Note: This chapter will start to connect back to events in The Contest.
Also, if I keep changing the title (is it Savior OF the Seas or Savior FROM the Seas???), forgive me. Memory was never my best quality. Again, keep in mind that NONE of this could happen in the game. At least, I don't think so. Oh, and there's LOTS of blood in this chapter...
Savior of the Seas, Part 2: The Chamber of Blood
Bargos was trying not to be nervous. But then, there was a dragon in front of him. How could he NOT be nervous?
The Dark Dragon, on the other hand, appeared to be bored. It was obvious he didn't know the first thing about entertaining guests, and he had no desire to learn, either. He was simply Guardian of the Pit. Nothing else really mattered.
So the two simply stared at each other for the most part, until Bargos grew too afraid and turned to the wall, or until the Dark Dragon closed his eyes and sighed, blowing century-old breezes around the room.
Finally, Bargos couldn't take the near silence anymore. He cleared his throat.
The Dark Dragon opened his eyes. "What is it?"
Bargos hesitated. "Do you...uh...like jokes?"
The dragon blinked. "No."
"Oh."
"Why?"
Bargos grinned sheepishly. "If you did, I was going to tell you some. But since you don't, I'll just shut up now."
The dragon appeared to be considering the offer. "I suppose I could tell you something," he said at last.
"You...know jokes?"
"Of course not."
"Stories?" Bargos guessed.
"Oh, yes," the dragon replied. "But there is only one I am allowed to tell others. Would you like to know how the Chamber of Blood got its name?"
His first instinct was to say no and to say it quickly. But Bargos thought for a moment. A dragon had offered to tell him a story most likely filled with death and destruction. Never mind the content, it was STILL a dragon, and probably a very hungry one, since he hadn't seen anything even slightly edible anywhere in the castle. So Bargos swallowed noisily and nodded.
The dragon seemed pleased. "Good. This is the history of the Chamber of Blood. Try not to vomit if you can help it..."
* * * * *
Phinneus Wynn was not a well-known man. At least, not while he was alive. The few people that did know him wished they didn't. He was large man in girth, but a short man in both stature and temperament. In other words, he was short, fat, and quite nasty to everyone in general. But he was quite wealthy, too, and made sure anyone who passed his castle knew it.
One day, while walking through the forest, Wynn had come upon a small girl. She was trying to coax her cat out of a tree. As soon as she spotted Wynn, the little girl ran over and begged him to help her. In a rare act of kindness Phinneus had agreed. He tapped lightly on the high branch with his cane, and the kitten slowly followed the sound.
And then, with his face in a hideous snarl, Wynn had hurled the cane with all his might at the poor creature. The cat barely had time to screech as it fell off the branch and hit the ground, were it most certainly did not land on its feet.
The little girl screamed in horror at the sight of her dying cat. Wynn, on the other hand, merely threw back his head and laughed. He was indeed a cruel and heartless man, a fact he would soon pay for.
The girl slowly turned to face him, her eyes full of hatred. Then she began to grow, until she towered over him, and it was clear that this had never been a girl at all. It was in fact a fairy of the forest, and clearly a very angry one now.
Wynn had stopped laughing then, as he, like any man with sense, knew that fairies could be the most vengeful creatures alive, if provoked.
"I curse you, Phinneus Wynn," she'd whispered in a hollow voice. "From this day forth, you will forever be stained in the blood which you have spilled this day, until the very sight of it drives you mad, and to your terrible demise."
The words were barely out of her mouth when Wynn noticed the blood on his hands. It was pouring out at an alarming rate, and yet, he wasn't the slightest bit dizzy. In fact, the loss of blood would never put him in any real danger. It was the sight of it that did that.
From that day on, Wynn never stopped bleeding. Sometimes it was his hands, or feet, or nose, or mouth, but some part of him was always bleeding. There was nothing he could do.
Soon, everything he owned was covered in blood, and so was much of his castle. He could not leave the castle, as anyone who saw him would run away screaming. And all his clothes were ruined, anyway. He couldn't sleep in his bed, since it, too, was covered in crimson. He couldn't eat, drink, or even relieve himself. And the blood just kept coming.
Finally, driven mad by the constant red flow, Wynn had climbed into his castle tower and merely sat there in the center of it, laughing maniacally as the blood surrounded him. Soon, the room began to sink inward, creating a rather deep pit in the middle of it. Wynn still sat there, laughing until his own blood swallowed him up. And he kept laughing until he drowned. Only then did the blood flow cease.
