain, all gone. Jack felt the strength of his legs go and he fell backwards onto the ground. His hand struck something and made an audible crunch. He fidgeted in the darkness and picked up the item, feeling it with his hands. There was a grimy substance that covered it, almost like soot. It was like a hollow dome with tiny jagged pebbles at the end. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he peered closer. He held it up to his face and saw it was a skull.
He couldn't scream. It came out as a rasp, his feet and hands furiously pushing himself away from the pile of fire-bleached bones. There was soot everywhere. He felt himself bump up against the wall and he hyperventilated. His eyes darted left and right, trying desperately to see anything at all. He could make out a fair bit of light from the direction he came. Was he in the basement after all?
"Cadet, thou'rt needed."
Jack shrunk against the wall. He could barely see the outline of an old man standing before him. He could see, even in the darkness, that he was smiling. It was at this moment that Jack found his strength and rose to his feet. He dashed toward the faint light and burst through a wooden door that was weakened with age. He fell on his face and scrambled to his hands and knees. He could hear the sound of heavy plate mail. He turned around and saw something large, glimmering in the darkness. He could not scream. But he could move. He reached out and felt the first step of the winding staircase. He started up his way, seeing the light of the door that would lead him out into the hallway. There was light coming from the door. It must have been morning. His hands found the door and went for the knob before he felt his feet being jerked out from underneath him.
His face smacked the ground with a sickening crunch, but he still scrambled for the doorway with his hands. He could hear footsteps on the other side. His voice began to come back. He opened his mouth to scream, but felt something big, cold, and strong cover his mouth.
He could feel puffs of air tickle his ear. The voice was different. It was stronger, more sinister, "Jack, my new cadet...art thou a Mystic spy, by chance?"
Jack could hear the conversation through the doorway. The specter, massive and strong, held him with a grip of iron. It felt as if his whole body were paralyzied, as if a great weight were pressed on him.
His friends were calling for him. He could hear their footsteps. He could hear one of them say, "Hey, what is that on the floor there?"
Jacks' eyes went wide. Another voice, "Is that his torch? Did he get scared and ran off last night?" The voices laughed on the opposite side of the door, unaware of the terror Jack experienced just a few yards away.
Jack struggled, hot tears streaming down his face. That was why the old man told him to leave the torch there after all. He felt his body move again, slowly as he was being dragged, the light of the doorway growing further away with each step.
"Well, I guess we better go home. I suppose we will have to give him a hard time the next time we see him."
Jack could hear the doors in the foyer a world away shut just as he was pulled down the last step Suddenly, there was light again coming from the dungeon. The noise of rowdy men filled his ears, chanting his name. He felt himself violently twisted around so that he was now on his back, looking up at the demon. He was towering, almost reaching the ceiling. He could see a similarity between him and the old man. His eyes widened with horror as he realized he had seen men bound to the world, trapped in their ancestral home with those who followed them. Cyrus looked down at him and said with a twisted grin, "Trying to escape? Thou must be a Mystic spy. Fear not, dear cadet. We know full well what to do with a Mystic down here."
His screams were long and loud, but were heard by nobody as Jack was dragged into the dungeon. The chanting continued all through the day, in the darkest recesses of the Astor estate where light did not go. It wasn't until night fell that the chanting and screaming stopped and it never reappeared until a visitor dared to come to the Astor estate. There would be others in the future who found themselves in that nightmare. However, there was always a new voice that cheered, a new set of additional hands that pulled those who screamed into the dark, another new set of soulless eyes that did the work of their dark hearts without mercy.
Nobody ever saw Jack again.
Magus looked out the window. He chewed his lip, feeling intense guilt. Everyone had been respectfully silent as Glenn paced, his fear mounting. It was with trepidation that Magus broke the silence.
"Glenn...I am a monster."
Glenn looked to him and said with as much of a light-hearted tone he could muster, "And thou hast realized this now?"
Magus' answer was curt and abrupt insomuch that it caught Glenn off guard. "I am!" Everyone turned to look at him, wondering what caused him to sound so anguished. Upon seeing that all eyes were upon him, Magus did not face them and stared out the window again. "Do you not remember your fight at Zenan Bridge? Do you not remember how the souls of the dead fought against you? Have you ever wondered how such a thing is possible?"
Glenn did not answer him, but listened intently.
"Pain." Magus said with a self-loathing grimace. "Unbelievable, soul altering pain."
"What did you do to them?" Lucca asked.
"For most men, we would torture them day and night. Using the power of Lavos, I taunted them with illusions. We would give them poison which cursed them with feverish dreams. We would cut them, sometimes cut off an arm or leg only to let them sit in a cell as the wound became infected. They would often become delirious. And then, only when their mental faculties were weakened did the process begin."
