Author's note: 11-20-02 Hello again. I want to thank Novalon publicly for my one and thus far only review. I understand the underwhelming response, as the last chapter doesn't say anything you don't know, but, though I hate to say it, I'm review whore. I get high off them. That's not really the right terminology, but it's close enough.

Anyway, this chapter is all about those questions that fans have about the game; questions to which Squaresoft never thought to have an answer for. I know technically, I should have sprinkled them throughout the story, but from the character's point of view, this is the most logical place to do it. This is really the last time they've all got down time, and I know from personal experience that people (read I) like to ask the big questions when under stress, especially when it had nothing to do with the matter at hand. There are a shitload of historical references if you can spot them. This will continue.

This is my first real chapter and I really need some good criticism. It's my first attempt at something that has scene description, extended dialogue etcetera. I especially need to know where I could be more concise; this chapter is so big I had to break it up into two parts. Any feedback on theory plausibility and correct characterization would be helpful too. Again, I can't get my stuff uploaded properly, and need to know what I'm doing wrong. And what in the hell is a WIP? I thank you for your time, now on with the show…

Eight Months to Save the World

End of Time

Parallel time: October 29th 1000 A.D. 12:14 PM

Lucca was more than a little relieved to finally finish that letter. Wincing as she flexed her right wrist, she considered the merits of purchasing a typewriter. It was a little late for that now; perhaps if she had thought things though before she stated, that little nugget of wisdom could have helped her. As she had done perhaps a hundred times before, Lucca swore next time she would premeditatively plan her actions. Her wrist was in agony, and she rubbed it as her legs straightened onto the cobblestone floor, her thighs thankful they were no longer to be used as a writing surface. She missed desks.

It seemed that apprehension was making her extremely sensitive to the pleasures and pain of the flesh. It seemed rather strange to her that she should just then comprehend how physically strong she was. While she showed only a little muscle mass, the trials of the past eight months had made her as fit as any soldier in Guardia. Somehow, despite the surreal nature of the End of Time, she felt more real, more alive, than she had ever felt. 'It is the fear of death that makes life precious.' Lucca had read that somewhere, perhaps in Cupo, maybe Calvin. Crono would know. Philosophy was not something that usually interested Lucca, but Crono liked it. He never showed it though; to him, philosophy was an interesting, but ultimately useless diversion, akin to the Truce Herald's Sunday crossword puzzle.

That was another thing Lucca missed, newspapers. The last time she read one was, maybe March 12th, right before she sprung Crono out of prison. Then, she'd been terrified. In retrospect, that was still terrifying, but it was a good thing she did it. Otherwise, Crono would have been long dead, and Fritz with him.

Damn, how long had it been since I've had a real conversation with Fritz Seller? Two, maybe two and a half years? Man, oh man, we all used to be so close. Crono, me, Fritz, Elaine, we used to be like slaves on a galley. We were miserable, but we had each other, and then we drifted apart. For God's sake, Fritz didn't even recognize Crono until after he made that "I got 'Free Goodies' at my dad's store" spiel, though that could easily have been the lighting. Remember when Fritz tried to buy off Mrs. Cooper in the fifth grade? We didn't see him again for a month! And then all he had to say was "Never, ever, never ever, try to and persuade a Grammar teacher into changing your grade!" I don't know what was funnier: that he got caught or that he still wouldn't admit that his 'persuasion' was wrong. After all it wasn't bribery or anything!

Lucca couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. Then she was a little concerned that the echo it produced. The End of Time wasn't particularly large, but it had no roof, and the lack thereof created an acoustic environment that caused echoes. Wait, that wasn't right. It had to be the cobblestones. Brown cobblestones formed the floor and a ten-foot wall that encompassed the whole of the place. Above this was an inky black…nothingness. Even Lucca's feline curiosity was quelled at the thought of exploring it. She was afraid that once outside the confines of the End of Time, there'd be no air, no gravity, and she'd simply float away. Anyway, it had to be the cobblestone's material, because without a roof, sound had only five, instead of the normal six, dominions to bounce off of.

Oh, Mrs. Cooper would have had a field day with that sentence, as prepositions are never to be at the end of a sentence. This 'valuable' lesson she had pounded into Lucca by having her write a hundred such sentences on the blackboard everyday for three straight weeks, all the while despairing that if she could not teach a genius proper grammar, how would she ever teach the other twenty-two dolts in the class? Ever since, Lucca has held a grudge against grammarians.

Lucca knew why she had drifted away, though. First it was the Telepod; her father had been toying with the idea for years, but only together could they build the thing. What a masterpiece of science and innovation! An instantaneous matter transporter, why, it could change the world, if not for that one, tinie, tiny, little fact…

Anyway, the other reason was 'Primary Education'. The other P.E. that Lucca so loathed. Lucca knew, her parents knew, everyone knew she could have finished high school when she was in the sixth grade, but Taban Ashtear, being the eccentric genius he was (emphasis on the eccentric), would not hear of his only child being deprived of all the experiences of childhood. In practice, this meant she had to go to school, all twelve years, no skipping…at all. Lucca thought it rather pathetic that a child should say every year that the only Yuletime present she wanted was to be moved up a grade or two. And that last year, that had been a living nightmare. If Crono hadn't been there…

It was better to think of other things, much better. And thoughts of Crono didn't help because as well as being intellectually alert, Lucca was also highly aroused sexually. Not at anyone in particular, but just aware that she was a very heterosexual female in her reproductive prime, that was all. The letter had only reinforced the idea in her head that she and her allies might not succeed, and Lucca was vaguely disappointed she might die without ever knowing a man. Virginity was expected of Guardian youths, male and female, and she had kept custom voluntarily, or at least she wanted to believe that.

