Chapter I
Déjà vu

It was sunrise. The first streaks of daylight trickled through the thick curtains, intruding upon Crono's dark room. But unaware of the bright beams, Crono slept on; one of his favorite past times. After all, a little sunlight couldn't wake him up. But then, in the distance, there was the faint but clear tone of a single bell, ringing out its sweet music to the surrounding village of Truce. At this Crono stirred, but stubbornly refused to wake up. He would sleep on. But then a voice interrupted his plans.

"Crono!"

He groaned silently, and rolled over, pretending not to have heard. But deep inside, he knew it wouldn't help.

"Crono!" the familiar voice came again, his mother performing what seemed to be a daily ritual. Couldn't he sleep in peace without bells ringing and people shouting at him?

"Good Morning, Crono!" came another call, getting closer. Then the bell rang again, louder this time. Crono opened his eyes suddenly, the sound of the bell still ringing in his ears. That hadn't sounded like Nadia's bell at all; it sounded more like the old Leene's bell that had been taken down and put in glass at the castle. He listened intently to the next ring of the bell, and the haunting sound of Leene's bell came back to him once more. Startled, he sat up. He hadn't imagined it after all.

Then, the door opened suddenly, making Crono jump, and almost making him fall out of bed. The thoughts of the bell went spinning out of his mind. In strode his mother. Judging by the determined look on her face, she was prepared to do battle. She seemed very surprised indeed to see him wide awake—that is, without having to hit him or splash cold water on him. She smiled, looking very pleased. "Well, this has definitely got to be a record. The first time you've been awake this early in the morning other than when you're in mortal danger." He let that pass.

She strode across the room and opened the curtains to reveal the bright sunlight. "Ah," She sighed. "Doesn't Nadia's bell sound lovely in the morning?"

Suddenly, he remembered how the bell had sounded earlier.

"Mom," he said, "Did the bell sound a little odd to you just now? More like Leene's bell?"

She stared at him. "Why, no, it sounded fine to me," she said as the bell rang again, this time in the way it usually did. "See, there's proof there. You must just have been dreaming." She smiled at him, a slightly distant look in her eyes. "Probably having a little déjà vu, thinking back to the morning of the Millennial Fair…"

Crono shook his head, but didn't say anything. He was sure he had been wide awake when he had heard it, and even if he hadn't been, how could he have been mistaken twice? Oh, no, wait a second. He could have dreamt it twice, but it didn't matter. He was certain he had been awake. It didn't bode well with him. He remembered a theory Lucca had once told him about déjà vu. How it could sometimes tell of something in the future as well as feel similar to something that happened in the past. It was a bad omen.

"Anyway," his mother continued, determining by his silence that the conversation was dropped, "You're suppose to meet with Nadia to talk about wedding arrangements at the castle. Oh, and also to get fitted for your robes. Hurry, she's not a patient woman,"

Even as she mentioned wedding plans, he quickly threw off his shirt and replaced it with a clean one, and was already tugging on his boots when all her words sunk in, and he stopped dead. He scowled sullenly at the floor. He thought he had headed off having to wear any garish robes early on, but apparently Nadia didn't think so. Mentally readying himself for being as stubborn as he possibly could (something that Nadia was very good at), he finished tugging on his boots, and stomped them into place. He tied his old orange scarf around his neck, then firmly knotted his white bandana around his forehead, it's familiar feel comforting him somewhat.

He ran down the stairs, finally ready to go, but his mother's call stopped him. "Aren't you going to have some breakfast?"

He shook his head. "Nah, thanks mom. I'll just get some at the castle."

Again, he was about to leave when his mother said, "Oh! I almost forgot! Here's your allowance." She handed him about 200 gold. He smiled. He had forgotten to tell his mom how much money he had made on his journey through time. But his smile was short lived, for the feeling of déjà vu was almost overwhelming. With a muttered thanks, he started for the door, but halted just before it to stare at the wall. There hung the Rainbow Sword, where it had hung in honor for almost two years. It glittered faintly in the morning light, the plain handle polished and fine.

