Chapter V

Aleia-leni:
the Story of Chronos

The day dawned hazily, wisps of clouds dimming the sun's light from the horizon. Soldiers on early-morning duty stirred about, yawning and attending to their different assignments. The wind began to pick up, and rustle the tents and trees. Crono stood staring at the rising sun, his sword unsheathed and cocked over his right shoulder. His hair waved wildly, and his clothing rippled and billowed, but he didn't really notice. His gaze shifted over the rank upon rank of men stirring in their tents, but it always came back to one tent in particular. His eyes hardened, and his grip tightened on the hilt of the Rainbow. All he could do was wait for the old man to get up. Then, Crono swore, he will tell all.

Unconsciously, he shifted into fighting stance, pacing his feet apart and shifting his sword forward, blade up and point down. Having nothing better to do, he began practicing forms, shifting from one movement to the next with sure, deadly grace. His weapon sang as he whipped it through the air, it's glittering blade reflecting all the colors of the rainbow in a sparkling display of light. Abruptly, he sprang forward, and in one leap he was stood in front of the few trees in the area. With incredible speed, he dashed around the trunk, and his form began to blur. The Rainbow Sword flashed faster than many men's eyes could follow. Once. Twice. Three times, four times his weapon sang, and he landed lightly again on his feet, his back to the tree. He sheathed his sword with a resounding clang, and as if the sound as he rammed it home had broken the spell, the tree fall apart behind him, many pieces falling to the ground around his feet.

There was scattered applause, and after a frantic look around, Crono realized half the camp was watching him. He was sure his face matched his hair perfectly now. He stood there awhile, dumbfounded, as the camp continued to cheer. It was a few officers' barked commands that rescued him, and he walked hurriedly back over to stand by his tent. He looked around, hoping none of his friends had been watching. With luck, they were all still asleep after their late night last night.

Of course, he was never that lucky.

"Show off," came Lucca's voice behind him, and he gave a start. He whirled to look, and to his horror, all his friends and his fiancée were staring at him, knowing grins painted on their faces. Even Magus stood there, not looking at him, but shaking his head in disgust. If his face had been red before, it was on fire now. He opened his mouth several time to tell them that he did need to practice, but no words seemed to come out. Finally, he settled for laughing and scratching his head. Why did things like this always happen to him?

Nadia walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek, Lucca leered at him, and Glenn just grinned and shook his head. It was a real relief when they went on to gather around the fire and have some breakfast.

The smells of food began to drift over to him, and Crono licked his lips. He temporarily abandoned his post over his fathers tent to fill the hole in his middle that he had just discovered was there. Even as he began to chow down on the beef and carrot stew, cheese, flat bread and fresh water, he noticed he wasn't the only one eating like it was his last meal on earth. He paused only a moment in his frenzy to glance over at Chronos, who at the moment was gulping down the water. He started eating again, but kept a watchful eye on his sire to make sure he didn't slip away again. The others talked quietly as they ate, occasionally glancing at the food-scarfing duo.

Crono finished first, his plate cleaned of every last crumb, but Chronos seemed to be lingering. There were only a few small carrots from the stew left over, and he poked them around with obvious reluctance to be finished. He ate one, but then just kept on poking again. Crono stared at him, his patience wearing very thin, and his usually non-existent temper about to boil to the top. Abruptly, Chronos got up as if to leave, but Crono was ready. His sword flew out his sheath, and he would not have noticed if the whole world laughed at him then. The blade rested rock-steady right in front of Chronos' face, and he stopped immediately. His gaze followed the blade up to the man holding, and their eyes locked.

"You've got a story to tell, old man," Crono said coldly, the sword never wavering. "And you're going to tell it right now!" His eyes never leaving Crono's, Chronos slowly nodding, and settle back into his seat. In an instant, the Rainbow was re-sheathed, and Crono also sat once more. There was a long moment of silence, as Chronos' head bowed in thought. The others were listening intently, and it seemed nothing existed outside of them in the whole world.