Years later, the castle was sold, and the new owner found the soggy, decaying corpse of Phinneus Wynn floating in the dark pool. Instead of removing it, he opened it up to public display, and made quite a bit of money off it, until the corpse rotted away to bones, and then nothing altogether.
The next owner was much smarter. He created a tale to go with the bloody pit. How anyone that happened to fall into the pit would be possessed by the soul of Phinneus Wynn, and how they would meet his horrible fate. He claimed only the greatest warriors could emerge from the pit unharmed and totally invincible, strengthened by the blood of a madman.
It was indeed a crazy tale, but people for miles around thought it was true. So all the warriors in the land came to Wynn Castle, to test themselves (for a hefty price). But first, of course, they had to prove they were great by defeating another warrior. So the room became a place of even more bloodshed, and the blood of the fiercest warriors drained into that of Wynn, making for quite a volatile mixture.
The loser of such battles was disgraced and sent away, but he kept his sanity. The winner, however, was submerged into the pit for ten seconds, and each one came up laughing and covered in blood. It was soon found that they were not only covered in blood, but that they were losing it, as well. But this time, it was not from some magical source. It was their own life's blood, and each soon perished.
At some point, the Dark Dragon took up residence in the castle, driving the humans away. He proclaimed himself Guardian of the Pit, and said that anyone who wished to battle in the Chamber of Blood would have to pass his tests. No one knew what the tests were, and those who passed them were either sworn to secrecy, or did not wish to speak of them.
* * * * *
Serge had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach when he woke up. At first, he suspected it might just be hunger, or a stomach ache. But something told him it was more than that. However, he didn't have time to think about it.
"Serge! Breakfast is ready!"
He smiled a bit, wondering if Marie ever ran out of energy. Someone like that could probably go the distance with Radius himself back in the old days. Serge pushed the memories from his head and dressed quickly.
The smell of pancakes hit him long before he reached the kitchen. Still, he was pretty surprised to see a huge stack of them on the table. He was even more surprised to see who was cooking them. "Harle?"
"Bonjour, mon ami! Did you sleep well?"
Serge nodded. "You never told me you could cook."
"You did not ask," she replied with a smile. "Now, sit, sit!"
Marie suddenly appeared and grabbed Serge's hand. "Over here!" She pulled him over to a nearby chair and pushed a plate in front of him.
"Where's your mother?" Serge asked.
"Oh, she went out for a while. She'll be back soon."
* * * * *
It wasn't the first time Kid had entered the Chamber of Blood. She suspected the dragon remembered her from the last time, but she couldn't be sure. At any rate, she had a good feeling of what the pit would show her, so she mentally prepared herself for it.
The room sloped downward as she came closer to the pit. If the rumors were true, this was so all the blood would run into the pit. The liquid itself almost seemed brown by the torch's light. But as Kid reached the pit, the color quickly turned to crimson.
Kid set the torch into a nearby holder and drew out her knife. "Chamber of Blood, I offer my essence to you as a sacrifice." She carefully pricked her finger and watched a droplets splash into the pool.
There was a low rumbling sound, and then a deep voice was heard. "What is it you wish to see?"
"Show me how Serge, Lynx, Harle, and I are connected."
There was a slight pause before the voice replied, "Gaze into the pit and view your past."
* * * * *
A somewhat younger Harle walked across the rooftop, occasionally stopping to pet the stone gargoyles. Suddenly, there was a familiar voice behind her.
"I've done it, dear Harle. I've finally done it."
Harle turned and stared up at the demi-human. "What have you done, Monsieur Pussy Cat?"
Lynx ignored the girl's annoying pet name for him, partially because he was in such a good mood, and scooped her up with one arm. "My plan is gradually falling into place, child. First, I battled and defeated Kid in the Chamber of Blood. And today, I have faced Serge there as well."
"Did you win?" Harle asked eagerly.
"No, but that is unimportant. Both of us lost blood, and that's what matters! After all these years of plotting, my dream is coming together so perfectly. If the Dark Dragon keeps his word, I will not need the Chrono Trigger. I will make my own!"
"Do not celebrate yet, Master Lynx," said the stone gargoyle nearest to them. Its face contorted and formed a reptilian face.
Harle's eyes widened, and she tried to hide herself beneath Lynx's cloak. "What iz it, Monsieur?"
Lynx's eyes narrowed. "Don't worry, Harle. This is the Dark Dragon. It seems he was to busy to come in person."
The dragon's image snorted. "The child has no need to worry. You are the one that should worry, Master Lynx."
"And why is that?" Lynx asked calmly.
"I know of your evil plans, and I cannot allow them to occur."
"It matters not what you wish, Dark Dragon. You gave me your word that you would create another Chrono Trigger."