Ayla, Lucca, and Marle had a look of shock while Glenn's eyes began to glower. "What process?" Glenn said, his venom focusing on the last word.
"We would offer them an out. To swear their souls to us. And then in their madness they were bound, held to this earthly plane by their madness."
"You are a monster." Glenn spat, remembering the names of those he served with. Names that were taken captive by Magus during the war.
Magus' eyes were cold, but accepting. He only nodded. "Yes. I am. But, that is not the worst of it."
Chrono's eyes widened. Although he knew much more than most men, he did not know all things. However, he arrived at the revelation before Magus told it. His eyes went to Glenn uneasily.
"Glenn, I tried to do the same to Cyrus and succeeded far beyond my expectations."
"He was dead!" Glenn said, his teeth clenching.
"Yes." Magus said, his voice getting quiet. "He was. But it was not long. I revived him. And I did the most horrible and vile things to him. And I did it for a long time. He went mad, Glenn. He lost who he was. I-I am so-"
"SPEAK IT NOT! DO NOT SAY SORRY!" Glenn yelled, the sound reverberating throughout the cabin.
"I must say it, Glenn." Magus did not shed a tear and his face hid all emotion. He was still as a statue. But his neck tensed and he had to choke the words out. He waited, but Glenn said nothing as he stood there, his jaw clenched. Magus nodded, acknowledging something unspoken between them and turned toward the window again.
He continued to say, "This is no ordinary burst in the storm. It is the Black Wind. An omen. All those years ago, Cyrus finally passed even beyond all my efforts to keep him alive. I tried to make the pain last as long as I could. Regardless of his short-comings, he was a strong and valiant soul. Those are the hardest to break, but make the strongest servants. I wanted him added to my cause desperately. In those days I only thought of the pain needed to summon Lavos."
The wind rattled the window, the rain splattering it so heavily only the occasional flash of lightning could be seen. Magus sighed, "I tortured him for thirty days, Glenn, before his body stopped. But, he never rose again. I thought I had failed. But now, after hearing what Chrono had to say, I know what this wind is now. I felt it on the way here, but said nothing."
Glenn looked around, "How is that possible? If he did not rise, what happened?"
"The spirit and the body are like magnets. What Chrono spoke about was illuminating. Souls drifting through the eternities trying to find a body to inhabit...It sounds fantastical, but in terms of what I tried to do, it made sense. Just like magnets, they are drawn to each other until the charge just...dissipates. Just as Chrono mentioned, there are those who go to the other side and stay in anguish. I did not know this until he said so. But it explains the process of putting a soul in anguish so that when you bind the soul they are blinded to the world around them. You try to make a nightmare a reality you cannot wake from. They become vessels of a vengeful spirit. However, this is different. Cyrus' body never rose again. If his spirit is here…"
Magus struggled to put it into words, but had trouble phrasing it. Chrono filled it in for him, "He does not have a body to defeat. Even Masa and Mune had bodies they inhabited, but Cyrus is purely spirit. All that lives on is his rage and sorrow. And if that is the case…"
Magus finished the point, nodding to Chrono, "he is doing the same to others. He is force all unto his own. And unlike the specters you faced in my castle, he has no body to defeat. In other words, we cannot simply end him."
Robo looked over the others and then to Magus, "What if we made him possess a body? Is that something we could do?"
Magus shook his head, "No. An angry spirit is one that detests everything about the physical world and only wants to see it reduced to ashes. It would never accept another vessel."
"So, how do we win?" Ayla asked, her eyes looking to Chrono.
"We have to purge his regret, and that is why Glenn is here."
Glenn looked to Chrono, his head cocked, "Are you saying it is as easy as talking to him?"
Chrono shrugged, "I don't know. I've never done this before."
Glenn half smirked. "Well, at the very least I have thy confidence."
"Always." Chrono said with a smile.
Glenn sighed deeply. His gloved hands kept flexing, his body and soul dreading what was coming next. Everyone took that as a sign and rose to their feet. Gingerly, as if he felt it was wrong to even touch him, Magus' hand fell on Glenn's shoulder. Glenn did not brush it off. Magus said, "Be prepared. Although his soul is wild, he knows you. He will want to make you like him. He will say whatever he can to make you despair."
Glenn nodded and lead the team out the door.
In the short time they left the barracks to cross over to the mansion they were drenched. The foyer was dark save for the hole in the roof toward the east wing. Water cascaded down the opening, working its way through the grout in the tile. Time had seen to it that more tiles were warping and popping out of the floor. More dust had accumulated where any dry spots remained. A bright light illuminated the walls as lightning struck, it's thunder rattling with the walls with its close proximity.