Chronos' head snapped upward, and in a voice like a dead man's, he began.

"It began twenty-one years ago. Twenty-one years long, hard years. Long enough to eat away at your very soul.

"I took a job as a sort of bodyguard for a man named Santen, a merchant who went to the islands to the east—or at least, I thought he was just a merchant at the time. I was good with an axe, if useless with a sword, and had experience with the islands, because I had been an officer of a group called the Dragoons. I had served there for three years before returning to this continent, and by that time had mastered some Ice magic."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Lucca interrupted. "How in the heck did you do that? We, with the exception of Magus, had to go to a place called the End of Time to learn magic. Somehow, I think Speikko would have mentioned seeing another redhead with hair like yours when Crono was there."

Chronos shook his head. "I don't know about anyplace called the End of Time, except what you've told me of it," he told her, "and I discovered magic quite by accident on my own." Lucca's eyebrows rose in a question that could not be clearer if she had shouted it.

"Well," Chronos said reluctantly, "You see, in El Nido—that's what the islanders call their islands—they use something very different from the magic that we use. They do the same sorts of things we do, but the energy does not come from within. They have these things called Elements, all classified by color, and use them on each other in battle. You have to carried a lot with you, because once you use an Element, it takes hours for it to recharge. Anyway, I went out on a scouting mission one time for the Dragoons, and ran into a large group of bandits. I don't know why they jumped me, I didn't have that much money, but I quickly realized that I had left most of my Elements back at my last campsite. A definite no-no.

"As I used up my last one sending a bandit to his final reward, I was pretty sure I was going to die."

"But something happened in that moment," Magus murmured, "when you thought that you were truly going to die, and something surged within you, trying to burst out of every pore. You struck out, and struck hard, and they were ether very afraid… or very dead."

Chronos stared at him like everyone else, and gave a short nod. Magus smiled grimly, his eyes as hard as steel. "You are not the only one who had to learn it the hard way, aleia-leni," he said coldly.

Chronos gave a start at the name, obviously because he recognized it. Lucca leaned forward. "What does that name mean," she asked him intently, "and how did you get it?"

Chronos stared at her a moment. "How in the..! Never mind. I'll ask later." He smiled ruefully, his eyes looking into the past. "It was a nickname the Dragoons gave me. It means 'Storm Crow'. Or perhaps closer would be "Bird of the Storm". They were very poetic, and quite stupid, and no matter how hard I tried, the name wouldn't un-stick. Sometime I ought to go back and repay them for their kindness." The sound of Chronos' cracking knuckles was disturbingly like bones breaking.

"Go back to when Santen hired you out," Crono growled, not caring much for his fathers illustrious past.

"Alright, alright, already! Don't get your underpants tied in a knot." Crono gave his father a very dangerous look, and Chronos hastily continued.

"Well, we sailed for days to reach the place he wanted to go, occasionally stopping along the way. He said it was to hear the news from the towns, but I suspect he had other errands to run. Anyway, we finally made it to a little island in the southern part of El Nido. He left me to guard the ship while he did his business on the island, and after he loaded a lot of cargo in boxes into the vessel, we set sail and arrived at the main island of El Nido. Once again, he left me to tend the ship while he had the cargo carried onto the island."

He frowned wonderingly, a look that was a little strange to see with Crono's features. "I don't know why I was such an idiot," he continued. "I should have seen right away that the whole thing was just a scam, a setup. But no, I just sat back and kept my mouth shut." He laughed bitterly, age lines appearing on his face that had not been there before.

"Perhaps it was my own greed. I was paid very well, after all. Perhaps it was because I wasn't curious. But, personally, I think it was just my own weakening, shaming fear. I couldn't step forward. I just let the tides be. Three years that went on. Three years of burying my head in sand while the pain went on." He scowled, anger burning in his eyes. "Finally, on the third year, the last year, I decided once and for all to see. Marge thought I went that last year before quitting to sooth ruffled feathers. But I had a purpose in mind, a purpose which had waited far, far too long.