Acacian cultures were infamous for their sexual prudishness. Sex was a declaration of love and an intention to marry. Even remarriage was all but taboo, though many nobles openly flaunted these cultural mores. So rare was noble adherence that many were openly shocked when King Nikoli II had passed five years after the death of Queen Aliza without taking another bride. It had given him enormous moral authority in every corner of Guardia.

The promiscuous sexual behavior of the ancient Zealots, on the other hand, had shocked all company on their first visit through that kingdom. "In those days, the beds of Enhasa were used for far more than contemplative sleep," so Sesom wrote in Ages, the first book of the modern Testament. Lucca wondered if this pattern of understatement was recurrent in throughout the book. It was worse than pre-Liaisonist Hellenean civilization. At least in the Hellenean city-states, monogamy was expected in marriage. In Zeal, adultery, fornication, and homosexuality, all mortal sins, had been openly practiced, sometimes simultaneously, though not nearly on the scale the Testament alluded to. But where it was done…

Nonetheless, Lucca could not think of the Zealots as a wicked people anymore than she could think that Ayla had committed the "past sins." Some of the Zealots were evil, but most were not. They were naive, misguided, deliberately lied to, but certainly not deserving of the fate they received. In fact, the whole Ocean Palace debacle had been caused by the team's belief that Zeal hadn't yet become corrupt enough to fall. If the whole of Zeal were judged on the actions of the few, then it seemed even a relatively devout kingdom like Guardia was just a stone's throw away from…

Better not to think of that either. Well, now that school, death, sex, and the destruction of Guardia were out, what else was there? Crono and Prometheus were currently out on a mission of some sort, leaving her the watch, and everyone else was asleep. If she hadn't done it so many times before, Lucca would have tried to imagine what Glenn looked like when he was still human. All she knew was that he was tall and had green hair; he couldn't describe his appearance anymore than that. Instead, she wondered if anyone else felt as though their bodies was straining to feel everything they could in preparation for the end. Or if perhaps that Liaisonism was not the true faith, and one of the supposed "demon pretenders" were actually the true creator. Or if they feared Hell, or Oblivion, and which would be a worse fate?

The shields of rationality that had served her so well before, were falling and being cast aside. That old line, the one where they protest "But I'm too young to die…" it was so corny, yet it was what she wanted to scream. Lucca was not quite sure what she wanted to do with her life in any great detail, but she did not wish for things to end here.

The letter, she could think about the letter! She could see if anything needed to be added in a postscript. So she read, and pondered and thought things she had thought many times before. It calmed her back from hysteria, but there was so much she didn't understand.

Parallel time is interesting concept to say the least. Lucca's brain chewed on the concept like an ill-tempered dog. But damnit, I don't have enough information to let anything go anywhere. I mean, there's no time, such as we know it, here, but events are progressing in each era as we speak. Well, technically, there's no we, and I'm not speaking… Lucca! Don't ramble!

No matter how cynical the people of Truce were about her and her inventions, Lucca was her own toughest critic. Intellectually, she knew that to be true of everyone. Emotionally however, she was terrified that all people were as unforgiving and brutal to her as she was to herself. That half crazed demeanor she tried to put on whenever she was in public only served to hide how timid she actually felt.

Back to the matter at hand, she checked her watch, a nice brass pocket watch her father had given her as a graduation gift. To Lucca, just being rid a primary education forever was gift enough. It was now 12:21 in the afternoon of October 29th in every era. Lucca again wondered about traveling via the Epoch on a February 29th to a non-Leap Year. She had no real idea what would happen then and this frustrated her greatly. She also wondered if it was proper to end the letter with the date in just her era, as it was the same date in five different eras. It didn't really matter, she supposed.

Why'd Belthasar haveta keel over? Why?! Genius enough to build his "Wings of Time" but too much of a fool to leave any schematics behind. 'Course all of us great scientists do stupid stuff from time to time, but God help us if I ever need to do anything other than basic maintenance. And then the Leap Year question! I suppose the Epoch's internal clock would compensate for such an event, but I can't even figure that out!

Lucca knew it was senseless to angry about not understanding technology a thousand years beyond her own and Zealean magi-tech, but she wanted to hit something anyway. Before she did anything rash, Crono and Prometheus walked into the cobblestone courtyard she had arbitrarily designated the Lamp Court. Not wanting the others to see what she had been working on, she quickly put that important letter in its envelope and tucked both into the inside pocket of her jerkin.

