Chapter IV
The Slaughter Begins and Children Weep
Jake Sighnwell lived with his mom and dad on the southern edge of Truce. It was just a little place, with creaky old floorboards, and a gnarled old table that they had had in their family for years. The curtains were old and bleached out, but they were crisp and clean, not a wrinkle to be seen. The floor was scrubbed and sparkling, only the tiniest bits of dust could be made out on it at all. Which left Jake wondering what his mom had told him to sweep it. He stared glumly out the window, to where the other kids ran playing tag, the broom forgotten in his hands.
It just wasn't fair! They were having so much fun, and he was stuck inside doing chores. His line of thought was broken when his mother cleared her throat behind him. He jumped slightly, and gazed up to give his mom a guilty look.
"Alright, young man," she began sternly, "You had better get to work right this minute, or you'll never have time to go out and play. Okay?"
"Okay," he sighed, and half-heartedly began to move broom along the floor. Nodding to herself, his mother walked briskly out of the room, her mind already on other things.
"Pssst!" someone said behind him. He glanced around to see his father, who was looking furtively in the direction his mother had gone. After he was sure she was out of hearing range, he motioned for his son to come to him. His bright blue eyes glowed with mischief, and had that sort of half-smirk on his face that meant something fun was going to happen.
"Don't worry about it, kid," his dad grinned at him, taking the broom. "I'll just finish this while you go out for a bit."
Jake grinned back. He knew he could always count on his dad to give him a break just when he needed it. He turned to go before his mother returned, his father close behind him . They even made it to the door before they heard this loud tapping noise behind them. Father and son turned in dismay to wife and mother. With her arms folded and her foot still tapping, there was only one thing they could think to say.
"Uh oh,"
She glared down at the two of them, she shaking her head. She first began berate his father, her finger wagging in the air as he bore it long-sufferingly. The heated look she was giving meant they would discuss this more in privet. The look turned to surprise when she saw a strange figure looming in the doorway. Father and son turned to look, and Jake involuntarily took a step back.
The man was dressed in thick, oiled leather, and his long black hair was a scraggily mess. He grinned at them, a terrible, toothy grin that was no more than a bearing of teeth. His eyes stared coldly under thick brows, and he had his hand on the hilt of a sword.
Jake's father stepped forward, seeming almost invincible to Jake. He was easily head and shoulders taller than the man, but his eyes were wary. His fingers twitched as if he wish he had a weapon in them. He look right in their visitors eyes, his face hard and impassive.
"What can I do for you, sir?" he asked in a neutral tone, his eyes never leaving the man in leather. The man laughed, a low, cruel laugh that never touched his eyes.
"Why, put up a good fight!" he roared, and his sword seemed to leap out of its sheath. Jake's dad lunged forward and caught the intruder's wrists, trying to twist the blade out of his hands. The man grinned all the more, and with unnatural ease, threw back Jake's father as if he were no more that a rag doll. With the look of a rabid wolf closing in on it's kill, the man lunged forward, his weapon ready.
Still choking for air, Jake's dad desperately tried to stand. He looked up, and saw the blade rushing toward him, and he knew that there was no way out. Jake could only look on, frozen in terror, as time seemed to slow down. The blade crept nearer, it's grim advance lasting an eternity. It was within feet of his father. Inches. Jake's father gave a startled gasp as blade ran through his body, and the life seemed to drain out of his eyes. Jake could hear her mother scream, and his dad slowly slid off the bloodied sword.
He held his head up for a moment, and looked into the eyes of his wife and child. His life flashed before his eyes, and in every bit of it he had joy with his family, all the ones he loved. He smiled, a smile of goodbye, and his head sank back onto the hard floor. Blood ran through his shirt like a flood, making a puddle around him on the floor.
Without bothering to turn around, the man in leather drew a dagger and hurled it through the air. It moved so fast that Jake's eyes could not follow it, but he felt the wind of it as it passed by his face. He turned, desperately trying to see where it went. His mother was right behind him. With a choked cry, she clutched her throat, and fell backward without another sound.
Jake fell to his knees, his face frozen in shock. The man strode slowly up behind him, his shadow laying across the form of Jake's dead mother. He saw the weapon raised for the final blow, the murderer ready to finish his job.
"Wait," came a cool voice, and Jake looked up at the sound. In the back of his mind, he found it strange that the man had stopped, but now his eyes were all on the woman looking in the window. He glossy black hair and perfect complexion were outlined by the shadows of the window frame, and her jade green eyes glowed like a cat's.
"Leave the boy," she said in her calm, musical voice. The man did not give so much as a grunt of protest, and marched right out the door with his long hair swaying behind him. The woman glanced at him, but then her gaze returned to Jake. Her eyes never leaving his, she smiled. Tears began rolling down Jake's cheeks, and he began to wail. The woman laughed, and turned away without another glance back.
Jake could not stop crying. No! thought, beating the ground with his fists. It can't be! It's just a dream! Yes! It's just a dream, and I have got to wake up. He began hitting his head, willing himself to wake up. He kept hitting until his forehead began to bleed dripping down the back of his hand. No! This has to be a dream. IT MUST BE!
"NOOOO!" he wailed, and his cry echoed on and on into the distance. Children, mothers, fathers, and siblings all cried in the village of Truce. Their weeping pleas rang in the air, praying to what ever Gods there were in to the universe to have mercy. In all the weeping and wailing, and horror stricken moaning, there was on sound that differed from them all. It was a cold, lifeless sound, a sound that lacked anything like a soul. The sound of a woman's laugh.
