~***~

Long ago in a distant land, I, Aku, the shape-shifting master of darkness, unleashed an unspeakable evil. But a foolish samurai warrior, wielding a magic sword, stepped forth to oppose me.

Before the final blow was struck, I tore open a portal in time, and flung him into the future, where my evil is law.

Now, the fool seeks to return to the past, and undo the future that is Aku.

~***~

Prologue: Turning Leaves

It was a cool, crisp day, at the time of year when the flame of fall is catching, when the red and yellow and brown and orange are starting to appear in the green. On a wooded mountainside above a forested valley, a man was walking down a dirt path. He wore, from the top down, a wide-brimmed straw hat, a white robe and a pair of wooden sandals. A long, slim sword with a slightly curved blade was sheathed at his hip.  The man held his hands together, tucked into his sleeves, keeping his eyes on the path before him so as to place his feet more surely. He took no notice of the first falling leaves, spinning like dancers in the breeze around him, until a single red leaf blew across his path.

He reached out and snatched the leaf with a suden movement, then examined it carefully – it was a maple leaf, all bright crimson but for a patch of green at its heart. For some reason it gave him a sense of déjà vu. The man held it before him, peered at it, until the familiar feeling blossomed into memory.

~***~

The little boy is fascinated by the red leaf. He holds it up to the sunlight and sees the little veins in it. There are many other leaves on the ground. Others are falling from the branches, catching in his hair and clothes.

He picks up a yellow leaf, so he has one leaf in each hand, and runs around with his arms outstretched, imitating the cry of a falcon. He dives into a great pile of leaves and, laughing, emerges from them, covered in red and yellow and orange.

It gives him an idea.

He starts picking up the brightest leaves he can find. He stuffs them into his sash, into the folds of his clothes, into his sleeves, until he is a riot of bright colors. He picks up some more and holds them in front of his face, then runs to his mother.

She is sitting on a cushion on a grassy knoll, tuning her shamisen. She looks up as her son charges up to her, then claps her hands to her cheeks in mock horror. Her son throws the leaves in all directions while letting forth a roar as fearsome as a four-year-old can manage. His mother emits a little shriek, her eyes sparkling with mirth. The boy roars again and jumps into her arms, and they both collapse in a fit of giggles.

~***~

Jack held the leaf up to the sun, contemplating the tiny patch of green nestled at its heart. The wind tugged at it – he let it go, to ride the breeze in whichever direction it was heading. He surveyed the valley below him, a tapestry of cool green and flame colors, with a river wending its way through like a sapphire ribbon. Beyond, the trees petered out into rocky foothills which continued for a few miles before rising into mountains again. Birds flew overhead, and leaves danced everywhere. A perfect landscape for a painted screen. Jack stood and sighed, taking some time to contemplate the view.

Suddenly, from somewhere above and behind him, there was a loud boom that shook the trees and frightened birds from the branches. In a single movement, Jack drew his sword and leapt into the forest by the side of the path. Then he looked up and saw the source of the noise.

A shining white lozenge, wreathed in flame, passed overhead at a ridiculous speed, curving gradually towards the ground. He ran back out to the road so as to see where it was heading. The bright thing skimmed the tops of the trees in the valley some miles ahead, then disappeared from view – but he could see smoke rising up from where it had landed.

Sheathing his sword, Jack continued his descent, going a little faster this time. He did not know what that thing was, but his instincts told him that he ought to take an interest in it. He would probably be able to reach it by sunset.

~***~

The Epoch emitted small pinging noises as its hull cooled. After ploughing a rather long and wide furrow into the ground, it had come up against a large rock and was now more on its side than on its belly. Coils of smoke rose up from the ground around it. Flames flickered in the branches of some of the trees behind the ship but, fortunately, they were dying down.

The canopy opened, and Crono was the first to hop out onto the ground. Marle followed him, coughing at the smoke, then Lucca joined them.

"Nice landing, Lucca," Marle remarked, looking at the ship. "When are we?"

Lucca pulled a small sensor device off her belt and began moving it back and forth, looking for information. The machine emitted little beeps as it worked.

"I don't know. We had a malfunction in the middle of the jump, so I don't think we're at one of Epoch's set times. We're somewhere in between 1000 A.D. and 2300. That's all I can tell you."

Crono looked at the Epoch, and at the embarrassingly long swath of destruction that it had left in its path. "Didn't even scratch the paint," he observed, "But we did a number on the trees. How fast were we going?"

"Way over the local speed limit, probably," Marle said.

~***~

In his citadel of flames, Aku watched the three newcomers as they climbed onto the rock and looked at their surroundings. Their arrival had been rather difficult to miss.

The red-haired one, the boy, was wearing a sword at his side. With a focus of will, Aku expanded the image so that he could take a closer look.

His eyes widened. It was a katana, no doubt about it.

"Another samurai!" he growled. "But this one is only a boy. He will be easily dealt with…"