The dragon smiled. "And I shall keep my word. However, it will take time to create such a being. Therefore, I am adding some new stipulations to our deal. First, your firstborn child must drain your life's blood. Then, after your blood has stained the earth for one month, I will complete the Chrono Trigger, and deliver it at a time of my choosing."
"Fool! What good will a Chrono Trigger be to me after I am dead?!"
The dragon snorted again. "That is not my concern, Master Lynx. I will do as I have just told you."
Before Lynx could protest, the dragon faded away, and the stone gargoyle was left in its place.
"Monsieur?" Harle asked quietly after a moment.
Lynx glanced down at her. "What is it, Harle?"
"When I am older, I will kill ze mean dragon for you."
Lynx chuckled and patted her head. "No, my child. That won't be necessary. But I appreciate the offer. There is something else you can do for me, though." He pulled something small and blue out of his cloak and placed it in her hand. "Keep this for me. I think it will be useful to you someday."
Harle brought the object up to her face. It was a lock of hair.
* * * * *
Kid frowned as the image faded back to crimson. "So Serge fought Lynx here, too. And it looks like Lynx wanted Harle's obsession with Serge to start earlier than I first thought."
"You have seen the past," the voice announced. "Now, you must face the future."
There was a slight ripple in the pit, and a hand shot out and wrapped around Kid's neck, pulling her head under the crimson liquid.
Kid struggled until the grip grew weaker, and managed to pull her head out. Still, she could feel the cold fingers digging into her neck, and as the red gradually faded from her vision, she swallowed a gasp of shock.
Through a curtain of familiar blue hair, she could just make out a pair of piercing blue eyes. But not just any blue eyes. They were the same cold, merciless eyes that had been in her worst nightmares. Even Lynx's green eyes came in second to the terror these eyes brought.
They were the same eyes that had nearly broken her heart and taken her life all at once.
The owner of the eyes slowly emerged from the pit, never losing his grip on Kid's neck. He kept walking until her back was to the wall. Then he leaned in close, smiling evilly, and pressed his damp lips to her ear. "Mother," he whispered, a chuckle building in his throat. "So good to see you again."
Kid shuddered as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. Only one phrase kept repeating itself in her head before the world turned black: Dark Serge was back.
Continued in Part 3: A Tale of Two Triggers
Also, if I keep changing the title (is it Savior OF the Seas or Savior FROM the Seas???), forgive me. Memory was never my best quality. Again, keep in mind that NONE of this could happen in the game. At least, I don't think so. Oh, and there's LOTS of blood in this chapter...
Savior of the Seas, Part 2: The Chamber of Blood
Bargos was trying not to be nervous. But then, there was a dragon in front of him. How could he NOT be nervous?
The Dark Dragon, on the other hand, appeared to be bored. It was obvious he didn't know the first thing about entertaining guests, and he had no desire to learn, either. He was simply Guardian of the Pit. Nothing else really mattered.
So the two simply stared at each other for the most part, until Bargos grew too afraid and turned to the wall, or until the Dark Dragon closed his eyes and sighed, blowing century-old breezes around the room.
Finally, Bargos couldn't take the near silence anymore. He cleared his throat.
The Dark Dragon opened his eyes. "What is it?"
Bargos hesitated. "Do you...uh...like jokes?"
The dragon blinked. "No."
"Oh."
"Why?"
Bargos grinned sheepishly. "If you did, I was going to tell you some. But since you don't, I'll just shut up now."
The dragon appeared to be considering the offer. "I suppose I could tell you something," he said at last.
"You...know jokes?"
"Of course not."
"Stories?" Bargos guessed.
"Oh, yes," the dragon replied. "But there is only one I am allowed to tell others. Would you like to know how the Chamber of Blood got its name?"
His first instinct was to say no and to say it quickly. But Bargos thought for a moment. A dragon had offered to tell him a story most likely filled with death and destruction. Never mind the content, it was STILL a dragon, and probably a very hungry one, since he hadn't seen anything even slightly edible anywhere in the castle. So Bargos swallowed noisily and nodded.
The dragon seemed pleased. "Good. This is the history of the Chamber of Blood. Try not to vomit if you can help it..."
* * * * *
Phinneus Wynn was not a well-known man. At least, not while he was alive. The few people that did know him wished they didn't. He was large man in girth, but a short man in both stature and temperament. In other words, he was short, fat, and quite nasty to everyone in general. But he was quite wealthy, too, and made sure anyone who passed his castle knew it.