Quickly, he snatched it off the wall and belted it on. Without another word, he hurried off toward the castle, leaving his mother more than a little worried. He ran on without looking back, his thoughts troubled.

A bad omen indeed.

Lucca Ashtear frowned in concentration, pushing a strand of lavender hair back behind one ear. This was the most delicate part, and if she messed up now, it would take her weeks to re-modify things. Her gaze shifted slowly over the crystals and microchips, making sure all was in place. And then, with the utmost care, she connected the final three wires to the main crystals. There: it was done. She heaved a sigh of relief. The period of greatest risk over; now, it was time for the testing.

She hoped she had just made the final adjustments to a project she had been working on for nearly a year. It was something that seemed simple, really, but was much harder than it appeared. She had been trying to devise a machine that would make itself and anything around it invisible. It hadn't been very tough at first, the actual going invisible part, that is. But then, she ran into trouble. At first, Lucca's invention simply made itself invisible, which hadn't helped her at all in fixing the problem. Then, it took so much power output that it drained all her batteries (which were rechargeable, but hard to come by in the year 1002 A.D.) in less than an hour with minor use. Then, when Lucca fixed it by using a crystal that turns light into energy, she accidentally turned everything within three hundred yards of her house invisible for almost two days. Which, of course, made her parents quite distraught—especially her mother. She nearly became ill from feeling like a disembodied pair of eyes, not to mention bumping into everything that had turned invisible. Lucca often wished her mother was a bit more scientific, like her father. Then again, her father never got out either.

Finally, through a lot of firsthand experimentation, (which left bruises on her for several days) she got the right balance. Along the way, she even found out how to make it powerable by magic as well, with a bit of Nadia's help. Gentle magic was more Nadia's territory, and Lucca thought that if she had tried it on her own, she would more likely have burnt her house to a crisp than improved her unique device. But now, it was ready to be tested for use—to make her invisible, objects nearby invisible, and also large objects, like say–a house. Or a time machine…

The thought of Epoch made Lucca turn to regard the Wings of Time. She knew she had said she would dissemble it, but she just didn't have the heart. It's complicated and ingenious design still intrigued her, for she was not yet able to duplicate the warp engine. Yes, Belthazar had been (or was and will be) a brilliant scientist. His ingenuity never ceased to amaze Lucca as she continued to examine it. So, Lucca would always put off taking it apart for another day, hoping that she wasn't too obvious. She had been doing that for two years now, and she'd probably be doing it until the moon fell out of the sky.

She shook her head, waking up from her trance, and got back to the task on hand. She went over to her notebook and began to write.

May 2, 1002

I am continuing my experimentation on the light bending effects of my latest invention, the Shifter. I will conduct several experiments pertaining to the working status, range, power, and accuracy of the apparatus.

Test one: Acute consummation of self-invisibility. I will attempt to configure the Shifter to make only myself and the things on my person invisible, followed by making only certain parts invisible, while other parts remain visible.

Lucca considered the last part of the second sentence for a moment. She shrugged. It may sound a bit risqué, but it would have to do. Abruptly, she giggled, wondering if she could get people's clothes to disappear. She had seen this really handsome boy the other day in Truce, and she wondered what he would…Stop it, she told herself firmly. You've got to get back on task. Trying not to imagine the look on the poor guy's face, she went back to her invention.

The Shifter looked very much like a metal-plated suitcase, all covered in hard, light metal to keep the delicate parts inside from being smashed. She quietly slid it closed, latched the steel panel on the backside, and turned it right side up. After messing with some of the dials and knobs to get the specifications just how she wanted them, she quickly checked over the instruments to see that all was ready. Then, she activated it.