"Did you see that?" Lucca asked. Everyone turned to where Lucca pointed and saw nothing. "I swear," she started defensively, "I thought I saw something like animal eyes staring at us. They were flashing in the dark."
"You aren't crazy," Chrono said, "be on your guard. They are going to try and mess with us."
The walked in formation, all their back facing each other while their fronts faced outward. As they progressed they could hear the occasional shuffling of feet or a pair of shining eyes in the darkness. Lucca started to conjure up a flame but was stopped by Robo, "That would do nothing, Miss Lucca…"
"We have to do something...they are tightening their grip on us. They keep moving in closer."
Lucca was right. By this point everyone had seen shining eyes, peering at them from the darkness. In some cases, it was a silhouette they could make out in the shadows. But they never moved. They stared, but did nothing else. It was only when the group turned their attention away from them for even a second that they either got closer or a new set of eyes appeared next to them.
"I do not mean to alarm you, Glenn, but we need to act fast." Robo stated cooly.
"Aye," Glenn said, his eyes squinting. "I doth regret my eagerness to jump into the fray. I know not what we should do!"
They had reached a part of the mansion where the roof collapsed years ago. A cascade of water poured in from the rafters around the edges of the hole, but it was heavy rain that came in intermittent drops toward the center. As they stepped into the rain, they could see the area around them was at least lighter than the darkness of the mansion. They also noted that there were now hundreds of eyes watching them from the darkness, forming a circle around them. Shadowy tendrils that looked like hands would reach out toward them, trying to grasp their clothes but were out of reach.
"What are they doing?" Ayla asked, flipping wet hair out of her eyes.
Robo looked around, being the first to realize that they were encircled, "It looks like they want us to be right here."
The group thought frantically as water continued to fall all around them. It sounded louder than regular rain until they suddenly realized that it wasn't just rain they were hearing. It sounded like the urgent whispers of hundreds of voices. At times, it sounded as if they were hissing while they reached out, unable to make a connection. Magus looked around, his scythe out and at the ready, staring at them perplexed. Suddenly his eyes caught something and went wide.
"Glenn!"
Glenn turned around and reached for the hilt of his sword, but the apparition was already coming toward him. There was no form to the phantom. It moved through the rain, whatever force it exerted showing in the drops. Waves of water came down an invisible figure or droplets clang to what seemed to be thin air. However, there was the sound of rushing air and Glenn's eyes saw drops of water being cut in two before his eyes.
A flash of steel nearly blinded Glenn as Magus thrust his scythe in front of him. Magus, knowing the nature of his opponent, used his knowledge of the elements to strengthen his arm. To an ordinary being, it would have been akin to kicking a pole cemented in place. The invisible cleaver collided with Magus' scythe and it held due to the aetherial energy that flowed through his arm. However, Magus felt a painful shudder throughout his entire arm. He could feel the tendons snap and twist from the kinetic energy. He grit his teeth, his skull rattling from the force of the blow.
Glenn took advantage of the opportunity and finished unsheathing the Masamune, swinging it through his target in a wide arc. He had swung it with so much force he sacrificed his footing, falling forward with wide-eyed surprise when it felt as if he hadn't connected at all. Glenn fell to his knee, taking his eye off the target. He felt Magus foot push him violently by the shoulder, sending him sliding across the floor while the invisible clever crushed the ground Glenn occupied a moment ago.
"You can't hurt him!" Magus shouted, his voice irate and strained from pain.
"How can we possibly beat him then?"
"Thou canst beat me, traitor."
Glenn felt the blood drain from his face. He was preparing to face off with Cyrus, but this voice was one he knew from his days as a boy. He felt years of history flashing through his mind. He recalled that same voice addressing him with the same hostility at the very beginning of his squireship, only then he was pauper from the worst slum of Porre. He remembered the eventual softening of the voice as he saw Glenn's kindness and honesty, eventually standing up for him against the protests from the aristocracy of Porre.
Glenn stood, noticing the figure stopped its assault. "Astor? 'Tis thee?"
"Aye, 'tis I."
Glenn was prepared this time. The cleaver came again, still invisible save for the pathway it cut through the raindrops. He ducked and rolled, the Masamune still in his hand. He popped to his feet, seeing that Astor advanced toward him. He stretched out his hand, the water all around him obeying his command. It came up in a heavy spray and hung in the air, marking where Astor moved.
"Now!"
Astor paused in the midst of the water as everyone save Magus focused on his position. The water about his body froze while another part turned to explosive steam and fire. Lightning struck the water, causing the whole thing to evaporate in a blinding flash. They stood, as the steam cleared, watching the center.