One day, while walking through the forest, Wynn had come upon a small girl. She was trying to coax her cat out of a tree. As soon as she spotted Wynn, the little girl ran over and begged him to help her. In a rare act of kindness Phinneus had agreed. He tapped lightly on the high branch with his cane, and the kitten slowly followed the sound.
And then, with his face in a hideous snarl, Wynn had hurled the cane with all his might at the poor creature. The cat barely had time to screech as it fell off the branch and hit the ground, were it most certainly did not land on its feet.
The little girl screamed in horror at the sight of her dying cat. Wynn, on the other hand, merely threw back his head and laughed. He was indeed a cruel and heartless man, a fact he would soon pay for.
The girl slowly turned to face him, her eyes full of hatred. Then she began to grow, until she towered over him, and it was clear that this had never been a girl at all. It was in fact a fairy of the forest, and clearly a very angry one now.
Wynn had stopped laughing then, as he, like any man with sense, knew that fairies could be the most vengeful creatures alive, if provoked.
"I curse you, Phinneus Wynn," she'd whispered in a hollow voice. "From this day forth, you will forever be stained in the blood which you have spilled this day, until the very sight of it drives you mad, and to your terrible demise."
The words were barely out of her mouth when Wynn noticed the blood on his hands. It was pouring out at an alarming rate, and yet, he wasn't the slightest bit dizzy. In fact, the loss of blood would never put him in any real danger. It was the sight of it that did that.
From that day on, Wynn never stopped bleeding. Sometimes it was his hands, or feet, or nose, or mouth, but some part of him was always bleeding. There was nothing he could do.
Soon, everything he owned was covered in blood, and so was much of his castle. He could not leave the castle, as anyone who saw him would run away screaming. And all his clothes were ruined, anyway. He couldn't sleep in his bed, since it, too, was covered in crimson. He couldn't eat, drink, or even relieve himself. And the blood just kept coming.
Finally, driven mad by the constant red flow, Wynn had climbed into his castle tower and merely sat there in the center of it, laughing maniacally as the blood surrounded him. Soon, the room began to sink inward, creating a rather deep pit in the middle of it. Wynn still sat there, laughing until his own blood swallowed him up. And he kept laughing until he drowned. Only then did the blood flow cease.
Years later, the castle was sold, and the new owner found the soggy, decaying corpse of Phinneus Wynn floating in the dark pool. Instead of removing it, he opened it up to public display, and made quite a bit of money off it, until the corpse rotted away to bones, and then nothing altogether.
The next owner was much smarter. He created a tale to go with the bloody pit. How anyone that happened to fall into the pit would be possessed by the soul of Phinneus Wynn, and how they would meet his horrible fate. He claimed only the greatest warriors could emerge from the pit unharmed and totally invincible, strengthened by the blood of a madman.
It was indeed a crazy tale, but people for miles around thought it was true. So all the warriors in the land came to Wynn Castle, to test themselves (for a hefty price). But first, of course, they had to prove they were great by defeating another warrior. So the room became a place of even more bloodshed, and the blood of the fiercest warriors drained into that of Wynn, making for quite a volatile mixture.
The loser of such battles was disgraced and sent away, but he kept his sanity. The winner, however, was submerged into the pit for ten seconds, and each one came up laughing and covered in blood. It was soon found that they were not only covered in blood, but that they were losing it, as well. But this time, it was not from some magical source. It was their own life's blood, and each soon perished.
At some point, the Dark Dragon took up residence in the castle, driving the humans away. He proclaimed himself Guardian of the Pit, and said that anyone who wished to battle in the Chamber of Blood would have to pass his tests. No one knew what the tests were, and those who passed them were either sworn to secrecy, or did not wish to speak of them.
* * * * *
Serge had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach when he woke up. At first, he suspected it might just be hunger, or a stomach ache. But something told him it was more than that. However, he didn't have time to think about it.
"Serge! Breakfast is ready!"
He smiled a bit, wondering if Marie ever ran out of energy. Someone like that could probably go the distance with Radius himself back in the old days. Serge pushed the memories from his head and dressed quickly.
The smell of pancakes hit him long before he reached the kitchen. Still, he was pretty surprised to see a huge stack of them on the table. He was even more surprised to see who was cooking them. "Harle?"
"Bonjour, mon ami! Did you sleep well?"
Serge nodded. "You never told me you could cook."
"You did not ask," she replied with a smile. "Now, sit, sit!"
Marie suddenly appeared and grabbed Serge's hand. "Over here!" She pulled him over to a nearby chair and pushed a plate in front of him.
"Where's your mother?" Serge asked.
"Oh, she went out for a while. She'll be back soon."