Then there was Gaspar. 'Think of me as your guide,' he'd told them on several occasions, but he only told them what they 'needed to know,' in riddles and half-truths, as Lucca has put it so eloquently. This drove her to the brink of insanity; after all, who was he, or anyone else for that matter, to decide what she should or shouldn't know? Lucca was of the firm opinion that everything in the universe could be understood by man, provided enough information was given and in small enough segments. If nothing else, she wanted to know why this place was in the style of the city of Geno, circa 1000, and why he was dressed to match, with his brown suit, polished cane and brown derby. Zealots preferred brightly colored, airy clothes; Gaspar looked like a mustached and aging member of Geno's middle class. But he stood there, in the center of the courtyard, sleeping erect, using the lighted lamppost as support, unwilling to answer.

Lucca noticed that Crono held a large rolled paper in his hand. The man in front of her was quite different from the Crono she knew. That Crono was far from leadership material. In fact, he'd narrowly lost the very unofficial "Least Likely to Succeed in the class of '99" vote at Truce Public High School 3: better known as the Jester's Academy, after the school's sports collective. Despite the name, it had been a good school, academically speaking, preparing its students for secondary education or military service. And most students were lucky; thirty years before, Truce didn't even have public schools.

Lucca's personal mantra during her stay in that purgatory has been 'What the Hell do these kids know?' but never had the truth shown itself more clearly than now. Crono's green eyes radiated purpose; his steps echoed confidence. The man who was walking in was a born leader of men. On December 20th, 999, who would have thought the redhead shifting uncomfortably in his graduation robe would change so much in ten months time? Lucca certainly had seen potential in him, but nothing like this.

Crono unfurled the paper and held it in place as Prometheus tacked it into the wall, using his metal hand as a hammer. It was a black and white rendition of the outside of… Oh Dear God, it's finally happening. Lucca knew this was endgame, the goal they had been working towards since that fateful day in the future.

"Gather 'round, people." Crono spoke firmly, but Lucca knew he was agitated; his idle hands twitched with excitement. Crono rarely talked anymore, ostensibly because it was better to listen and learn than to speak.

The silence was broken, and everyone who had been asleep was now awake and bee lining towards the speaker. One of those six caught Lucca's attention. He was perhaps the most powerful sorcerer the world had ever seen. His long blue hair hung limply from his deathly pale scalp, and his eyes were cruel and indifferent to everything. He was the Magus, the same man who almost destroyed Guardia four centuries before Lucca was even a thought in her parents' heads. Even though he was now an ally of hers, she still struggled to control a hatred that sixteen generations of Guardians knew all too well. Had he not revealed his true identity, she would have killed him long ago.

Once he had been prince Janus, heir to the throne of Zeal. He had been a snotty little brat even then. Afterward, he had grown into murderous animal; hundreds of thousands of Guardians and Mystics had died in a war he had continued for his own arcane plots of revenge. For the sake of his sister Schala, and only because of her, Lucca hadn't sent him to the damnation he so richly deserved.

But then she found he wasn't quite so bad, for a mass murderer. She respected the man's abilities and understood, somewhat, why he'd done what he had done. He had a sort of professional regard to most of the other six. He respected them, and Lucca was sure he liked Crono, after a fashion. They were tools for him to be sure, but no one ever said 'you can't like your tools.'

What concerned Lucca was that her ally might turn violent when their alliance had achieved the collective goal. Everyone else got along, despite some inevitable personality conflicts. Lucca had even seen Ayla, fur clad Neanderthal, and Prometheus, large, shiny, golden hued robot, talking at length when the former had night watch where they had to camp. The Magus, on the other hand, was still a genuine threat. In all likelihood, he had been destined to spend the remainder of his life in his home era, scrapping a living of one kind or another in the post Zeal world, until the group intervened. By allowing him to join them, there was a real possibility he could return to Middle Ages, and start another Mystic War. They had to make sure that didn't happen. Sure, he had turned on the Mystic leadership that ruled in his stead, but that was normal Mystic politics back then. Lucca didn't like it, but perhaps she would have to join with Glenn and kill the wizard once his usefulness had ended. It was the sensible thing to do, but Crono would probably defend the Magus. Crono believed in honor, but then again, so did Glenn. They might be able to convince him, but perhaps the wizard would agree to return to 12,000 B.C. where he certainly hadn't caused any harm before.

The team all came close and sat crossed legged, except for the Zealots, who remained standing. When they were still Crono began. "Okay, according to Gaspar, we've done everything we could do to ready ourselves for the final battle with Lavos. The fated hour awaits us." He paused and seemed to gather his thoughts. "There are two avenues of approach. One…" he pointed to a bucket along the wall, containing the one gate that always went to the exact same moment: May 26th 1999. "…is through that bucket. But we're not doing that. Even if we succeed there, who knows what damage what the 'Planet Devourer' will do." He spit out the title of the otherworldly beast. "The other option is to go through the Black Omen. I think I can speak for everyone here when I say I don't want that floating monstrosity around for a second longer than necessary." Everyone gave a brief nod. "You've all heard Gaspar say the Queen of Zeal is still in there. If that's true, then there's a chance, however small, that there are other survivors of the Ocean Palace disaster." He paused; like everyone else present he had terrible memories of it.