It emitted a quiet tinkling sound, unlike most of Lucca's inventions, (which generally made a great deal of noise), and it caused a slight shift in the air, almost like heat waves. Then abruptly, it stopped. Lucca stared at it for a moment. Every swearword she'd ever heard sprang into her mind, and she slammed her fist down violently on the hard metal. She had been sure it would work! How could it possibly have just—

Then, as suddenly as it stopped, it started up again. The tinkling noise grew louder for a moment, then was replaced by a soft humming sound. And then, with a wink, Lucca disappeared. Her anger turned to satisfaction in the blink of an eye. She turned off the machine. She went and looked into the mirror, and nearly jumped up and down with glee. The effect was perfect. She smiled smugly to herself (because, after all, no one could see it) and for a moment considered scaring her parents. Nah; she didn't want to give her mother a heart attack.

So far, test one was a success. If her data was correct, she should stay that way for about 2 hours. After that she would see if she could get smaller parts of her invisible, like arms or hair. But in the meantime, she could continue with test two; hiding nearby objects. With the Shifter in one hand and a sandwich in the other, she set off for Truce. Oh, this was going to be a fun day indeed.

***

A chill wind swept the snow-covered hills of North Cape, it's icy fingers stretching forward to whip the barren wasteland. And beyond the hills lay a huge mountain range, with jagged, rocky slopes and sheer sides, and boulders worn smooth by centuries of the relentless pounding of the wind-blown snow, giving the impression it had incurred the wrath of some God or demon upon it. On the peak of one of those jagged behemoths stood a lone figure. His black cloak swirled around him in the gale, but the cold did not touch him. His pale face and fine features belied the sheer strength within him, and his pointed ears gave him a somewhat elven look. His dark blue hair waved slightly beneath his hood, and his black leather gloves and leather clothing stood out against the snow. In little less than 12,600 years, he would be the most feared tyrant the world had ever seen. He, was the Magus.

He smiled bitterly at the desolate landscape, the place that he had once called home. Now, the power of the Kingdom of Zeal was shattered, leaving the "Earthbound" and "Enlightened" ones to strive together to survive, and throwing the only one he had ever cared for into some distant place or time just beyond reach. Oh, the irony of the world. The ones that thought themselves above all were thrown into the dirt with the rest to struggle, and the man who thought he could do anything stood helpless to gain the thing which he desired above all others. After exacting his revenge with the help of his allies on his most hated enemy, the alien Lavos, he only had one goal in life. He must find Schala.

Two years he had searched for his sister. Two years of scouring every inch of earth from the mountains on which he stood to the far side of the world, and to no avail. He had even gone into the deep waters of the sea to gaze upon the wreck of the Ocean Palace, had searched it in every possible way, had even blasted parts of it off in order to see more clearly. And all his efforts were wasted. Schala was yet to be found, and he had run out of options. All options, that is, except one.

He had come to the realization some months ago, but had to be sure. Now he was. He must travel time to find her. It was the only way. And he was going to go tonight.

In the weeks previous to his decision to leave this time, Magus had carefully been perfecting a spell that would allow him to open a gate though time, to any major period he wished. But, the spell was very draining, and could only be used once every few hours. It was also very complicated, so it took immense concentration. But Magus was used to that. That is how one became a master of magic. And there was no one greater in magic than Magus.

Hollowly, the name echoed in the vaults of his conscience, haunting him, restraining him like chains and spurring him forward at the same time. He had chosen to still refer to himself by that name, feeling he had not yet earned the right to be called Janus for all the things he has done in his fight against Lavos. He doubted he ever would, but only time would tell. Abruptly, he threw himself from the mountain face into the howling wind, and with his cloak wrapped around his face, flew to the cave nearby that he had made his home.

He entered the sparsely decorated cave, which was kept warm by a magically lit fire that made no smoke. With little fanfare, he collected his few possessions and made ready to go. With supreme concentration, he gathered his energies about him. He had decided to go to the Middle Ages, the time he knew best, to make his search the quickest. Then, with that firmly in mind, he cast his spell.

Suddenly, all the energy seemed to be drained from him, sucked into a swirling blue vortex that appeared in front of him. With superhuman effort, he lunged forward into the gate, sending him well on to the year 600 A.D. Behind Magus, the gate shut with a soft rushing sound, leaving the cave alone with its ever burning fire.