"I snuck out that night, and followed a small group of the men that unloaded the cargo from the sight. They did not go far inland. We stopped at a cave mouth near the Arni Village, just off the southern coast of the main island. They went in, and I waited behind some nearby rocks until they would leave. They almost immediately came out again, bearing huge loads of boxes. I waited until they were out of hearing range, then went in."

He paused, and seemed to be searching for the words. His hands clenched and unclenched reflexively, and open tears steamed down his face.

"I can scarcely describe what was inside," he said in an unsteady voice. "They were mines. Mines for the Elements I told you about. But there were not miners working the glittering halls of hell, but poor, dirty men, women, and children. They were so gaunt and weak they could hardly stand. The dead bodies piled up on the floor were ignored as if they were house lint. Men stood every thirty paces, their whips cracking on the backs of those who were beneath them. The sound of picks and hammers rang throughout the dim corridors, and the stench of death permeated the air thicker than a fog. Weeping and moaning was the only sound the slaves made, for slaves they were, their last vestige of defiance beaten from them. They were living dead; lives nothing but empty husks of sorrow.

"And beyond that; beyond the anguish, the despair, was the feeling of evil like I had never felt before. An evil so twisted that even to get near it would bring your worst desires, you most horrible thoughts, to the surface. The deeper you went, the stronger the feeling grew. I wanted desperately to run away, to hide forever, but I could not. I could not just stand by and let countless thousands be slaughtered for my benefit, for the greed and power of men."

His face hardened again, and the anger shone again in his eyes again, greater than before. "I killed all the guards. They paid the price for what they had done. I shooed all the slaves out. They were cowed easily enough. Though I loathed to do it, I got even the ones nearest to the evil, the ones that had gone insane from it, and got every one of them out. I used every Element I had on me to cave in the entire thing, but I knew that would not be enough. I summoned every bit of strength to seal it in a wall of ice thick enough to last twenty years of hot summers. The noise of it all drew more guards. They never lived to tell tales. Though my magical strength was gone, they died well enough under my axe blade. I did battle with many men that night, avenging the pain and death and sorrow with every stroke, and they fell like trees beneath a woodsman's axe."

His face grew somber, and he continued in the dead voice again. "I hired a fishing boat to take me back to the Zenen continent, back to Marge. I didn't know at the time whether Santen was innocent or not, but I couldn't take any chances. It turned out he was guilty anyway.

"In any case, I spent the next few months in a depression that would not shake. Marge tried so hard to cheer me up, but it was no good. It seemed I would never smile again." He paused, and then looked wonderingly up at Crono, and a sudden smile painted his lips, as if denying the previous statement. "Until my son was born. That made me forget what had happened, or at least accept the things that had happened on El Nido as mistakes that I would never make again. I thought, at last, I was free."

His smile faded, like brief sunshine streaking out of the clouds, only to be muffled again but a coming storm. "It did not last long. Soon, Santen, at the peril of his own life, came to me, demanding I accompany him once more. When I refused, and had to almost bodily throw him out, he told me he knew I had done it, and that he would send armies to get me. He ran before I could kill him."

He looked again at Crono, sorrow running deep in him, his eyes begging for forgiveness. "And so I left," he said simply. "I knew that as long as I stayed, my family, my wife and son, would be in danger. So I left; left my home, left everything I loved, and enough money to last them for many years. I returned to El Nido, to try to find some peace. But Santen had not been boasting when he said he would send armies after me. Mercenaries and bounty hunters hunted me for nineteen years; chased me from island to island, year after year. I defeated every one, and for every one I defeated, two more came. It went on this way, an endless cycle of death, until few months ago. I had returned to the main island, to see if my wall of ice still held out." His hand closed into a fist and shook, anger painted plainly on his face. "It didn't. The cave had not only reopened, but the feel of evil crept even to the surface now. I was going to stop it, just like I did last time, but as soon as I showed my face, I was attacked by others who used magic.