Lucca had been there, the thickest of the thick. July 19th, 12,000 years before Guardia. Mighty Zeal fell, and most of mankind was obliterated. Zeal tapped into Lavos's immense power, then felt his wrath. The Queen was driven mad, magic among humans all but disappeared, and the Gurus and the prince were scattered to the winds of time. The sky fell, the sea rose, and the land was crushed in between. Hey, who knew I could be poetic? But I was there, we all were, and we fought in vain to stop what was meant to be. And we almost didn't make it out… She stopped at that, there was too much she would rather not dredge up.

After the moment passed, Magus asked disinterestedly, "And just whom might we find?"

Crono sighed the way he did when he said something knew was going to sound stupid. "Well, I'm hoping we'll find some surviving Ocean Palace personnel, or advisors." He trailed off, but everyone knew he was hoping against hope, that they'd find Princess Schala. As her kingdom crumbled, she had teleported them out of the Palace, without saving herself. They all owed her dearly.

"So that's why," Crono spoke up again, this time with forced vigor, "we're going to assault the place in 12,000 B.C., unless anyone has any objections." When none where raised, he continued, "The only way to reach the Omen is by the Epoch, which will presents us with the first of many difficulties." He pointed at the picture, "This is a sketch of the top half…" He went on to explain how essentially, the chosen team was going to jump out of the time machine and land on the Omen and make there way to what was obviously an entrance.

"The last one out will throw the switch and send the Epoch back here. With armor and supplies, there's no way we can fit more than three. After that, we'll make our way in, facing only God knows what and God knows how many. With luck, the Omen will retain the Ocean Palace's floor plan but as evil tends to corrupt and twist whatever it touches, that's unlikely. As for the team: I will lead. I have some…unfinished business with the porcupine."

"I will accompany you." Magus didn't volunteer, he imperiously demanded. "It is my right to destroy Lavos, and I need to take of some…family business." No one was about to challenge him. He'd rather kill all of them rather than not be a party to Lavos's destruction.

Add matricide to the list, Lucca thought dryly of Magus's sins.

Crono spoke before anyone else could, "I'd like to remind you that once on the Omen, there's no turning back, no second chances. We will be completely alone, and if we make it through, we'll still have to confront Lavos. Make sure you're up to it."

Lucca wanted to accompany her friend, to make sure history didn't repeat itself. Last time they had gone up against the beast, Crono ended up disintegrated. That started a quest to change history yet again, involving dolls and mountains and funny eggs and a time freeze. The thought of having to do all that again made her nauseous with fatigue.

"I'll go." Nadia said quietly.

Magus snorted incredulously. "You? Of all the weaklings here, you're the most pathetic. You wouldn't last ten minutes in there." No matter what Magus may have truly thought, he had a reputation to maintain. A reputation as a callous bastard.

Nadia stiffened noticeably "Perhaps alone you might have a point. However, you seem to be forgetting that neither of you has any healing spells. And you will be needing those if the Omen is a bad as Crono thinks it is."

Crono briefly raised his eyebrows in consideration. "Good point Marle, we'll be needing those." His voice was even, but his eyes showed fear for the girl's safety. Trying to calm her, Crono put her hand on her shoulder.

Which was of course, had no effect. "And another thing Janus, it is my kingdom that's going to be destroyed if we don't stop Lavos. I'm coming, and if you don't like it, you can go to Hell, because that's the only place you're going without me." Nadia, though slow to show it, could be both headstrong and as imperious as Magus. She would make a fine queen if her brother died without an heir.

Magus knew better than to dispute Crono's decisions. "Fine then, the twerp can go, but do not slow us down!" He glared threatening at the princess. "If you do, well, then we shall see how large a splash you make in the ocean. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must prepare." Magus stormed off to his little niche, muttering under his breath about how Zealean princesses knew how to behave themselves.

"I swear, he's as bad as Alexis." Nadia referred to her older brother, who was presently well outside Guadia's borders, where she claimed she could stand him. Speaking of him was the only time Lucca had ever seen the princess genuinely angry, and the inventor could not help but wonder what kind of man the archduke could be. After all, everything else was sunshine and flowers to Nadia.

It was then the old Crono slipped in for a bit. It was the perfect time to interject a bad, if humorous, one liner. "Oh, I love it when a plan comes together."

To everyone but Lucca, the saying that meant nothing more its face value but it irked the inventor to no end. She thought about responding to it, but decided against it. She'd have to explain Arland, Meridia, the Arland-Meridia War, then the 'plotline' of the really cornball radio serial Crono had just quoted. Four falsely accused Arland Rangers roaming around helping the little man and making harebrain inventions even Dad knows better than to try is not good entertainment. They had argued endlessly over that assertion for years. She got up and walked away a little bit and reflected.