***
Ah, blood. The fluid of life, the essence of humanity, and the sign of death. It's handy how its all wrapped into one neat little ball, ready to be taken and utilized. How beautiful the poetry, the color, the feel of blood. Yes, she would not let her agragre and other minions have all the fun. She herself had taken at least half of the exactly 56 deaths (she always kept track) that had taken place. The sweet flowing blood, she had seen every drop of it as it was spilt. There was no rhyme or reason to it, she simply loved it. Mercilessly taking the lives of others always made her feel immortal, that nothing could touch her. It made her feel like she could, herself, escape death forever.
Despite her love of murder and torture, something her master had taught her well, she decided they had been demoralized enough. After all, she had a job to do, and pleasures had to wait. She needed people to go to the castle to report the deaths, and she had done all this in just an evening and a night. And leaving the children orphans made the men of this kingdom so weepy, they would be thirsty for vengeance in battle. Now, she just had to have death in the castle. A pity, but she herself could not go (she stood out too much) so she must send someone else.
She obviously could not send the agragre. A bull in a china shop only begins to describe how that would go. So, she would just use one of her discreet assassins. Ah, yes. Sahra would do, she'd fit in perfectly as a general castle aid. Plus, she was good enough to slay herself immediately should she fail. Yes, that would be perfect.
She had to kill someone important; someone well known enough that people would think they could get anybody if they could get him or her. Hmm… who should it be? Couldn't be the princess or king, the nation would be in an uproar to find her then. So who? Ah… she had it! The Chancellor. He would be dead by evening tomorrow, a message on the wall written in blood. Yes, it fit so perfectly, she could not wait to see the effect.
But that's not all she wanted. She had felt of late that her man might have abilities other than advertised. After all, even if he was the world's best at weapon combat, at least one or two of her agragre would have returned. Perhaps he had learned new magic? Or maybe he had friends? To find out, she decided to send fully half her army after him, including the minoans, who aren't effected by magic, and her own batch of shadows, who were impossible to attack physically. Yes, in her years of this profession, she had build quite an army. Now, she finally had the chance to use it. And hiding them in Fiona's Forest provided perfect cover for them. She thanked her old lady for giving her that history book on the Middle Ages. Magus had truly been a genius. She guessed he just didn't have the guts to pull through in the end.
"You!" she said to a person nearby , a demi-human slave she had brought from the islands. "Fetch me Sahra Lanowen! And then send your master to get the army mustered. I want half the troops marching across Zenen Bridge by mid-morning tomorrow!"
The slave bowed deeply, then jumped to her feet and sprinted at top speed on her errand. Yes, things were going nicely indeed.
A stranger. What is a stranger? Is it a man who is unusual, someone who's different? Or perhaps just a man who is unknown. He didn't know. To him, this land was as familiar as if he had walked it's wandering paths but yesterday, and it seemed that he was no stranger to it. But was he a stranger here now, after so many years? Perhaps he was; it mattered little. He only knew one thing. That he was being hunted again.
He thought he had done an excellent job eluding them, but after a few years, they always found him, and he always got away. This time was different. This time he was home, for the first time in years he didn't care to count. And this time, they found him in a matter of weeks. They must have hired the highest quality, then. Perhaps even the Black Heart herself. Not too long ago, the thought that one of the deadliest women in history was paid to kill him would have worried him. But not now-now he didn't care. He was tired of running; tired of hiding. He had returned home after so long, and now they wished to flush him out again. Well, it wouldn't happen like that this time. He refused to be hounded any more. This is were he would make his stand, in the land of his birth. This is where he would die.
But before he left to go to the great beyond, he had only one wish. He wanted to see his family one last time, even if only from a distance. Was his wife still well? How tall did his son grow? He clenched his black gauntlet-covered fists, stirring his dark blue cloak. Oh, how he wished he had been there for his first steps, to see him grow to manhood with pride and honor. But he had been denied that privilege; denied it because he saw what they were doing. The horrible slaughter that was taking place, just for their selfish gain. And, until recently, it had stopped; he had made sure of that. But somehow, they had found out it was him that had stopped them, and had been after him ever since. Now he would repay them as best he could. No more running. Not from anything.
And so he walked onward down the path, one he did not recall being there as a youth. He tightened his black bandana, securing the knot in place, and making sure his half-moon axe was ready. He had expected to be attacked several times by now, but for some reason they kept missing him. It was almost as if there were some impersonator running around drawing the fire. And soon he came to a lonely signpost, with two markers on it, set right before the great Zenen Bridge. The one on the left said "To Guardia Castle" and the other "To Truce Village, Leene Square" He veered off on the right side, hoping what he sought was still there. Hoping she would forgive him, when he could not forgive himself. Hoping, that for one brief moment, he could be Chronos again.
***
"Crono!"
Crono, fast asleep only seconds before, leaped high into the air. "Yaaahhh!" he almost shrieked, and managed to draw his sword before he fell off the bed and hit the floor.
He looked up tensely, and saw Nadia standing over him, desperately trying to keep from laughing. Despite all her efforts, she could not help but at least giggle, and Crono groaned loudly.
"Alright," he said "I'm calling a conference between you, Mom and me. No more waking me up like that. It makes me paranoid,"
"I'll say," Lucca laughed, a short distance behind Nadia.
"No kidding. Jeez, you're tense, Crono. You've got to loosen up," Nadia continued relentlessly. She smiled sweetly at him, to which he stuck out his tongue.
"Anyway," Lucca said, clearing her throat. "It's time to go, Crono. Everyone else is ready. All you'll have time for is to eat, grab your stuff and go." They sure looked ready, too. Both were dressed in their own armor, extremely flashy, light stuff made out of Rainbow shell, and Lucca had her odd looking helmet on with the little microphone and her extra-wear glasses. Nadia had her crossbow back (Crono briefly wondered how she had convinced her father to let her have it) which he was sure she liked very much.