"They were about my level of strength, and there were dozens of them. I barely escaped alive, much less put an end to the evil. I didn't really know what to do… I had no chance of living much longer if Santen could hire people like that. I decided… for the last time… to go home. To see my family before I die. Just to catch a glimpse of their faces, even at a distance. Now, things have changed again. Santen has sent a woman, known as the Black Heart, disciple of the Dark Man, of which nothing is known but his name. She is said to command a massive army, and to be nearly unbeatable in battle. She is also famed for her love of bloodshed, and death."

Magus's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward. "What does she look like?" he demanded abruptly and Chronos turned to him, steady eyes regarding him.

"She is said to be breathtakingly beautiful, with deep black hair and green eyes. She dresses always in black, and carries some type of crystal sword."

Magus let out a low hiss, and was suddenly on his feet, midnight cloak swirling around him. His face shone with hot anger, and he bared his teeth in a silent snarl. Glenn was also on his feet, the Masamune eased in it's sheath, and his nostrils flared with rage. Lucca and Nadia looked worried, but Crono made no move.

Chronos looked over at them all, wonder in his eyes, and his gaze finally settled on his son. His smile suddenly returned a hundred fold, and he seemed more like Crono again. He stood up.

"Crono!" he said excitedly, his fist shaking in air. "Together, with your friends, with all your incredible powers, we can stop them forever! They will never cause suffering again! The only death they will know for now until eternity will be their own! It can be ended!"

Crono just stared at him, not uttering a word. "Will you help?" Chronos said desperately. "Will you stop the death, the pain, the sorrow? Will you help me stop the evil?!"

Crono slowly stood, and his face seemed carved from marble, and the spiky redhead gazed intently at Chronos out of hardened jade eyes. He smiled suddenly, just a slight curving of one lip, and thrust his hand in the air. Chronos took it immediately, a triumphant look light up his face. "I'll do it," Crono said, their hands still clasped. It was time. "And may the winds of time blow our way."

"It shall be done!" Glenn roared, brandishing the Masamune in the air. Evil would never endure. Not while his body had breath and blood!

"All right!" Nadia shouted, jumping in the air and clapping her hands. Time to save the world again.

Lucca simply smiled, but she fingered her gun eagerly, as if she wanted to take them on right now. Science would once more be put to the test.

Magus nodded jerkily, his face a mask of cold anger. For Schala, forever.

The day had come. The battle lines were drawn, the story of the past has been unfolded, and their enemy was made known. Time slowly began to unravel all it's mysteries, and it seems the last has been revealed. Or has it?

***

The woman know as the Black Heart frowned in concentration, her fingers playing with a jagged, hooked dagger and her mind elsewhere. She was lounging on one of her favorite cautioned chairs, and slaves and servants surround her, ready to fulfill her slightest whim. She failed to see the point in such luxury. It had absolutely no meaning to her. She had grown up a very poor child, and it seemed strange to her that she would not enjoy such riches, but the thought was fleeting, and of little consequence. Their were far more important matters to attend to, matters which actually drew her interest.

She had sent her spies out that very morning, and they were assuredly already nearing their intended targets. She wondered how she could take advantage of the information they would give her. Just little facts; who they were, who were their friends and families, and she would have simply the perfect notion as to what to do to draw them out. But, one thing at a time, and she was patient.

She glanced upward as a movement caught her eye. One of her demi-human slaves was walking unsteadily toward her, her normally reddish face chalk white, and her entire body shook with nerves. Black Heart sat up, and her emerald eyes focused speculatively on the creature. She had had this one for many years, and after the demi-human's entire family had been slaughtered when she had not done a task to it's complete perfection, she had shown no emotion whatsoever from then on. It must be something very interesting to shake this one up so.

She made a small gesture with one finger, giving the slave leave to speak. The demi-human hesitated. Black Heart's eyebrows rose sharply, and she leaned forward. The slave flinched.

"M-mistress!" she said haltingly. "Th-th-there is s-someone to s-see you! He…" she trailed as a large figure stepped into the room, and the lights seemed to dim at the presence.