Those days were gone; to Lucca they seemed like another lifetime. Her annoyance faded away; Crono's old self could be annoying sometimes, but it was familiar. He didn't appear so foreign. Little was more familiar about Crono that his love of 'Wholesome all-Arlandian Ultraviolence.' He used to talk about how someday he wanted to travel on horseback in the wastes of western Arland, finding and killing outlaws of every kind, and hauling their carcasses to civilization for bounty.

Back then Crono had been an idiot who wanted to go looking for trouble, so he could make a name for himself. What better place to do it than the one of most violent places on earth? He'd found them both now though.

He seemed so much more mature now, a difference that distinguished his boyish handsome of then from his manly handsome of now. The feral, appetitive part of her mind, which is innate in mankind, fed on her already aroused state, causing her to imagine doing such things she would never speak of in public. She suppressed these lustful thoughts, eventually, on three grounds: 1. Crono was her best friend, a relationship she was not willing to risk with romantic liaisons. 2. He was taken 3. It disturbed her that fundamentally, she was no more civilized that Ayla. It was only education that separated them and while Ayla was a good woman, Lucca wanted to be a good and civilized woman. In truth, she was not sure whether or not she would chose to be the former if she could not be both. Crono would chose good though; he was a strait arrow going down the straight and narrow. He had always been a good man; he was finally a hero.

"You're thinking about all those stupid things I said about being a hero, aren't you?" Lucca hadn't seen Crono come up to her. He was already geared up for the battle. His normal clothes were gone, replaced with Moon Armor, which by the crest on it had once been property of the Zealean government. His wild hair was contained by a Prism Helm, which was painted black to match the armor.

She thought aloud, "Am I that obvious?" She looked into his now piercing eyes.

Crono sighed, "Lucca, we've known each since you were born, and you've been my best friend for twelve years, and after all that time you'd think I'd be able to read you just a little bit. Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I've finally got the good sense to walk away from trouble." He sighed again, "Lotta good it's doing me now." He looked as though he was carrying the whole world on his shoulders, and in a way, he was. There was too much at stake for him to be sensible.

"I know you want to come, so don't deny it. But the fact is, Marle's right. We're gonna need her if we're going to pull through. And like I said, we can't take everyone. We gotta strike hard, and move fast, which means going in small groups." He paused to gather his thoughts again, "Anyway, Lucca, if the Omen isn't gone in six hours, come get us. Hopefully, we'll have cleared a path for you. Take whomever you feel you need. If I don't make it through, make sure you kill him. Above all else, Lavos must die. Understand?"

As Crono was leader of the seven de facto, so Lucca was second in command, and therefore this was to be expected. She wondered if she looked as ill as she felt. "Yeah, I got it. Lucca Ashtear aims to please." Her words felt hollow coming out.

"Remember, six hours." Crono was deathly quiet.

She then hugged him, as hard as her body would allow. She let him go and looked into his eyes. "Come, back, alive. If you do anything stupid this time, we can't bring your ass back." The quiet intensity of her voice was only match by the pleading of her eyes. Lucca felt sorrow as she stood on her toes and kissed Crono on the forehead.

"Oh, come everyone!" Nadia shouted in consternation. "You all look like we're going off to our doom! If we think we're not going to win, we won't! We're going to save the world here and it feels like I'm at a funeral! Well I'm not dead, and I'm not going to die either!" In a huff, she came over to Crono and put her arms around his neck. "Come on Crono, his highness grows impatient." She pointed to Magus, who was looking more annoyed than usual. Leave it to Marle to ruin the mood.

Crono looked at her, "Let him wait. One more second, please." And with that Nadia walked over by Magus. Crono looked at Lucca again and forced a smile. "Hey, I'm glad you were with me, all those years ago. Remember how we used to back each other up, standing up to the schoolyard bullies?"

"Yeah."

"Well, to paraphrase the Duke of Wesley, 'the battle against Lavos was won in the playgrounds of Nede.'"

They both chuckled a little bit. Lucca said, "Yeah. Ours was a short youth, wasn't it? I never understood how they could name that hellish elementary school after the garden paradise."

"'The mind can make a Hell of Heaven or a Heaven of Hell,' thus spoke the Adversary in Lost Paradise."

"You're such a Genoaphille, you know that?"

Crono snorted. "Well, a man has to have a hobby. You can only do so much sword practice before the men in white coats take you to the nice hospital with the padded rooms." He looked over and decided Nadia was growing impatient too. He tipped his helmet, flashed a big smile and said in his best Arlandian twang, "Well, little lady, you just sit right there while I skewer me a varmit." He walked to the waiting wizard and the princess, and all three decked in their armors faded from sight as they continued to the Epoch.

Crono and Nadia had their arms around each other, and this fact did nothing to lift Lucca's spirit. Her old friend was gone, replaced by a hero who almost without trying had wooed the fair princess. She should have felt happy for her two friends, but instead, she felt empty. Crono's eyes had shown concern for Nadia, but none for her. Not in that way. Being the tough cookie she was, Lucca put on a calm face. She walked to the remaining three warriors and addressed them, as they all sat cross-legged in a corner.

"Okay, if Crono doesn't come out in six hours, we're going in after him, and finish the job. Prometheus and Glenn will come with me." There was definitely finality in her tone; she wasn't one to change her mind.