He sighed, squeezed his boots back on ("Only thing you bothered to take off," Nadia grumbled, looking askance at his slightly rumpled clothes) and he followed them up the stairs and out into the hall. They went down the stony gray hallway and eventually descended another flight of stairs into the kitchen. Crono remembered what it was like to sleep in normal armor (woke up half-dead from bruises) and was glad of the unmatched quality of Moon Armor. The others were waiting there, and all of them looked ready. Glenn seemed like a person that would continually look at his watch (only he didn't have one) and Magus had separated himself off into a corner as usual. The cook had already prepared a meal for him, and he ate quickly. That is to say, he inhaled his food and nearly choked, and made even Magus a little sick. But nevertheless, he got the satisfied feeling of being full like he wanted, and they were soon ready to go.
They were about to leave when King Guardia XXXIII came striding out of the hall to greet them. The king's stance and pace were careful and calm (he was going to say something to Nadia it seemed) but the best possible way to describe the 33rd king of Guardia was… well, kingly. He had a thick, wise mustache with silver tips, and an appearance of vast experience in his eyes. But what showed through most at the moment were deep worry lines that seemed etched into his skull. He paused for a moment to gaze at his daughter, seeing in her a doppelganger of her mother.
"Please, Nadia, be careful. I know you can take care of yourself, but… oh, you better be good to her, Crono!"
Nadia smiled fondly at her father, and gave him a hug. "Thanks, daddy. I'll see you in a bit." He nodded somewhat hesitantly, and released her. With that, Nadia stepped away and gave a brisk nod to Lucca. The rest did the same, albeit Magus a bit impatiently, and she pulled out her little metal briefcase. She had handed them their little wands earlier, which everyone got out. With a quick flip of a switch, everyone in the group faded from view except Crono. There was a little shuffling (suddenly being able to see through yourself has that effect) and they began to walk out the door.
"I'll go first," Crono said. "Then Glenn, then Magus, then Nadia, and Lucca will bring up the rear. And boy, do I feel like I am talking to myself…"
So, with some very careful stepping and good communication skills, the got out of the castle and across the drawbridge, down the bluff on which the castle rested, and through the cleared field. The king watched them go (or rather watched Crono go) with worry lines deepening all the more. And as the day went on, they were going to get a lot worse.
Guardia sighed as his future son-in-law faded from view into the forest below, and glumly returned to the castle. Things had not been going well of late. His official messenger had not returned, and there was no word of him. In fact, there seemed to be little news throughout the kingdom. Even the nearby Truce seemed strangely quiet. That troubled him. Something was brewing in the wind; he knew it. And he was going to find out what soon.
"Go send for the Chancellor," he said to a nearby guard. "I would like his advice in my hearings today." This was one of the days he designated to hear the peoples problems and try to solve them, and having a second opinion was always nice. And so he returned to the great hall and sat on his lone throne, and remembered when it had been dual thrones to hear the voice of the people with. He missed those days.
And it seemed that he sat only for a moment when a man was hurried into the throne room. His clothing was of a fine cut, pointing him out to be a well-to- do merchant, but they were wrinkled and torn, and his hair was dirty and unkempt. His face was haggard and hollow looking, and his eyes were wild with terror. He had barely entered the throne room when he flung himself to the floor, hoping his supplication would lend support. But Guardia was not that kind of king.
"Rise, good merchant. I am no emperor, and in Guardia such respect should be given to no one. Pray, tell me what's wrong." Even though the words were a request, the tone was all of command.
"Your Majesty!" the disheveled man gasped. "I am Roderick of Porre, a merchant at the local stores. I was selling some supplies to some strangers when all of the sudden, they drew their swords and killed everyone but me! I had fainted at the sight of all that blood, and so they must have thought me dead. They seemed normal enough-a little odd, perhaps, but…" words seemed to fail him for a moment, and he seemed to being trying to comprehend it all. "Some of them transformed into horrible monsters! Not at all like any of the Mystics. Seventeen they killed! For no reason at all! And the blood was strewn everywhere! They seemed to love it."
The king rose to his feet. Murder? In his kingdom! Oh, how he would make the offenders pay. If it took him his last breath, he would do it. He turned to one of his soldiers.
"Captain!" he snapped, and the man stood to brisk attention. Even as the king was about to issue his orders, more men came in. Each seemed as desperately hopeful as the merchant, and had similar stories. The king, enraged by every story, immediately summoned the soldiers. He sent out over 10,000 infantry to the east and southern villages, and 3,500 cavalry to patrol the Zenen Bridge, to insure that his obviously widespread threat was stamped out immediately. The messengers continued to come throughout the day. From Porre, Truce, Chorus, and even Medina. A panicky terror was spreading across his kingdom. Soon reports came in of riots in the streets. There had been a lot of random Mystic killings, from people who thought that it might be their doing. Everyone kept there swords ready. He began to feel almost as if someone had begun a full-scale war against him. There had not been a war in Guardia for almost 400 years now, but if they thought they could just waltz into his kingdom and murder men, women and children… Then it was war they would get!
"Where is the Chancellor!? The king demanded. "He should have been here long ago. Go find him!" A soldier nearby saluted smartly (one of the paltry 750 left guarding the castle) and hurried up the stairs to the Chancellor's chambers. A few moments later, there was a startled yell, and the soldier came running back to the king.
"The Chancellor!" he shouted in a panic. "He's--he's dead! And the guard sent to find him with him!" The soldier's surrounding stirred in alarm.
"A murder, right here in the castle?" one muttered.
"Then no one is safe!" said another in alarm.
"Protect the king!"
Others took up the last, and crowded around their sovereign protectively, and the noise of it was such that the king had to shout at the top of his lungs to be heard.
"I said SILENCE!!" he roared, and the men became so instantly. He stared out at them for a moment, letting his anger sink in.