The shape seemed nothing more than a shadow at first, it's monstrous form stretching well over seven feet in the air. The shadow turned, revealing a familiar face. His thin lips were twisted into a parody of a smile, but a true smile could never have formed itself on that visage. His eyes were far too tainted and cruel to be human, pools of death and darkness that threatened to swallow any who gazed upon them. His short-cut straw hair seemed very out of place with the rest of him, and his entire being radiated with untold power.

Black Heart gasped, and without thought instantly knelt smoothly on her knees. "Master…" she whispered reverently, here voice throbbing with adoration. She quickly bowed down, her forehead touching the floor and her hands spread, palms down. She had never expected her Master to lower himself to come to this defiled land. In here heart, she was unspeakably glad he was with her, but at the same time she feared that in some way she might have earned his anger. And to anger the Dark Man was to twist in agony forever.

She stayed there for several seconds while her Master looked down on her. "Rise, my greatest disciple," he said softly, but his voice still sounded like thunder, with so much hatred and loathing and rage that it seemed there could never possibly be anything else. Black Heart rose to her feet swiftly, admiration shining in her face. "I have waited long to behold your face again," He rumbled. "Tell me, what of you doings in this place?"

"Everything has gone even better than I had desired, Master," she glowed. "Even with all the lies that Santen told us, I have found many enemies worthy to be called such, all with powers that will be a great challenge. They will take long before they die, will bleed every last drop before they collapse in despair." She paused, her eyes brightening. "But what of you, Master? Why have you come to me now?"

The smile that wasn't a smile widened, and a shadowy arm tightened on something within his cloak. "I have recovered the artifact," he told her, and she drew her breath sharply. "And after doing such, I decided to pay you a visit. I felt powers in the last few days that I had not noticed before. I can only assume they are your enemies." He looked at her, and she nodded proudly.

The smile never slipping, he glanced behind him. "So, Santen has lied to us, has he?" Where his gaze struck, something flinched violently, something that Black Heart had not noticed before with the entrance of her Master. Santen crouched in the corner, waving his shaking hands in protest.

"It isn't true!" he moaned. "I told you everything I knew, Master! Please, Master! I—"

"So now my disciple is a liar?" the Dark Man interrupted. "Is that it, Santen?"

Santen's eyes bulged, and he convulsed with terror. "No, Great Master no! I just meant—"

"I'm afraid you've outlived your usefulness, Santen," he continued as if the other man had not spoken. Slowly, he turned toward his servant, one hand stretched out at him.

"NO!" Santen screamed, desperately clawing at the wall to escape. "MASTER, PLEASE, I—"

The words stopped abruptly as the outstretched hand lightly touched his Santen's forehead. Santen froze in horror, and for a moment, it seemed nothing at all was happening. But the Black Heart knew better. Slowly, ever so slowly, Santens skin began to contract and shrivel up, and he began to scream. His arms began to stretch out and sag, and all his hair fell out. Abruptly, his face began to drift, slowly tearing away, revealing rapidly rotting flesh. All the rest of him began to decay at an incredible pace, and soon his arms and legs were falling apart, and his bones began turning to butter. Finally, his head rotted completely away, leaving nothing but a bubbling pile of skin and blood. He had screamed up until the very last instant. Black Heart could only smile.

"Now then," the Dark Man said softly as if nothing unusual had happened, "Now that that has been dealt with, I think I should take a look at these new enemies, don't you?" His disciple nodded eagerly. Her Master had always had the ability to send his mind out and see and hear people from great distances away. He could even read some peoples thoughts: especially people that had a turn toward darkness. This would mean she would not have to wait for her spies after all. She rubbed her hands eagerly, like a little girl waiting for a present.

Her Master cupped his hands together, and his head bowed slightly. There was a silent moment, but after that passed, their began to be a faint glow surrounding the Dark Man. She knew he was already gone. She wondered what secrets he would garner, and who among her enemies would he be able to read? She would simply have to wait.