"Why Ayla no go?" The buxom cavewoman asked in her tongue, "Ayla strong, Ayla fight good."

"Ayla," Lucca began, "You're a really good fighter, but we can only go groups of three, and besides that you're too important to the time stream. You see, Prometheus here has been collecting samples of us, hair to be exact. He's been comparing our, our, Prometheus what is that called?"

"Deoxyribonucleic Acid, more commonly known as DNA. After the defeat of Mother Brian, and before leaving the city of Geno, I had several samples analyzed by the still functioning computers at 56281 Jekyll Park Way, registered in June 1988 as Watson-Crick Genetic Diagnostics. These samples were of all those present, Crono, Princess Nadia, the Magus, several mystics and 'Enlightened' Zealots. I compiled them in order to determine if there was a genetic component in determining elemental magic assignment. Though no conclusive link was established, analysis of Mitochondrial Deoxyribonucleic Acid, that is, MtDNA, established a thirty five percent chance that Ayla is in fact, an ancestor of the Princess. Perhaps you would like to conclude, Lucca?"

Lucca blinked, and seemed to come out of a trance. Prometheus was fascinating in both his profuse knowledge of science and technology and his personal growth. She was more than happy to be a passive listener when he spoke, but she had to make sure Ayla understood.

"Oh, yeah. Ayla, that means that your death could cause catastrophic damage to the space-time continuum. I don't expect you to full understand this…" she trailed off, hoping that was enough.

Ayla looked dead at Lucca with a scowl, and proceeded to give her one of the bigger shocks of her life. "Marle is…my daughter, many…generations from my time. If I die, no Marle." Ayla had used personal pronouns for the first time Lucca had known her, and she had spoken in almost perfectly pronounced Guardian. "I…I am…not stupid. I am not…a barbarian. I understand."

Lucca was taken aback, as was Glenn, and it was the latter who spoke first. "Madame Ayla, pray tell us how you came to know how to speak our tongue?"

She crossed her arms. "Prometheus teached me. I told him no talk about it. All you…all of you, think me dumb. But you did dumb thing! Remember…creepy old man by light post cast spell. You understand all speak, all understand your talk. Then old man cast spell on me. You tell king I barbarian from island Siber. I know Barbarian. Barbarian…is bad woman. Fancy Zeal book says I bad woman. Bring Lavos down. I…am not…a…bad woman! I not bad and I not dumb! I learn Guardian so you know I not dumb. I must undo! Ayla must undo!" Her blond hair went everywhere as she shook her head with great force.

She was becoming hysterical. Considering she was the strongest of the humans in the room, this was a precarious situation. Though Lucca desperately wished she hadn't lost her Zonker-38, she knew she had to calm the woman before anyone got hurt. She stood up.

"Hey!" Lucca put her hands up defensively. "No one here thinks you're bad! And does anyone here think Ayla's dumb? Huh?" She looked around for effect "See, no one! We just told the king that so we could explain you without telling him the truth. The mission and all that." Lucca was perturbed by the fact she was not perturbed about lying to her liege, if such a thing is possible.

What was unspoken, of course, was that if anyone had said they though her unintelligent, Ayla would have, as she so charmingly put it, 'make head go boom!' Though Ayla had not once risen, she seemed to slump further into the wall than seemed possible. She looked into space, emotionally exhausted.

All of them waited to see what she would do, and when it looked like she was going to speak, they decided to let her in total. Obviously, she spoke Guardian with difficulty, and so returned to her native language, "All you there. Red star appear in daytime, all knew it bad sign. But no shaman come to Ayla and say 'Great One angry. Red Star His warning. Great One make human, Great One make Reptite, now you try and kill each other. Stop war with Azala, or Great One bring brutal punishment.' No one tell Ayla that.

"Ayla no know what red star mean. Even if Azala know, he no make peace. He hate humans, all humans. Hanno, Ayala's father, explore other places over water, leave mother as chief. Try to find others to help us when Azala still young. Hanno come back, he tell us it all same. Reptite kill human, human kill reptite, or reptite kill reptite and human kill human. No one help Ioka, all busy hating others. But we fight. Stop fight only when dead. But Ayla no hate reptites."

Ayla's posture straightened, "Then they burn Laruba! Laruba no want fight. They hide, and still Reptites hunt them. They take Kino too. That make Ayla mad! Ayla go to Tyrano Lair with you, get Larubans, get Kino. Ayla like Kino best, all know that. But Ayla war-chief. War chief must be strong, not be fat and slow with baby. Eight summers come, eight summers go, and Ayla still strongest, still war chief. Hope one day war stop, have family with Kino. You remember, reptite, they talk, plan to eat Kino. They try take him from me! Take Ayla's hope, Ayla's future. Then Ayla hate them. Ayla want kill Azala, and all reptites. Ayla say to Kino, 'Put end to this!' And so it done. Ayla last to give into hate. Big Fire come from sky, put end to it for Ayla. Great One grant Ayla's wish. All Azala's reptites, dead, scattered. Then Ayla no want all dead, only want peace. Too late. Ioka, whole world, suffer…how Azala say, long cruel ice age. All humans suffer, all reptites die, because Ayla hate." She sighed, and slumped again.