"You are all FOOLS! You call yourself members of the Royal Guard! We will NOT be goaded into a panic, we will NOT give up now. Nearly the entire army had been sent forth to defend your homes and families, and those men are putting their lives on the line for all of us. And you sit here and whine and squeal with fright like a bunch of school children. We will not be intimidated, not by the gates of Hell itself. Your orders are clear. Go to your posts. This castle may be under attack at any time. I said GO!"
All the men became there stiffest, and saluted him in silence, ashamed of the reprimand of their king. At his last command, they all rushed to their posts, on the battlements and patrolling the halls, and only about twenty men were left with the king. Guardia sank down on his throne, his eyes distant. From one eye dropped a single tear. Henry had been a good friend, someone who had always supported the king in his decisions, and had enough courage to tell him when he was wrong. Now he was gone. He tightened his fist, and glared into the expanse above him. Who ever you are, he thought. You shall pay dearly for what you have done.
Guardia knew there was no way to get into the castle unnoticed without magic. The fortress had been improved upon for the last 1000 years or so in it's defense, and after several incidents with Nadia, had been made even more secure. So there was only one group of people equipped to handle this new threat. It looked as if the fate of Guardia rested in the hands of Crono again. Suddenly, he wondered how his son-in-law was faring. And then he thoughts turned to Nadia. His daughter out in that war zone, where a stray arrow could take away from him that which held most precious in life. He cursed himself for ever letting her go. He could only hope she was faring well. Actually, he thought, glancing at his now small seeming soldiers, she's probably in better care than I am!
He only hoped all was going well.
***
Crono felt very odd indeed. It was like that feeling of being watched when you know no one is there, only he did know people were there. He couldn't help but think they were jeering at him or making fun of him or something. If it were anyone but these guys, he'd probably give himself a migraine trying to hear everything at once to try to find them. But they were fairly quiet-after all, it doesn't help to have them invisible if someone could hear a large party tromping up from a mile away. But still, it was definitely not something he enjoyed. Not to mention the fact that he was bait. He hated being bait. It meant you were target number one.
Of course, they realized the flaw in their plan almost immediately. If, say, they were attacked suddenly (the enemy attacks invariably on two occasions: 1. When you're ready for them. 2. When you're not ready for them) they would have to become visible really soon. The reason was, to organize any battle, you had to have good communication; mostly hand signals and trumpets. But, since none of them seemed to have brought trumpets, if they were all invisible, they would have to try to shout over the din of battle to talk to each other. Which usually meant that the enemy would know exactly what you're about to do and stomp you before you can do it. Not to mention they might accidentally blow each other up with one ill-placed magic attack.
Lucca, very hesitantly, had admitted that she had not considered the possibility, but had nevertheless come up with a solution. When it came time to fight, and the opposition was charging, they would become visible again and improvise from there. Which, Crono realized glumly, was his job. He had to be the one to think fast on his feet and adjust. Even though Glenn had some experience that way, Crono would be in charge, and so he would not have time for a counsel to put their heads together while some monstrous beast was charging down on them. He just hoped that Lucca's Shifter gizmo worked like it was suppose to.
They had left the castle forest about an hour ago, and had decided to head south. The openness of the green fields provided ample early view of oncoming enemies, but not much cover. The storm advertised the day before had rumbled and shaken the sky a bit, but now there seemed to be a sort of stillness to the air. There was little or no wind, and the few trees were stock-still in the mid-afternoon sun. The slightly sodden landscape seemed to try to lull the senses, and an eerie quiet surrounded them like a cloak. There was not a soul in sight.
"Like the calm before the storm…" Crono heard Lucca mutter, and he gritted his teeth. He hated old clinches, too. In his experience, they told him that he was not being paranoid, and something was going to happen. The only one worse was "Look on the bright side. It can't get any worse." Last time someone had said that, they had ended up as the newest prisoners of the Queen of Zeal, where they would have stayed had Schala not freed them. But he just knew something would happen soon. And if it didn't, he'd probably go nuts from all the waiting.
He made a mental list of things he hated. Waiting, being bait, waking up in the morning, and old clinches. He was absolutely sure the list would grow before the day was done.
Then, they ascended the only hill in the region, passed upward through the wide trail and picked their way off to the side as well. (At least that's what Crono thought. He just could be hearing things) However, as they reached the top of the hill and looked down, it took a moment of the scene to sink into Crono's brain. Out in front of him were hundreds of fully-armed assorted humans and monsters, all decked out in varying degrees of chain mail. The first wave was already charging at him, and the second was organizing.
"Um… Lucca." Crono said tightly "Now would be a good time,"
"I know!" She growled. "I'm working on it!"
"Well, work faster!" Nadia hissed!
"Come on, work you!" she spat between clenched teeth. There was the sound of her fist banging on the metal surface, but it was too late. The tide was upon them. They had to fight now.
Crono drew his sword, and met the first ranks, the extending weapons they carried very noticeable. He spun and dodged, and slashed through the first two, parried easily, and took another one down. He could hear the sound of confusion from the enemy growing as they were being steadily slashed and bombarded with fire and ice from the sides. Several of the agragre were abruptly sliced in half in evidence of the devastating effects of the Masamune. Large fields of shadow enveloped areas in the inner ranks, and whole platoons disappeared into the void.
But, being unable to see each other, they found it very hard to avoid hitting each other. This was very evident when a wall of flame came roaring Nadia's way, which she barely deflected in time with a wall of ice. From the startled shout off to the right, Crono could tell Glenn was dragged slightly by one of the black holes erupting in the ranks, and the earth shook with the force of the power being sent against it. And then the enemies' wizards and mages started throwing Magic of their own, the agragre made another charge, and the humans surged forward. And then things got really confusing.