***

Magus sat up abruptly from his stoop, and his sharp eyes scanned the surroundings. He could feel something watching; something with an evil so pure, it almost made him appear almost saintly. It felt almost like it was whispering in his ear, speaking in a voice just low enough so that he couldn't catch the words. But where? Where was it coming from? Though the sense of it was clear, he could see no other indication of a presence. He began to watch the trees warily, and his eyes shot toward any sudden movements. He paid the conversation the others were having only half a mind, but it still in his ears.

"I know!" Lucca Ashtear was saying. "I'll go get Epoch! With the weaponry it carries and the speed it goes, it'll be great for fighting this Black Heart's army. And besides, we can visit Melchior using it." She shuddered briefly. "It's much better than taking the whirlpool to the other continent."

"Great idea, Lucca!" Nadia said excitedly. "It'll be great to be flying around in the Wings of Time again!"

"This isn't a pleasure cruise, Nadia. We're getting it to serve a purpose, not to go joy-riding in."

"Oh, come off it. Like you don't want to test out the new modifications you've made to it."

"How did you know…"

Nadia smiled at her sweetly. "I don't have your scientific genius, but I do have a pair of eyes, and I know how to use them."

"Ah, shut up."

"Hey! Don't you tell me to…" Magus jerked his head away in disgust, not even paying half a mind anymore. Then, as suddenly as it had come, the evil was gone. He stared around in confusion, trying to puzzle out what it was. What was it? Where did it come from? He decided it was useless to tell the others. After all, it was nothing but a feeling, and no matter how much he trusted his feelings, he need more solid evidence before he told them. Time would tell. That's just the way it was.

***

Suddenly, the glow around her Master disappeared, and he looked up at her. Something very close to excitement lit his soulless eyes, and she knew at once that he was pleased.

"Come," he said shortly. "We will talk of our new enemies. I have gained all I need to know about them. One among them was very close the darkness at one time, and some of it still lives in him." A laugh that had no humanity in it echoing in the little tent, and his fist tightened on something in his cloak again. She wondered what it was, but if her Master saw fit to keep it from her, then that's how it would be.

"Now," the Dark Man said, "I will tell you the story of a once glorious man named Magus, who gave up his great vision for a worthless, weakening emotion. A man who allied himself with his enemies, and gave up his goals for a mere woman. I'm sure you will like it. It will truly be our foes undoing."

***

The woman blinked and looked around as the glow of a blue vortex faded behind her, her eyes slowly adjusting to the light of the blinding daystar. She had just come from a place that had always been dark, and she had not seen the sun, the beautiful, glorious sun, for more years than she cared to count, for more lifetimes than she could ever remember.

She shivered at the thought. She had been kept there while endless years stretched by, forever locked in the nightmare of an entities' infinite enmity for her planet. An enmity that had not died even with that which gave it birth's own death, and had kept on to threaten all time once again. She, in a way, had been it's slave, it's power source. It had kept her locked away, unable to feel anything of herself, unable to fight it. Only half-seen visions of the outside world kept her going, kept her sane. But now, that didn't matter. The song, the song the boy had played, had set her free. Free, so that she could return to the one she held dear.

She looked down at herself, and smiled slightly. Her fine purple silk robe was wrinkled and tattered, and her violet hair was snarled and unkempt. The smile faded into a pensive frown, and she shrugged. I suppose I can cheat a little… she thought, blushing. Just this once. With brief look of concentration and wave of one hand, a brilliant light surrounded her. It stayed there a moment, pulsating, and then with a purple-gold flash, it was gone.

Her hair was now combed and immaculate, her dress was unlined and clean, and her formerly bare feet were now shod in a pair of sturdy slippers. She looked down at herself, spun in a happy circle, giggling and admiring her handiwork. Yes, this would be just fine! She knew it was a little vain, and more than a bit silly, but it made her feel better. It was just a girl thing.

Her eyes widened a moment as something came to her. Her expression brightened all the more, and she stopped spinning. He was here! She could feel him! She couldn't tell where, or how, but she knew it as surely as she was standing there. At last; at long, long last, she would they would be reunited. Nothing would hurt them again.

I'm coming for you, Janus.