The figure was gone.
"Did we get him?" Lucca asked.
They looked around, noticing the eyes watching them expectantly from the shadows. Then, there was the sound of air whooshing above them. Ayla gasped as something moved toward Marle. She dashed forward as she shouted "Giga Gaia" toward Robo. He recalled the moment where she had been struck by lightning, allowing her body to be fueled by the power of the elements. Having complete trust in her plan, he cast the spell, hoping the spell did not hurt her. An invisible sword came down upon Ayla's upraised arm.
She grit her teeth and yelled, pushing her feet against the ground. She laughed in triumph as the force bit into her, the force of the blow crushing the ground beneath her. It did not draw blood, nor did she feel much pain.
"How did you-?"
Ayla parried more blows that incapacitated Magus' arm. She shouted at the monster in between grunts of effort, "You wasted your chance. I was ready for you."
"Wert thou?"
Another force came. It did not hurt Ayla whose skin was reinforced by Robo's magic, but the ground at her feet began to crack. Suddenly, the floor gave way with Marle and Ayla both falling into darkness. Robo could see the floor beginning to collapse. He planted his feet, focusing on the ground itself, willing it to stay together.
"Impressive, but not enough."
Robo's concentration was broken as something strong punched his chassis, leaving a sizeable dent. He went flying back into the shadows where arms wrapped around him. He thought nothing of it, trying to move forward as if he were going to be bursting out of a pool, but was alarmed when he found he could not move.
It felt as if nothing were touching him, yet he could not move. It was almost as if he were buried in cement, but could see the outside world in front of him. The floor gave way without his strength and everyone fell into the darkness below. He could feel himself sinking into the floor and the creatures whispered for him to hear.
"All come to eventually join us. Even you."
The darkness slowly gave way to a light. They were in a dungeon, all standing in a circle unable to move. Although they were facing the person who addressed them in the middle, they could see everyone and all noticed that Glenn was the only one who was absent.
"He hath abandoned you, you know."
The man who stood was very dignified. He had a nearly regal bearing, as if he were high born. However, he moved with a certain fluidity that made him seem unreal. He took a candle that sat on the table and used it to light a few more, revealing that they were in a dungeon. None were bound yet they could only move their eyes.
"Thou hast lost consciousness for quite some time. We could not wait until you all awoke, so we had to give the choice to him."
Everyone felt a pain in their left leg, as if they had been pricked by a needle. Although it was sharp and sudden, no gasp escaped their lips. However, Astor did turn to Robo and said, "Hmm...how interesting...thou couldst feel nothing. Art thou a doll of some kind, stirred into being by magic? Well, 'tis a shame we cannot torture thee but perhaps it will be a different entertainment of sorts. Mayhaps we shall take thee apart, piece by piece and melt the whole of you down while your eyes still watch as thou beg us to let thee exist?"
Astor walked, circling around the room. "Thou hath fought with more strength than I have seen of any Mystic, but in this place your power is naught. This may be our prison, but in this prison we are gods. Thou canst move until I will it so. Thou canst speak until I will it so. You shall not die until it is my wish because I will it so. My brethren hold thee, control thee, and will do as they please with thee. And all of this will happen because thy comrade traded his life for thine, just as he did to my son so many years ago."
Another prick came. All could see that there was nobody around administrating the pain. Was this another strange power that he had over them? Was any of this real. As their minds pondered on this, Astor seemed to grow more annoyed, "Yes, this shall be thy fate, for thy supposed friend betrayed thee. This shall be your reward."
The pain that came next was excruciating yet none could scream. Their eyes went wide from the shock. Tears streamed down Marle's face. However, something soothed her and her tears stopped, as if she suddenly knew everything was going to be okay.
Astor stood, dumbfounded. "He abandoned thee. That is why you are here."
The pain came again, but it was not nearly as intense as it was before. Astor stood there, dumbfounded. His face contorted into violent rage, "Art thou daft? Hast thou no understanding of the pain that lays before thee? Doth thou not comprehend his betrayal?" The pain came, but it was very slight, almost as if it were a scratch.
"WHY! WHY DO YOU NOT ACCEPT THAT HE HATH ABANDONED THEE?"
"Because we know it is a lie. Even us being here for a long time was a lie." Chrono could move, as did everyone else. The pain they felt was gone. They all stepped forward, no longer bound by whatever force held them. They were confused, but at the same time relieved.
"He did it to my boy! Dost thou think he would never do it again?"
"He never left your son. He fought for him until his body gave out."
"It was lies! He lies!"
Magus spoke, "I killed your son. I was there."
Astor looked toward him, hate filling his eyes, "And you dare lie to me? To my face? After thou hast taken my son?"