***

The rain drizzled steadily down on the twisted trees of the Cursed Woods. Stray imps and frogs shivered in their hiding places, and the Nu were nowhere to be seen. A misty fog trailed through the air, casting an eerie light about everywhere, and causing an atmosphere that gave the woods their name. A figure masked in the darkness leapt nimbly through the trees, his great bounds taking him easily from treetop to treetop, occasionally landing on the ground only to become airborne again. He knew this forest well; it was his home. Nevertheless, Glenn could not help but feel a little uneasy in this cold and harshly unforgiving place.

But even when he had reached his dwelling (little more then a hovel in the ground hidden by bushes) for some reason the feeling of apprehension did not ebb. He looked cautiously around him, his hand going to the hilt of the Masamune. "Whoever thou art," he challenged the night "show thyself, if thou possess any courage in thee!"

But nothing happened. Nothing moved. All was silent, save for the endless whisper of the falling rain. Grudgingly, Glenn decided he was simply being paranoid. Even so, he thought, I shall sleep lightly tonight. Then, he carefully climbed the latter into the hovel, and promptly went to his bed.

He carefully set the Masamune beside him, within an instant reach if he needed it. It was a needless caution, for if he needed the blade, it would immediately appear in his hands, but even so, it made him feel better. In a very real way, the blade was his friend, and you should always try to keep friends near by. Good night, Glenn! Masa's cheery thought came to him. Sweet dreams! said Mune, not to be out done by his older brother. Silently, he bade them good night, and drifted off to sleep.

Glenn was standing in front of Guardia Castle on a bright summers day. Lion banners flapped triumphantly in the wind, their brilliant red-gold colors reflecting brightly in the afternoon sun. The old castle looked as solid as ever, it's gray battlements and watchtowers gleamed dully, and men patrolled the upper walls with warning horns ready. As Glenn look around, he saw that off to his right a large group of people were gathered on a small grassy knoll just beyond the clear cut field and sheer cliffs surrounding the castle. There were soldiers surrounding it, and Glenn could tell by their uniforms that they came from the year 1000 rather that his era. They had stiff, unadorned blue shirts and breeches, and were nothing at all like the armored and helmeted knights and guardsman he knew. He surmised that 400 some odd years of peace would probably alter the code of dress a bit. But it was still comforting to know that steel clothing would not be in style forever.

As he got closer, he decided that by the arrangement it was to be a royal wedding, like the one he had seen 15 years ago when his king married. Large banners were hung everywhere, and the seats were decked in blue, red, silver, and gold. Tall silver torches were driven into the ground along the red-carpeted center aisle, sparkling with polished brilliance in the sun. Many court officials were gathered, and the chancellor (Glenn could tell it was the chancellor because all chancellors seemed to look the same) was busily hurrying about doing some last minute preperation. There was a general look of excitement in the faces of the spectators, as if this were some momentous occasion that would never happen again.

His interest growing, Glenn increased his pace, afire with curiosity as to who would be wed. He needn't have wondered, for soon he saw a young man with spiky red hair like none other walking down the isle. He looked a bit shaky, but not exactly nervous. He was decked out in a sky blue shirt with a thin silver lining on the cuffs, and loose but formal pants of the same color and design. He wore a simple white bandana and orange scarf, which seemed to be a permanent part of his wardrobe. He reached the end of the aisle, and nodded silently to the priest, as if he knew him. Glenn grinned wordlessly. It looked like Crono was tying the knot at last.

In the distance, he saw the bride. All clothed in white, with a thick vale as was Guardian custom, she without doubt had to be Princess Nadia. She was being led down the aisle by a white-bearded man who was quite obviously the king (judging by the crown on his head) and he seemed enormously pleased with the whole affair. Their stately pace soon carried them to the priest who stood nearby, and the bridesmaids were close on their heels. With a kiss on his daughter's cheek, the king stepped off to one side to stand next to the chancellor. The bridesmaids also settled off to ether side, all decked out in blue and pink silk, bouquets in hand. The bride herself stood excitedly by her future husband, evidently impatient for the ceremony to begin.