***
Lucca couldn't believe this was happening. The blasted thing had chosen that precise moment to decide to take a vacation. She knew she had made all the calculations right, and to this point the thing had worked perfectly. But she had precious little time to think about it now, for another hoard of wildly-swinging monsters was running in her direction. They seemed to have caught on to the invisibility trick, and were sending around little hack-n'-slash parties to try to eliminate the threat. She concentrated for a moment, and muttered a few words under her breath.
Instantly, a pillar of fire appeared behind the now scared-spitless agragre--exactly opposite to where Lucca was. They hacked and slashed futilely at the air for a few moments before the searing flame reached them and they were burnt to a crisp. Lucca panted slightly, and wiped the sweat from her forehead. Magic was not an easy thing to do, even on the best of days. She considered taking her elixir, but decided she might have more need of it later. Things had a way of popping up like that.
She looked up tiredly, trying to find the others, but with all the magic of every kind (if very few Shadow) flying through the air and striking friend as often as foe… She knew that until just about every one of these creatures were decimated, she wouldn't see anyone who wouldn't try to kill her on sight-sort of. She glanced ahead of her, and was shocked to see a group of three agragre charging right at her. With a start, she realized she was visible again, but it was too late to react. The first spear shoved hard into her chest, bowling her over and knocking the wind out of her. The only reason she hadn't been impaled is that the spear's magic had been deflected by her armor, and all she would get because of it was a nasty bruise.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she rolled backward away from the now very close tangle of long swords and spears. Growling, she pulled out her Wondershot, and blasted the first monster in line to dust and blew in half his little friends behind him. She fired off six more shots in various directions where large bundles of creatures and men were, and then reholstered her gun to let it recharge. She started sending out a heat wave of magic in a fiery shield around herself, knowing she was now a sitting duck. It was no sooner up than she was pounded by a massive bolt of lightning, coming from her left. Then an ice crystal attempted to slice through it, coming from behind her, but was instantly vaporized. Then different magics began poring from all directions. There sure were a lot of them, but it was obvious they didn't have very strong magic. They were, however, very annoying, and made it so Lucca was unable to move or cast any more spells. She had to concentrate almost everything she had on the shield. She was sure that even a wimpy wizard would be pretty tough if there were several hundred of them. But the bastards would pay in about ten seconds when her gun was fully recharged.
***
Oh, Crono! Where was he? He couldn't be that far! But, sparing a glance over the battlefield, Nadia realized he might as well be on the other side of the moon for all she could get to him. She sent another blizzard of ice spears into the mass, and barely had time to deflect the coming ball of fire hurled at her from a nearby mage. She fired her crossbow, and with a sharp crack of electricity, it shattered the magician's shield and landed square between his eyes. She rapidly reloaded and fired her weapon about twenty more times before sending out another barrage. If only Crono was beside her. All seemed so simple and easy with him around. How she missed him.
She knew she had to find him. She knew it. She couldn't bear to lose him again, not like last time. He had given his life to save them all, and she was going to make sure that if that happened, it would be her instead of him. She never wanted to live with that sadness again. Never!
She sighed, and readied herself for another oncoming patrol. This was going to be a long day.
***
A wave of darkness swept the hoard, and the great Magus easily sliced large swathes out of the enemy host with his terrible black scythe. Waves of power seemed to wash from him, and he swiftly struck down the little pigmy wizards that attempted to bar his path with waves of fire, bolts of lightning and shards of ice. They were all such pitiful fools. They hadn't stood a chance from the very beginning, and had the companions become visible like they were suppose to (on time, that is) the entire army would likely have been wiped out already. His blood boiling with silent anger, he smote another reckless imbecile down as easily as breathing.
Then, the waves of the enemy parted. On the forefront stood a lone figure cloaked in what seemed to be living shadow. In its grip was a long black broadsword, which seemed to pulsate with dark energy. The hood of the cloak was ripped back to reveal a face. It was pale, pointy eared and had blue hair. It was Magus's face. He laughed a mad laugh and razed his sword into the air, and with a great downward arc, sent a wave of darkness spinning in Magus's direction. But Magus was not impressed by cheap parlor tricks and gimmicks, whether caused by real magic or not.
With swift precision, he thrust his scythe into the air, from which erupted his own wave of darkness, which collided with the oncoming one. To Magus's slight surprise, they stayed where they were. So, this magician was more formidable that he had thought. Carefully, he gathered a pulse of energy into his hand. The energy grew until it was a solid ball of light, getting larger every second. And then, with a great roar, Magus brought the hand foreword, and released the energy all at once. A great pillar of light shot from his fingertips, which crashed into the wall and shattered it with massive force. Then the energy erupted again in a upward churning geyser, sending men and monsters flying into the air.
And yet, when the dust cleared and the airborne fell, the man in the cloak was still standing there, but he was no longer laughing. Then Magus did laugh. It has been a long time since he had had a formidable opponent. He was going to enjoy this.
***
He had no idea how they had found him. But they had. And they had come in force. The only thing he didn't understand was, why were they fighting themselves? From the minoans he had seen, he knew for sure that Black Heart herself had been sent after him. But this didn't seem like her type of operation at all. She made any beg for death who do not obey her, and she certainly would not have simply hired a rag-tag group of half-baked mercenaries to come after him. So what was going on?
Of course, being in the middle of the battle, he had little time for such pondering, and he was making ready use of his half-moon axe on the confused and divided hoard. He spotted wizards on occasion, and he immediately dispatched them with waves of razor-sharp projectiles. None of them had very great abilities. So long as he didn't encounter them in a large group, he would fair well enough. The battle would go his way easily if this continued. They didn't stand a chance. But then, he saw her.