* * * * *
It wasn't the first time Kid had entered the Chamber of Blood. She suspected the dragon remembered her from the last time, but she couldn't be sure. At any rate, she had a good feeling of what the pit would show her, so she mentally prepared herself for it.
The room sloped downward as she came closer to the pit. If the rumors were true, this was so all the blood would run into the pit. The liquid itself almost seemed brown by the torch's light. But as Kid reached the pit, the color quickly turned to crimson.
Kid set the torch into a nearby holder and drew out her knife. "Chamber of Blood, I offer my essence to you as a sacrifice." She carefully pricked her finger and watched a droplets splash into the pool.
There was a low rumbling sound, and then a deep voice was heard. "What is it you wish to see?"
"Show me how Serge, Lynx, Harle, and I are connected."
There was a slight pause before the voice replied, "Gaze into the pit and view your past."
* * * * *
A somewhat younger Harle walked across the rooftop, occasionally stopping to pet the stone gargoyles. Suddenly, there was a familiar voice behind her.
"I've done it, dear Harle. I've finally done it."
Harle turned and stared up at the demi-human. "What have you done, Monsieur Pussy Cat?"
Lynx ignored the girl's annoying pet name for him, partially because he was in such a good mood, and scooped her up with one arm. "My plan is gradually falling into place, child. First, I battled and defeated Kid in the Chamber of Blood. And today, I have faced Serge there as well."
"Did you win?" Harle asked eagerly.
"No, but that is unimportant. Both of us lost blood, and that's what matters! After all these years of plotting, my dream is coming together so perfectly. If the Dark Dragon keeps his word, I will not need the Chrono Trigger. I will make my own!"
"Do not celebrate yet, Master Lynx," said the stone gargoyle nearest to them. Its face contorted and formed a reptilian face.
Harle's eyes widened, and she tried to hide herself beneath Lynx's cloak. "What iz it, Monsieur?"
Lynx's eyes narrowed. "Don't worry, Harle. This is the Dark Dragon. It seems he was to busy to come in person."
The dragon's image snorted. "The child has no need to worry. You are the one that should worry, Master Lynx."
"And why is that?" Lynx asked calmly.
"I know of your evil plans, and I cannot allow them to occur."
"It matters not what you wish, Dark Dragon. You gave me your word that you would create another Chrono Trigger."
The dragon smiled. "And I shall keep my word. However, it will take time to create such a being. Therefore, I am adding some new stipulations to our deal. First, your firstborn child must drain your life's blood. Then, after your blood has stained the earth for one month, I will complete the Chrono Trigger, and deliver it at a time of my choosing."
"Fool! What good will a Chrono Trigger be to me after I am dead?!"
The dragon snorted again. "That is not my concern, Master Lynx. I will do as I have just told you."
Before Lynx could protest, the dragon faded away, and the stone gargoyle was left in its place.
"Monsieur?" Harle asked quietly after a moment.
Lynx glanced down at her. "What is it, Harle?"
"When I am older, I will kill ze mean dragon for you."
Lynx chuckled and patted her head. "No, my child. That won't be necessary. But I appreciate the offer. There is something else you can do for me, though." He pulled something small and blue out of his cloak and placed it in her hand. "Keep this for me. I think it will be useful to you someday."
Harle brought the object up to her face. It was a lock of hair.
* * * * *
Kid frowned as the image faded back to crimson. "So Serge fought Lynx here, too. And it looks like Lynx wanted Harle's obsession with Serge to start earlier than I first thought."
"You have seen the past," the voice announced. "Now, you must face the future."
There was a slight ripple in the pit, and a hand shot out and wrapped around Kid's neck, pulling her head under the crimson liquid.
Kid struggled until the grip grew weaker, and managed to pull her head out. Still, she could feel the cold fingers digging into her neck, and as the red gradually faded from her vision, she swallowed a gasp of shock.
Through a curtain of familiar blue hair, she could just make out a pair of piercing blue eyes. But not just any blue eyes. They were the same cold, merciless eyes that had been in her worst nightmares. Even Lynx's green eyes came in second to the terror these eyes brought.
They were the same eyes that had nearly broken her heart and taken her life all at once.
The owner of the eyes slowly emerged from the pit, never losing his grip on Kid's neck. He kept walking until her back was to the wall. Then he leaned in close, smiling evilly, and pressed his damp lips to her ear. "Mother," he whispered, a chuckle building in his throat. "So good to see you again."
Kid shuddered as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. Only one phrase kept repeating itself in her head before the world turned black: Dark Serge was back.
Continued in Part 3: A Tale of Two Triggers