Glenn considered joining the fiancés, but then dismissed the idea. He knew his looks would not be welcomed by their guests (a frog-man popping out of the middle of nowhere is a bit disconcerting) so he contented himself with viewing this moment from afar. As the aged priest began to speak, something drew Glenn's eyes. It was the faint shining of metal in the sunlight, in among the bride's maids. At first, he assumed it was simply a pendant or something of the like the young lady was wearing. But, even as he watched, the shine seemed to grow larger, until three feet of steel seemed to emerge from nowhere. It was a sword.

Instantly, Glenn bellowed at the top of his lungs in warning, but no one seemed to hear. Like a striking snake, the woman leaped forward, her blade whipping through the air. To Glenn's surprise, it came not at Nadia, but instead sped toward the heart of Crono. Glenn struggled to move fast enough, every fiber of his being striving to help his friend. Crono and Nadia had half turned around at the noise, and it was only his instincts that saved Crono. Instantly, he threw himself backward into a tight summersault, the blade just missing his head and cutting off a large lock of hair. But the blade's momentum kept it moving in a deadly arc, swinging sidewise.

With a swift slice, it had impaled Nadia in the left breast. She cried out for a moment, clutching the weapon, and then with a sigh she sank slowly to the ground.

Glenn hissed, a rage welling within him like he had not known since the death of Cyrus. He strove with all his might to move forward, but each step seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. Crono had just barely straightened when he saw his wife-to-be bleeding on the ground. He cried out, as if he himself had been stabbed, and fell to his knees to hug his dying love. Large tears trickled down his face, and he clutched her for a moment longer, caressing her pale face. Then he got unsteadily to his feat.

In an instant, his eyes locked on the assassin, and in their jade green depths burned a hatred that made Glenn's own seem like a child's temper tantrum. The assassin just stood there, transfixed by Crono's stare, or perhaps by the shock that she had failed. In terror, all the people nearby had ether fled or were right then trying to get as far away from there as possible. The soldiers struggled to get by them, but couldn't get close. And it was a good thing, too.

Crono's body seemed to glow as his feet left the ground. Small shafts of light shot from his frame, filling the air with a brilliant blue-white glow. Slowly, he gathered his full energy. Waves of power seamed to flow from his body, making the scene shimmer like a desert in a summer sun. His eyes seemed to go white for an instant, but then they came back into startling focus, and they were intent on the assassin. An enormous dome of energy formed above his head, arcing downward into a glittering half-sphere. It hung there a moment, pulsing with incredible energy. Abruptly, the woman came to her senses. Desperately, she tried to escape, flinging herself away from her target and struggling toward the barrier. She beat futilely at the wall of her glowing prison, which earned her a crackle of lightning that knocked her senseless, sending her flying backward again to land on her back.

Crono suddenly spread his hands into the air. The brilliant globe shined all the brighter, it's power reaching its peak. Then, with one last insane roar and an enormous boom, he released the energy. And quite literally blew everything within twenty feet into absolutely nothing. The very earth erupted in Crono's rage, causing a powerful earthquake that shook everything within a hundred miles. The castle rocked on its foundations, and seemed ready to fall apart. There was a blinding flash, and then Glenn's vision swirled, and the dream shifted.

He was looking at Crono—or at least he thought he was. The quiet young man Glenn knew was his friend looked different. He had streaks of silver in his red hair, and his face was more lined with worry and sorrow. He wore tight black leather gauntlets with bare fingers, and a dark blue cloak with a cowled hood. He wore loose black pants and a hard leather jerkin made up of a series of steel disks, with Moon Armor shinning faintly behind it. His hands were raised into the air in front of him, and with a deep look of concentration, he began to send dozens of speeding ice missiles at his opponent, each a deadly crystalline dagger. His adversary was hurling balls of fire just as fast, and Glenn turned to see who it was. He gasped. It was Lucca.