She was standing in the middle of a group of weak wizards, and she easily decimated them one-by-one with powerful waves of fire. A pulsating shield of heat waves surrounded her, and her lavender hair peaked slightly under her oddly shaped helmet. She had thick glasses, and wielded what looked like a small tube with a handle, from which brilliant balls of energy erupted. He could not believe the mark of magic on her. She was probably as powerful as he was, but Chronos had heard that one can never see one's own mark clearly. Whoever she was, he had to take her out now, while she was tired and preoccupied, or he might not live to see another day.
With a mighty surge, he gathered his energy, bringing every bit of muster he had to bear for this offensive. But just as he was about to start the barrage, she spotted him. Her eyes widened in surprise for a moment, almost as if she recognized him. Then, he released his energy.
Everyone around her was frozen and shattered. But she responded with a massive wall of flame, the likes of which Chronos had never seen, and it met his storm head on. A look like she just realized something passed over her face, and then she had a grim and determined look to her. Her efforts redoubled, and so did his, and the sound of steam rising made a roaring hiss that was like a waterfall. He decided to try an old technique to test her experience, as he now saw her power. With startling abruptness, he shifted his line of attack to one side in force, hoping she would send all her defense there, so he could clear a single ice crystal around her massive barrier.
But it seemed she anticipated the move exactly, adjusted just enough to deflect his power, and instead sent flames at him. He quickly countered with a triangle-shaped ice block which evenly divided the flame to either side of him, protecting him from harm for a moment. But she was fast figuring out his techniques. Time for another plan. Now he sent out ice missiles seemingly wildly, many of them missing her completely. He thought for a moment that she would be distracted by them-an amateur's mistake-but as he expected, she ignored them and focused on him. She must have been doing this for a while. She sent a claw of fire that tore through the earth towards him, and he had to lunge desperately to the side to avoid it. But it didn't matter; his ruse had worked. She was dead.
The ice crystals he had hurled her way had formed one massive iceberg behind her, and she saw it too late. Like a giant heavenly spear, it raced toward her, and Chronos almost sighed with relief. It was over; he had beaten her. Her face frozen in horror, the moment seemed to stretch on in slow motion, and suddenly, oddly, Chronos could hear the sound of the breeze in the background. But then there was a glint in the distance behind. He barely took notice of it, so concentrated on the task at hand. It took a lot of immense concentration to do what he was doing, and he didn't let little flashes of light distract him. In this case, a definite mistake.
Then, there was a figure standing in-between the ice and the girl. Chronos could only see him from the back, but he could tell he was short and stocky, with a green overcoat and black cloak. In his green (green?) hands was a sword that shone so brightly it hurt to look at, and it sparkled with white fire. Then, with a great leap and an overhand slash, there was a flash of light, and an explosion. When his vision had cleared, Chronos gaped in disbelieve at what had been done. The man had chopped the entire iceberg cleanly in two, and either side fell forward with a resounding crash, breaking into little pieces. The frog-like creature turned and raised the blade again in salute, and it sang in the afternoon light as he moved it.
With a shock, Chronos realized that it could only be the legendary Masamune. But it wasn't possible! The great Glenn of Guardia, just like in all the tales. He had the mark of magic as well, but not as strong as the girl. But he couldn't be real. It wasn't possible! He was just a children's story; an amusement for the young. The young friend of the heroic Knight Captain Cyrus was just something to make the sound of the death of the warrior sound less sad, something to make you think that the good will always win in the end. And yet, that children's story was running full-force at him right now, and if he didn't act, he was going to be half the man he used to be.
He got his axe out just in time, blocking the great sweeping blow of the mythic blade. His half-mooned weapon was of the finest make, but it was nothing compared to the Masamune. The force of the blow shattered the axe blade easily, and sent Chronos flying backward. The frog-man wielding the blade was incredibly strong, and it took some effort for Chronos to roll back to his feet again. He shot a solid wall of ice even before he had fully regained his feet, but Glenn just took a great sweep with the sword and melted it to nothing. The effort of all this magic was getting to Chronos; he couldn't hold out much longer.
He set up another ice shield around himself, and then the girl pulled out her tube-shaped weapon. With exact accuracy, she fired, and a basketball-sized ball of light shattered his protection like cheap tin foil. And then, the frog was on him again, and he desperately tried to deflect with the now ice-covered axe handle. He was barely successful, but enough to buy him some time. Using the sheer force of the magic flowing from him, he hurled himself backward about thirty feet, just out of the range of his green assailant.
Or so he thought. The girl had stepped forward, and was now up next to Glenn, who sheathed the Masamune for a moment. Then, with the precision of having done it many times before, they concentrated their magic, flung their hands forward to sent a stream of hot steam shooting his way. Once again, it easily ate through his defenses, and sent him hurtling backward. This time, he didn't land so well. He felt several of his ribs break at the impact with the rocky soil, and his left arm wasn't working properly. He struggled to feet again, grunting at the fierce pain lancing up his sides. He stared blankly as the duo approached, certain he was going to die. But, if he was going to die, he was going to take them with him.
With a superhuman effort, he chanted slowly, gathering his magic. He prepared his ultimate weapon, a storm of ice that would engulf miles of the area in an awesome blizzard, killing just about everything-including himself-that tried to stand against it. His preparations complete, his looked up at his opponents. To his astonishment, they weren't even looking at him; instead, they stared at something behind them in the distance. Were they so confident they thought him already dead? Then they would learn how grave a mistake they had made. But, he couldn't resist. He had to look over them to see what the heck they were staring at. It's kind of idiotic to ignore a man who could still kill you, and he didn't think they were morons, so it must be something pretty darn interesting.