Magus shook his head, "I have seen Glenn's soul. I have tried doing to him what you have tried here. He would never abandon your son."
"He is one of the best men I know!" Ayla shouted.
"You could never tell us otherwise!" Lucca laughed, her hands on her hips.
"He's family." Marle said, a strong determination in her voice.
"He is the purest soul I know." Robo responded.
Then, suddenly, out of the darkness another figure stepped forward. It was Glenn, moving as if he were in pain. His eyes were wet with emotion that he tried to hold back. They all turned to him, surprised to see him. He hung his head low and said, "I knew that we cared for each other...but to see the extent of it…"
The party had ignored Astor who slumped to the ground. They approached Glenn. He looked at them and said, "I see what it was now. 'Twas like no other enemy we fought before. Strength instills fear into us, but with these spirits it is the opposite: fear gives them strength. It only when we fear them that we give them power to control us. He hath told me that in thy hearts I was detestable, that I was of no worth. That I did not deserve forgiveness even after all we accomplished."
"And you believed him?" Lucca said with a scoff.
"Aye." Glenn said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.
"Well, that makes you an idiot." Lucca said with a grin, "It's been ten years. Don't you think you have made up for whatever wrong you never did by now?"
Glenn chuckled, "Dost thou all really believe in me so much, that I could be forgiven?"
Marle put her arm gently on Glenn, but then stooped down to give him a hug. He half-returned it, another tear rolling down his cheek. He pat her on the back and walked past the group toward Astor.
He knelt down in front of him and put his hand on Astor's shoulder. "I am so sorry I was not strong enough to save thy son."
Astor shook his head, "'Twas I. I hath abandoned him. I had pushed him away."
"No, no," Glenn began hurriedly, "Thou wert a wondrous father. He loved thee with all that heart."
"And I sent him to Guardia," Astor said, looking down to the ground. "I put those ideas of greatness into his head. I canst remember the last time I told him I loved him…"
"He always knew, sire."
His hand found Glenn's. He looked him in the eyes, "Speakest thou truly? Did my son truly love me? Did he speak fondly of me?"
"Aye."
Astor stared upward, tears rolling down his cheek. "That was my greatest regret, Glenn. While it meant the end of my family line, while it meant I would never seen him again, my greatest sorrow was that I never got to tell him how proud I was to have him as my son." He looked toward Glenn and asked, "Glenn, my ward. What I ask of thee is daunting; wouldst thou carry my family name?"
"If thou consider me worthy of it, I shall. Thy family name shall live on."
Astor nodded, "'Tis good that after all these years I realized that God had given me two sons. I have done much evil and for that I must begin my penance. I go to rest, now, Glenn."
His grip strengthened on Astor's hand and it grew weaker and weaker. "Aye, rest now. I know thy wife waits for you." At those words a beaming smile crossed Astor's face. He spoke more words, but they were inaudible as he faded away. There was the sound of a door opening and the party turned in shock at the noise. Shadowy creatures moved out from the dungeon and toward the doorway. As they passed through the doorway their forms dissipated and vanished, some uttering a barely audible "thank you".
Glenn rose from his spot, smiled, and said, "I know where we can find Cyrus. Come. Let us free him as well."
Cyrus was no longer the hulking monster in the history of those five boys we witnessed earlier. The animosity was gone from his soul, his form being as Glenn remembered. He stood on the pier, staring off across the ocean toward Guardia. They stood in the eye of the storm, the light of the night sky beaming down and shining off his armor. His face was peaceful and serene.
"Thy very presence brings me, peace, Glenn."
Glenn said nothing, barely able to look at him. Cyrus smiled and turned about, "Do you mean to tell me that thou still canst look at me in the face? Thou still harborest guilt?"
Glenn began to cry, his hand going over his face.
Cyrus had chuckled, but he stopped and spoke softly. "I had let my delusions of power overcome me, but 'twas not the reason why Magus played with my spirit so. 'Twas not the sole reason he was able to keep me alive, Glenn."
He walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder, even as Glenn continued to cry. "It was thee, my friend. I worried for thee. I worried for my father. It worried for my queen and king. I worried that Eliza would die without a man to love her. I could not rest because of the virtues that thou hast taught me."
Glenn scoffed in between his tears, "Virtues? Which ones? 'Those who run away live to fight another day?'"
Cyrus laughed, "No. Selflessness, Glenn. Even now thou carriest the weight because thou didst not have enough to give. You gave all that thou hadst. There is no shame in that. There is no shame in survival. Dost thou not recall that I ordered thee to run?"