Ever since the events at Arris, Lucca had been curious as to how Lavos had gotten its name. Lavos was a phrase in Ayla's language. "La mean big, Vos mean fire" That is what Ayla had told them as the creature plummeted to earth like a gigantic meteor in the distant past, buying the Tyrano Lair, for millennia to come. At least Lucca finally had an answer as to her question.

When it seemed that Ayla had calmed some, Prometheus said, "Madam Ayla, what you said, while true, is incomplete. If the Lost Testaments are indeed true, then it was not your hatred alone that caused Lavos' arrival…"

"Ayla know, Prometheus say Ayla is straw that broke camel's back. Ayla understand, cannot image camel though." She sighed. "Still, Ayla straw. Ayla bring Lavos, so Ayla must bring death to Lavos. It only way, but all you say no. How Ayla go back to Kino then, to Ioka?"

"Come on Ayla, it wasn't your fault! Remember right before we fought Azala and that Black Tyrano of his? I didn't understand what he said at the time: 'Though it may be our fate to perish, but we will not simply this world over to you' or something like that. I think he knew, I think he knew and didn't care. Azala sealed his people's fate, not you. And Ioka will survive no matter what," Lucca pointed out. She took the cavewoman's hand and clasped them between her own. She looked right into Ayla's eyes. "Don't live under the guilt of something you couldn't control. I know what that's like and it doesn't do a thing."

Ayla looked right back at her and took away her hands, "Lucca, you like Kino. Strong here…" she pointed to her head, "…but dummy here." She pointed at her heart. "Even if what you say true, Ayla, no leave, no run away. All help Ayla, so Ayla help all." The declaration was made with her characteristic resolve, but without the confidence.

"No, you don't have to leave; you're free to stay. But we'll be going in case something happens." Lucca pointed at herself, then the frog-man and then the robot. Her decision stood. She crossed her arms to signal this. "Your too important."

Ayla nodded. "Okay, Ayla understand. But if Lucca and rest not win, Ayla kill bad Queen and Lavos herself. Ayla must undo, Ayla will undo." Her decision stood, though both knew that scenario was suicidal. Lucca would simply have to triumph if Crono failed.

With the conflict resolved, Glenn spoke and brought them back to the matter at hand and to the cold reality none of them wanted to face. "Should the lad fail, it will be most difficult to triumph over such a beast. The lad hath the best of our equipment and supplies with him."

"We shall make do then." Lucca finished the discussion. Trying to lighten the mood somewhat, she turned to Prometheus, "I assume that you're responsible for that sketch over there," She pointed towards the paper still tacked to the wall. "Care to enlighten us as to how you got such a good look?"

Prometheus said, "Crono took me to do some aerial reconnaissance. We came as close to the Black Omen as possible, and then Crono flew the Epoch upside-down so that I could see our target clearly through the canopy. I did get a very precise picture of the place, but Crono insisted that we over fly it again, and again, and again. It was most exhilarating." Due to the fact that his voice was synthesized, Prometheus has almost no inflection, but the insinuation that Crono had been joyriding was painfully obvious.

"I'd say that sounds like him." Lucca's voice had a slight chuckle in it. She could just imagine Crono had flown upside down until the blood went to his head and almost passed out. It was just like him. An awkward silence followed.

Prometheus said, "I should check the remaining equipment," then turned and walked towards the alcove where the miscellaneous equipment they had gathered in their adventures laid mostly in a heap. They were the only ones who came here so it was unlikely they had to worry about thieves. Ayla, it seemed, thought it a good idea to return to her slumber, and was asleep almost before her head came to rest against her arm.

Without a word Glenn pulled out his old weather-beaten copy of the Testament, and began to read. Gaspar's eyes glazed over, and he drifted off to sleep, fully erect. Lucca wondered first how he could sleep like that and second what could possibly make him so tired; he seemed to nap eternally, only to be woken by the team.

Then Glenn said, "Lucca, can thee come here for but a moment?" Lucca obliged him, and sat cross-legged beside him. He closed the book.

"What's up Fog-man?" She tried to sound and look unworried and failed at both.

"Please, milady, donna call me that. I shared mine name with thee; please use it." He paused, seeming to collect his thoughts. After a moment, he said, "You needn't worry, Lucca. Sir Crono shall succeed." There was no doubt in his voice. It was simply an assertion of fact.

Lucca responded, "Thanks for the vote of confidence. Crono would appreciate that."

With slight exasperation, Glenn responded, "To have such a majestic mind, and yet to be so addlebrained." Lucca was taken aback, but Glenn finished his thought "It is divine providence that he should do so. He canna fail."

If the last statement took her aback, then the latest alarmed her outright. "G, Glenn, think about what you're saying…"

Glenn seemed surprised at her reaction, then smiled as much as frog lips would allow. "Four hundred years thenceforth mine own time, and suggesting divine providence shall still be tantamount to blasphemy." He chuckled slightly, with an undeniable likeness to a croak.