With her lavender hair flying out behind her from the powerful force that was coming from her hands, she managed to look defiant and confused at the same time. She seemed to be trying to find a way out of the situation, trying to talk with the attacking Crono. Yet even as she tried to speak, her rival doubled his barrage, forcing her to form a massive wall of flame in defense, turning the lethal blades into nothing but steam. But in doing this, she had to shift her power sharply to the right, leaving herself open to attack on her left side. In a moment of horror, she realized her mistake, and strove desperately to rectify it. But it was too late. Crono took full advantage of her blunder, sending a curving missile arcing around her flames, directly at her forehead. Glenn could tell by the look on her face that she knew she was about to die. Strangely, she seemed very calm, like she knew this was bound to happen one day. She looked at Crono with a saddened smile, tears glistening in her eyes.

And then, the dream shifted again. Glenn was standing in a wide open field of grain. On the far side, he could see three figures a little distance away in the late afternoon sun. Two of them were women, and the other was a man. One of the women was leaning over a man who was on the ground, and seemed to be weeping. Her long purple-black tresses hung in her face, and her light robe was spattered with the blood of the man she cried over.

The other woman was dressed in unrelenting black silk, with short black hair that hung down to her chin. She had an elegant and exquisite beauty, with high cheek bones and full lips, and bright green eyes that were slightly tilted. In her hands was a crystal blade, covered in blood. She smiled thinly, and without a single trace of pity or regret, she lobbed off the woman's head, sending it rolling to her feet. The bleeding man on the ground struggled desperately too rise, but she stabbed him again, and his strength failed him, and he fell dead.

Glenn leapt forward, his huge bounds covering the distance rapidly. The Masamune burned bright enough in his hands to outdo the sun. But, as quickly as he approached and as menacing as he looked, the woman seemed completely undisturbed. She glanced his way, revealing her cold contempt. She flashed him a mocking smile, and turned nonchalantly to pick something off the ground. Glenn stopped dead. It was the head of the woman she had just beheaded, and also clutched in her delicate grip was the head of a spiky-haired redhead he knew very well. Beyond thought, Glenn's mind convulsed at the sight before him, and he despaired for a moment. He had always believed Crono was almost invincible, that nothing could touch him. A thousand little memories of their time together flooded into his mind, and it seem impossible that there would be no more. The boy's power and confidence was incredible, and he had always seemed as unchanging as the Gods. Glenn would miss him.

But then, his mind returned to him. He saw the heartless murderer, standing there, her cold cruel eyes sneering at her attacker. He didn't care if he died. He didn't care if the world never remembered him, if he was just swept away in the sands of time like common house lint. He dearly loved his quiet friend, and he would see to it that he would be avenged. Glenn charged once more, brandishing the legendary Masamune, knowing full well he probably wouldn't survive. The woman merely smiled. Still unconcerned, she calmly ran the man on the ground though again, desecrating the already dead. Glenn could take no more. Raising his weapon, he roared "DIE, FIEND!"

His shout came to his real lips, and he awoke in absolute horror. He was sweating profusely, and his entire body shook with emotion. He nearly wept at the intensity of his dreams, and he was gasping for breath. He sat in shock for a few moments, reviewing it all over and over again, memorizing all that he had seen. Finally, he stood, and went to the side of the room to drink a large glass of water. At last calm, he went over and sat back down on the bed.

Glenn considered what to do. The dreams had been far too vivid, far too real for him to pass them off as simple nightmares. They were something far more, and he had to find out what. Urgently, he reached out his mind to the Masamune for answers, but the sentient blade remained silent. It always did on matters of fate, when things were too important to be altered. On those, it was not supposed to interfere. This worried Glenn all the more; it pointed to something coming soon, something that might even threaten the very fabric of existence, as once Lavos had. He had had this kind of dream then, too.

Glenn didn't know; he wasn't sure about any of it. He was only sure that he had to somehow go to the eleventh century to warn Crono. The problem was, he wasn't exactly sure what he was warning him of. He had to turn the course of events so that none of the things he had seen would even remotely come to pass. He decided that he would set off at once, hoping he could somehow find a way. He knew he would find a way: he had to.

Glenn put on his own set of Moon Armor, gathered his few belongings, and set off to find a way to get to the year 1002 A.D. Little did he know that someone else was thinking much the same thing.