At first, he couldn't make out the features of the man walking toward them. The mark on him was so bright, it seemed that he glowed with power. It was so bright that all he could see was the outline of the person. Chronos was briefly thankful he hadn't had this man as an opponent. Then, as he got used to the light, the man's features started to become visible. He wore a rumpled looking sky-blue shirt and trousers, with a curious orange scarf tied around his neck. In one hand he held a magnificent rainbow-colored sword. Then Chronos looked up higher, and saw bright green eyes below a white bandana, and wild red hair that tossed in the slight breeze. All he could do was gape, and the magic he was going to use faded away like morning mist. He was staring into the face of his only son, who he saw for the briefest time so many years ago.
***
Crono couldn't believe it. It was like looking into a mirror, and seeing yourself in twenty years. He was tired and disheveled looking, and his red hair was tinted slightly with gray, but the resemblance to his reflection was still astonishing. The four of them stood in silence a moment. It was the man who had been missing for so many years who broke the silence, lurching and stumbling closer to Crono. Glenn's hand flew to the hilt of his sword, but it just stayed there, unsheathed. Chronos now stood before Crono, his face so mixed with conflicting emotions it seemed he would stand where he was for eternity.
"C…Crono?" he said unsteadily. "Can it be you?" He laughed suddenly, after which he grimaced in pain. "I thought I'd never get the chance to see you grow to be a man,"
Glenn cleared his throat. "Me thinks we have had a misunderstanding," he said sagely.
"No kidding," Lucca growled, and looked at Chronos with evident suspicion. "This…person… tried to kill me on sight. All I was doing was defending myself from all the little wizards, and he attacked me,"
Chronos bowed his head. "Forgive me. I… I thought you might have been the enemy, and so… I'm really sorry." He looked very abashed, and shifted his feet self-consciously, not at all like someone his age should when apologizing for a mistake. He looked more like a little boy who was asked to say sorry. So, Crono isn't the first like that. Lucca thought glumly. I wonder if they ever grow up. Crono himself still hadn't said a word. He just stared at his father, unsure as to what to do.
"So," Crono began. "Uh…just what exactly are you doing here?" Chronos looked back at his son with a slightly hurt expression.
"Do you always start conversations like that? After all, I am you father, even if you've never seen me before."
"And why is that?"
Chronos looked at him uncertainly for a moment. Then he nodded. "You have a right to know. A right to know why I was never there for you." He stared down at his feet, and wondered just how to explain it. Would he believe it? Would he accept it as an excuse for abandoning him and his mother? Then he looked up abruptly to the south, and cocked his head and listened intently. He could have sworn he had heard the sound of marching feet. The others seemed to have noticed it as well, and began looking around in alarm. Then, there was a lot of shouting as several thousand agragre charged over the hill, along with a lot of shadow-shaped figures and strange-looking men in horse-hide armor. All sorts of wizards were everywhere in the mixed crowd, and it looked like this detachment had brought a few house-sized catapults with them.
"Ah, crap," Crono and Lucca said in unison.
Chronos looked genuinely frightened. "Ah… tell you what." He said, glancing behind him. "I'll tell you all about it later. Right now, we've got something to do."
"Like what?!" Crono replied wildly.
"Like RUN!"
"Oh, shut up, old man."
"Hey!"
Crono shook his head. "What must be done, must be done." he said simply, but the determination was clear in his voice.
So, they gritted their teeth, took a swig of elixir, and got down to business. The battle was long and grueling. Each and every wizard had to be eliminated first, so that they could go somewhere without being constantly bombarded by various magical elements. Then came the soldiers. No matter how many of their fellows fell, the fools just kept coming, determined to kill or be killed to the last man. And then, some of them had to be killed with magic, because physical attacks just passed right through them. Others still had to be stabbed or hacked apart before they would give up the ghost. All in all, things were not going well.
Then, just as things began to look their bleakest, they heard a single trumpet call in the distance. It was joined promptly by others, until the sound of it was a mighty challenge ringing out into the ranks of the attacking army. Chronos, Crono, and Lucca looked around in confusion, but Glenn threw his head back and laughed.
"By the Nine Worthies, here cometh the Guardian army!" he roared. Even as he spoke, huge ranks of cavalry swept down the hill, javelins and sabers flashing in the last rays of sunset. With the wizards and most of the Shadows destroyed, the tide of battle had turned in their favor, and before dusk settled on the grassy plain, the last of the enemy had been slain to a man. The foreign army was destroyed.
***
Crono stared into the campfire, exhausted from the days exertions, and his throbbing headache didn't help matters much. It was hard to concentrate when you felt like someone was beating him over the head with a tree trunk. But as tired and befuddled as he was, on question still burned in his mind. Why?
"All right," he almost snapped at Chronos. "It's later. Tell me now."
"All right, all right!" Chronos replied defensively. "I'll tell you. Keep your shirt on, boy."
Boy? Crono thought. I'll show him boy!
Chronos paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he opened his mouth as if to speak. Just then, a loud female voice reached them.
"Crono!" Nadia called, and somehow managed to run across the small camp and bowl her fiancé over in a tight hug before anyone could move.
"Oh! I'm so glad you're alright! I thought I might not see you ever again! What happened?" Crono tried to speak but Nadia just kept plowing on.
"Are you hurt?"
"No, I--"
"And who's he? Is that your father?"
"Um-well--"
"Crono! Answer me!"
Crono bowed his head in defeat, and Chronos started to laugh, and clutched his sides in pain again. Nadia looked at him in surprise. "Are you all right?" she asked.
"Nothing you could help with, I don't think,"
Nadia smiled. "Wanna make a bet?" She released Crono from her hold, and after muttering a few words, she extended he hands and tiny sparkles of light appeared over Chronos, healing him instantly. She huffed slightly with the effort, and had to sit down and rest. Chronos looked down at himself in surprise, noting his energy was back as well. The girl must have real talent.