Cyrus walked to the end of the pier, beckoning Glenn to do the same. He followed and did as Cyrus did. They sat at the edge of the pier, their legs hanging over the side as they did during those summers years ago. Cyrus continued, "That was perhaps one virture I had over thee, Glenn. I was able to forgive myself. I made decisions as a knight captain that would have crushed thee, to tell thee the truth, Glenn. Thou'rt a purer soul than I. Thou'rt a better swordsman than I. But thou let thy love consume thee whole. You let thy failures cling to thee; to weigh thee down." Cyrus laughed to himself, "I chastise thee, but 'twas the same thing that bound me to this place. 'Twas the very thing that called my spirit back to this place when I finally gave up the ghost. I could feel the madness of my father, and I could not leave him in sorrow. However, in his state, he could not see me. I was but one of his many cadets, carrying out his will, and his sorrow warped me."
"Thou was one of those shadowy specters?" Glenn asked.
"Aye, and thou hast freed me, dear friend." Cyrus placed a hand on his shoulder.
Cyrus looked at him and Glenn felt a powerful sensation in the pit of his stomach. It caused the blood to drain from him as he felt the power of his words, "Carry not this burden longer, Glenn. I cannot remove it from thee; only thyself. I bear thee no ill will. Feel no guilt for living. I want thee to live. Live the life that I cannot live. Please, my friend. Live thy life for me. Find that girl, have children, take my lands and till them. Live, Glenn."
Glenn wept while Cyrus sat next to him, his arm around Glenn's shoulders. He looked over the ocean, a smile on his face. He breathed in deep. "I can feel my bounds to this world slipping. I must go, Glenn. And do not ask me to stay. It feels as if I am about to go on a great journey. I am so full of excitement I can barely stand still."
"Go, brother." Glenn said, "I shall take care of things here."
Cyrus nodded. The eye of the storm was passing and the storm was back again. However, it was not the furious tempest it once was. It was a steady rain that joined the ocean which drifted calmly and peacefully. "I left a gift for thee in the study where father spent much of his time. I think you will like it."
He rose to his feet, looked at Glenn with a smile and leapt into the ocean. Glenn gasped in shock, but was stunned in surprise as he landed on the water, his feet only going in about an inch. Cryus laughed at his surprise and said, "What? Did you think a ghost can sink?"
Glenn bellowed out in laughter, "You fool! How undignified canst thou get?"
Cyrus chuckled, "Aye, well, 'tis better this way. I prefer to see thee smiling when I leave instead of weeping like some love-struck maiden."
"Fah!" Glenn said, tossing a rock from the pier so that it splashed in the water close to Cyrus.
They both laughed. After a few moments, Cyrus nodded. "I want to stay and talk. I feel as if I could talk with thee forever…"
Glenn smiled, "All is well, friend. Perhaps this life is merely a blink of an eye to thee. Perhaps the wait for thee may not be that long. You may go."
Cyrus nodded, "'Til we meet again…"
He turned about, walking out over the ocean. His form slowly faded and then he was gone. Glenn sat at the edge of the pier while the party watched him, the women crying. They said nothing and turned back to go inside the barracks where they spoke in hushed tones over what they witnessed.
Meanwhile, Glenn continued to sit out on the pier, staring out over the ocean as the clouds eventually faded away. The moon beamed down over the ocean and the stars twinkled in the sky. Within the sheath the Masamune glowed, but Glenn paid it no mind. He asked himself questions and thought of missed opportunities until the sun rose the next morning.
"Good morning, friends."
All slowly rose after hearing the knocking on the door frame. They addressed him sleepily. He motioned to them all and said, "I am curious as to this gift that Cyrus left behind. Couldst thou accompany me?"
They walked through the mansion. The tiled floor was still covered in puddles from the rain. However, the oppressive aire that sat in the mansion was gone. Before going to the study, Glenn explored the dungeon. The scene that was there the previous night was gone. All he could see was everything in ashes. He correctly surmised that at some point a fire got out of control during a night where Astor and his men engaged in debauchery and somehow they were unable to escape. It could have been that Astor locked his men in there and he killed himself later. It could have been anything. The important thing was that Glenn ascertained that there was no permanent structural damage. The estate could be repaired and improved upon.
"Well, we have finally accomplished what we have set out to do. Shall we go to the study?"
The study was well preserved, albeit dusty. Just as the youth had seen five years ago, it was devoid of books or any other objects. However, above the fireplace on its mantle sat a portrait. It was a handsome young man, dressed in the robes of a commander.
Lucca gasped, "Glenn. Is that you?"
Glenn nodded.
"You are gorgeous!" Lucca shut her mouth quickly and blushed. Glenn only laughed.