With startling suddenness, Magus appeared by the camp's edge, his scythe still in his hands. Everyone leaped into the air and had weapons drawn before the mage had gone another step. Except for Nadia and Glenn, that is. Nadia because (as she explained later) she had met up with Magus and had just run ahead when she spotted Crono, and Glenn because he seemed to be developing a sixth sense as to when his former arch-enemy was close. Needless to say, the sight of Magus surprised Chronos more that a little, who thought he was going to be blind for life after glancing at the Zeal prince.
"Ah, gaul-e!" Lucca complained "Can't you wear a bell or something?"
"An could you tone it down a bit?" Chronos said plaintively with his hands clapped over his eyes. "I'd like to be able to see where I'm going,"
Everyone looked at him questioningly, but Magus ignored both of them. "The battle is over," he stated. "The very few remnants that survived are right now running like cowards across Zenen Bridge with their tails between their legs." He glanced at Chronos, who was just beginning to try to remove his hands. "And I see you found your father. Congratulations are in order." He said it as if congratulations were in order, but he wasn't really going to give them anyway. Everyone else was still wondering what was bugging Chronos.
"Are you alright?" Nadia asked, wondering if she had not healed him fully.
"Fine," he said, slowly opening his eyes and squinting at nothing. "It's just your friend over there had more magic in him than 5 Princes of Zeal have a right to have. And you're not much better, Crono."
"Who, Magus?" Lucca said questioningly. "Of course he does. He is a Zeal prince."
Chronos just gaped at her. Oh, great. First Glenn and the Masamune and now Magus. And nether was suppose to have really existed.
"Why would having magic hurt your eyes?" Crono asked, sounding very confused.
Chronos shook his head, trying to take some of it in. "Can see the mark of magic on people," he muttered distantly. "Stronger the magic, brighter the mark. And what do you mean, he's a Zeal prince? Zeal became extinct over 15,000 years ago!"
"13,002 years this June," Magus said softly. Chronos looked around wildly, and things got worse when he spotted Glenn again.
"And you!" he said. "How can you be here, much less really exist? I thought you were a story, and even if you aren't, you should be dead for 300 years now!"
Glenn laughed slightly. "Crono, thou didst not tell me that story of my assistance with thee had spread."
Crono shrugged. "Never heard stories about it. But then, everything was a little different when we came back from changing the past."
These statements made Chronos ever more wild and bewildered looking (Glenn helped Crono? Changing the past?! ), and so Lucca decided it was story time. "Uh, Crono, don't you think we should make a bigger camp? There are a lot more of us now, it's starting to be evening, and we're too far out to go back to the castle at night. And we can tell your… uh… dad… what we're talking about."
Crono grudgingly nodded his consent, and they brought out the sparse tents and supplies they had brought with them from the castle, refurbished slightly by contributions from the army. Lucca was right. It must be well nigh midnight, and they might need all the rest they can get. All the while, they told Chronos about their first adventure, the parts they had played, about time travel, and Lavos. He was, of course, rather unbelieving at first, but as he listened, everything seemed to make more sense about what was happening. Then they told him of what they had discovered in the past few days, the ambush, mistake, and their suspicions. By that time, they had finished not only all the camp-making, but had had a small conference with the Chief Captain of the Royal Army, and also composed several messages to be sent off to the castle by a swift horse.
Chronos thumbed his chin in deep thought, mulling it all over. He shook his head. "My brain's all full of cobwebs, and I'll have to get some sleep before I can pull it together. So, if no one objects, I'm going to sleep." Everyone nodded their assent. Well, almost everyone.
Crono stood up quickly, trying to protest, to make Chronos explain himself. But, before he could pin him down, his father had crawled into his tent and was fast asleep as soon as he hit the ground. Crono muttered something vile under his breath and stalked off to the tent he shared with Nadia. Oh, well. That slippery old man would have to face him sooner or later. And then, he better a have a very, very good reason for all the pain he'd caused. Father or no father, Crono would make sure he got what he deserved.
***
Two of them! How could their possibly be two of them?
The woman called the Black Heart tightened her fist on the hilt of her crystal sword. The reports she got in were a little scattered, but they all said the same thing. Two spiky-haired redheads had fought on the battlefield yesterday. One wielded a long half moon axe and wore a dark cloak and gauntlets and a black bandana, the other wore a sky blue shirt and trousers, with an orange scarf and a white bandana. The latter bore a long katana that glittered like a rainbow. Both had incredible magic, respectively Ice and Lightning. How could she have ever trusted that sniveling weasel Santen? He couldn't even get information on his own target right.
And that wasn't the half of it. No, it was just the beginning. She had heard reports of incredible fighters in the battle. A purple-haired girl with thick glasses and an odd helmet, a blond with a nasty crossbow, a frog the size of a man with a huge broadsword, and a blue-haired man with a big scythe and incredible Shadow magic. It was the last two that annoyed her the most. They fit the description of Magus and Glenn exactly, which was totally impossible. Even if they were somehow alive in this age, there was no way they would fight together on the same side. They were enemies! She couldn't comprehend how enemies like it talked about in her history book could ever become allies.
Well, she definitely had results from this little test. She didn't think she would ever get the opportunity to face such opponents! They, with the slight help of the Guardian army, had destroyed fully half her army. The weaker half, but half none the less. She grinned fiercely at the prospect of fighting them. Oh, how long would they strive against her, how much would it take to make each one succumb in a pool of their own blood? It made her almost giddy to think about it.
And this was only the beginning. Within a month, she would be queen of this pathetic kingdom, and before that she would face her greatest opponents yet. She laughed delightedly, imagining the looks of terror, despair and defeat on their faces. She was sure this was going to be the best bloodbath she had ever created. All that was left was to lure them into a little trap. And she had the perfect idea. But first, she would send spies to watch them, to learn more about them. Then, she would seal their fate with her crystal sword. Her master would be very pleased.