Ayla laughed, "Well, she is not wrong, eh Marle?"
Marle laughed wrapped her arms around Chrono's arm.
It was silent for a moment longer as everyone expected Glenn to reach for it. Robo started up with some uncertainty, "Well, don't you want to take it with you?"
Glenn smiled and said, "No."
"Why not?" Chrono asked.
"Why take it with me when I shall just come back here?" Glenn turned to his friends. "I have focused too much on the past. I have spent the better of ten years living in regret. No more. I will tell Eliza that I love her. I will take her as my wife. I do not care what our children may look like. I shall raise them and love them as much as my parents loved me. I will serve my wife with all the strength and dedication that I shall serve the king and queen of Guardia. I will take the Astorian name upon myself and I will live for Cyrus. This form is no representation of my failures. It is a badge of honor and I shall wear it as such. I am Glenn of Astor and I will no longer shirk from my duties."
"IT'S ABOUT TIME!"
The party shrieked in surprise. A blinding light came from within the sheath that held the Masamune. Glenn, startled, threw the sword to the ground. A familiar pair of voices called out from inside the sheath.
"Hey! That wasn't very nice!"
"Yeah! Let us out already!"
Glenn and Chrono looked at each, confused. Glenn walked over to the Masamune and undid the button that held it in place. He yelped in surprise as the sword flew from the sheath and hovered in the air. A great light emitted from it, insomuch that everyone had to cover their eyes. When the light dimmed they could see two familiar spirits in front of them.
"Do you understand how frustrating it was, having to sit and listen to you go on and on about the past?" Said Masa..
"Seriously. We are wind spirits. You put us in a sword that can only realize its full potential when it is in the hands of someone who lives by the idea of freedom. And then we are given to THIS guy. Why not just keep us in a bottle?"
Glenn looked at his companions and said haltingly, "Um, I- I am sorry?"
Masa and Mune looked at each other and nodded. "You are forgiven. Just, don't have a pity party like that ever again, okay?
"Really. You are worthy, alright? You always have been. I mean, you wouldn't have been able to use it as well as you have been if you weren't. Now. Are you done with all the self-pity?"
Glenn was taken aback, "A-art thou asking me?"
"YES!" Masa shouted, "Are you done with all the self-pity?"
Glenn, still a bit surprised at this turn of events, gave a hesitant but sincere, "Aye…"
Mune smirked, "You heard him, Masa! Are you ready to cut loose?"
Masa laughed and said, "As if you even had to ask."
As if they were two magnets of pure light, they collided back together. The party shielded their eyes as a blinding light filled the study one last time. The Masamune hovered in the air in front of Glenn along with the sheath. Glenn gasped in surprise. The blade was breathtaking. It's finish was polished to a mirror-like shine. It almost seemed to glow from within. Glenn reached out for it. It was as light as a feather. He felt the edge of the blade. It was dangerously sharp.
"This is the finest sword I hath seen in my life."
"It has a downside," Lucca began, "it appears you have some noisy tenants."
Glenn laughed, "Aye, but perhaps a little bit of liveliness is what I need now. Regardless, I am ready and worthy to wield it now. I won't think twice."
He took the blade and slung it over his back. As he did he felt a certain power come over him. It felt great. It was as if he felt a warm summer breeze blowing over his skin. He felt taller, warmer, and stronger. He no longer felt burdened in his soul and felt the excitement of a man ready to experience a whole life that stretched out before him. It felt as if he were sick man that overcame his disease and could feel the goodness of the world with no pain.
He turned around and said, "Well, shall we go? I am sure we can employ the-"
He was cut short. All his friends appeared frightened. He looked at them in surprise and confusion. "What is it? What has thee in such surprise?"
"Glenn?" Lucca said, approaching him, her eyes relaxing from surprised to bizarre fascination, "Is that really you?"
Glenn laughed and said, "What. Has an imposter took my spot in the last few seconds?"
His laughter faded into silence as they still appeared bewildered. It wasn't until Lucca took a step forward and reached her hand out that he realized they seemed shorter. She touched his face at the cheek and the sensation was different. She then took her hand and brushed it through his hair.
In his mind he thought: how could I be feeling her hands running through hair?
He could feel the long forgotten sensation of hair pulling at a scalp. It was then he suddenly realized; they didn't grow shorter. He grew taller. He was suddenly mindful of strands of hair that feel over his eye, the feeling of air on his skin, how it seemed his clothes were tighter than they should be.
"A mirror. Where is a mirror?"
He was frantic, looking for any reflective surface. He was slightly frustrated as his friends either laughed in joy or teared up. He was desperate, asking his friends why they didn't help him; but they just kept smiling as if they saw something wonderful that he couldn't see. "A mirror! Why won't you help me find a mirror! Please!"
"Your hands!" Chrono shouted, coming forward to still Glenn. "Take off your gloves!"
Of course! Glenn saw his arms in front of them. So anxious and nervous was he that he failed to notice that his arms were strong, tan, and human. He was focused on the gloves; the gloves that hid his shame from his eyes. The gloves that covered his failures. He was so anxious that he couldn't undo them and cursed himself. Ayla come forward, shushed him, and undid the buckles for him. She slid off and Glenn gasped at the sight.
Human hands. The same hands he used to use when he brushed Eliza's face lovingly. The same hands that worked as a baker's apprentice in his youth. They went to his face he caressed it, going every detail. His nose, his eyes, his jaw, his cheeks.
"Is-is this real?"
Even when they did eventually find a reflective surface for him to use, he could still not believe it. It took him several hours to get over the shock. He walked back to Chorus, a bound in his step as he came to accept that the curse was removed from him.
He asked that his friends see to the details of bringing the restoration of the mansion be put in place. He went to his cabin while no other crew members were around. He knelt at his bedside, offering thanks to the almighty, staining his bedsheets with tears of joy. He spoke of promises that he would fulfill and how he would live every day of his life to the fullest and how he would never take another day alive for granted ever again.
"Are you sure? I mean, don't you think she would like to know?"
The whole party sat in the captain's quarters of the ship. Glenn, used to his old form, was now in clothes that fit him. Over his head he wore a mantle, even within his quarters. Although it had been ten years he did not want to risk anyone recognizing him just yet.
"She will find out," Glenn said with a smile. "She will find out when I return and propose to her on the spot. Besides you, my friends, she shall be the first to know. She deserves that right more than anyone else. Then, I shall tell the world after her. But for now, I wait."
The romantic that lay in Lucca raged, "Why not just do it now? Don't you know how happy she would be?"
"Aye, and her happiness would be contagious." Glenn said with a nod. "I would not want to leave her side ever again, I would be so happy. But to make a better world for her, I cannot stop yet. There is far too much unfinished business and I cannot leave it only to thee."
"So you plan on fighting Lavos?" Chrono asked.
"Aye. The joy I felt that night…" Glenn stopped for a moment and said, "I wish for everyone to feel that same elation I felt. I wish for everyone to feel that joy. It feels wrong to lay claim to it only for myself."
Ayla nodded, "Sometimes the leader has to let the other people feast first before they can."
"Something telleth me thou don't always follow that maxim, Ayla." Glenn said, flashing a cheeky and playful grin.
"Ha!" Ayla guffawed slapping him on the back, "Look at you! Already so panganayad!"
"Well, I suppose if that is the case, we are ready to head back to Guardia?" Robo asked.
"Aye, go ahead and give them the order. We will just tell them that I stayed behind to handle other business so that people believe I am there."
Within an hour the ship headed north toward the estate. It was another half day as several workers unloaded supplies that would eventually be bound for the Mystic nation. Already workers from town had begun restoration on the Astorian estate, confident that the hero of Porre dispelled any rumors of ghosts or monsters in the place.
Glenn, still incognito, handed a pair of letters to one of his most conscientious workers who was to stay behind. He said it was to be delivered to Eliza. Within that letter were his feelings and his promises of future plans. He wrote that he had other business to accomplish before he could take a much needed rest, but the day where his service would not be as sorely needed was rapidly approaching and that his days would be focused on her. The second letter was addressed to her father, asking for his daughter's hand in marriage and that it would be no more than a season until he returns. He requested that all correspondence be sent to Guardia.
He had written the letters as they sailed and given them to his man when they landed at the estate. The crew was about ready to pack and go when he could hear the same man calling out for him. The man arrived breathless, saying that he was instructed to deliver the letters to Guardia and that it was of the utmost importance. Glenn nodded, took the letters, and went to his cabin.
He opened the letter and saw that it was the letter he wrote to her father. His eyebrows raised as he scanned over the letter and noticed more writing at the bottom. He felt his heart tremble with joy as he read the two lines. The first was strong writing that he recognized from Eliza's father: "Yes-with all of my blessing."
The second line was written with delicate feminine flowing cursive, "Yes, with all of my heart."
Glenn laughed to himself. Of course her father couldn't keep a secret.
Author's note; I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I also hope you enjoyed this slight twist. I figured it would speak to the strength of Glenn's character to do what needs to be done despite the wonderful life he has waiting for him. It's about time he had some happiness, don't you all think? I hope to keep producing as quickly as I have been since you all have been so patient. Once again, thanks for reading!
Translation:
*panganayad - the picture of suave