It seemed so utterly wrong. Lucca, the scientist, should be making the quasi-heretical remarks, not the noble knight of yesteryear. "'Did not our Lord give thee free will? Did he not make thee free? Claim not the hand of God in the affairs of men, lest He take up with thine enemies to spite thee. The Lord moves upon the world of man, but only at His choosing. The Lord is master of all, not like a dog that comes obediently when summoned. Invoke his name, and risk his wrath,' Horatio 4:7 through 9. We learn that in Sunday school. You don't attribute things to God because man doesn't know His will."

Glenn chuckled some more, "I canna help but think thee dense."

Now that was something Lucca did not like. She spoke civilly, but just barely, "Hey man, I think you'd better take that back."

Glenn put up his hands in mock defense. "Relax, my lady, and let us parley then." After Lucca grudgingly nodded her head, Glenn continued, "Thee said thyself, that the Gates are not the work of Lavos."

"True."

"Thee also spoketh of the gate that defied all precedent in the Great Forrest."

"Yeah."

"That gate taketh thee from the center of the isle Porria to the isle Obachi, wherein thee hath residence, and to the very night whence thine mother had been destined to be crippled, in front of thine eyes as a wee lass."

Lucca thought about this, as she had before. "So I got to save Mom's legs, how does that prove divine intervention?"

At this, Glenn clasped his gloved hands over his face and sighed in utter exasperation. "This is why the Lord maketh miracles so rarely. Mortal men then become accustomed to them." He removed his hands and looked at Lucca with those bulging eyes that still creeped her out "I canna think of an act more benevolent than the opportunity to right our pasts. Such mercy, I think, could only be bestowed by Him who reigns above."

"Well, if that was true, why haven't you been given the chance to save Cyrus? I mean, why me, and not you?"

"Because those who are called by the Lord are given what they desire most. The Liaison, Heyzeus Yule, wanted a reversal of the moral decay in the Vayan Empire, for Clovis, the rule of Caroline, for Arthur, the union of Camelot, for Constance, the rule of Vay. And so it was with George the Guardian. Remember, he marched his Guards from Porre knowing they could never return to Veyan lands except in chains…"

Lucca interrupted him, "Yeah, I remember this story. I believe St. Luc, my namesake if you couldn't guess, put it like this, 'More than anything, that most noble of Guardians expressed the desire for the preservation of the kingdom that he had founded, that his Vayan Guards should not squabble with the Acacian tribes of Zenan, that both his Truces should not be undone.' Clever pun, I might add. So he turned and told Luc that if his forces defeated the legions of Julius Octavius, he would convert the whole kingdom to Liaisonism. Of course, our troops being 'vicious and manly Acacians' and being led by former Guards, and Guards being the elite of the Vayan armies, the legions were crushed at Kurova, just north of the Zenan straights. And so Guardia became a Liaisonist nation the following day in A.D 28. So what's your point? You think that Gate was God's way of paying me?"

Glenn's mouth turned into something that resembled an approving smile, "Mercenaries and volunteers always hath gold in their pockets before the battle commences. In this quest, we have all gotten our desires. Your mother stands on her own feet. I hath made mine kingdom, and mine queen, safe from the Magus and ultimately, my desire to see Cyrus restored is not so great in comparison. Prometheus hath discovered his own soul, whatever it constitutes. By rendering us assistance, Ayla redeems her name, though it may be some time before she recognizes it. The Magus wisheth nothing more than to see Lavos die. Crono, like Cyrus, hath shown himself a most noble hero, as was his wish in childhood, and the princess, well, I no not what her desire be, but I suspect it is the love of a good man, and that man be Crono."

Glenn's words hurt Lucca far more than they should have. Why did they feel like a knife in her gut? There was no logical reason. She kept her voice steady as she asked, "Do you really think so?"

Glenn shrugged, "Perhaps it was the reconciliation with her father that was her desire. Lady Marle is hardly a hateful woman, and only the hateful seek not resolution when they bicker with kin. Tis a shame that it took a usurping Mystic to bring it about, but I suppose, as thee would say, 'It's all good.'"

Again, Lucca's guts reacted in ways her mind could not understand. It was like the knife had been pulled out and a tonic sprinkled on the gut wound, healing it without so much as a scar.

Lucca looked down in thought. She finally understood Glenn's reasoning, though she was in doubt, partly because of her willfulness that it wasn't the case. In the Liaisonist tradition, all the examples he gave were true, but only Constance and Clovis had lived much beyond their 'service' in converting the nations. Heyzeus Yule had been crucified, and it took 315 years before Vay, under Constance, would become Liaisonist. Arthur had killed and been killed by his bastard son, and King George I had died from his wounds within a week of Kurova. God delivered on His end, but no more. Those men all got what they wanted, but they could still die. Lucca would have considered it a rather cruel joke if her comrades should receive what they wanted, but not live to enjoy them.

"You make sense, noble sir. And if true, this is great. If God is on our side, who can stand against us, right?" Lucca sounded hopeful, though she wished God was less austere, and would guarantee their survival as well as their success.

"I am glad I hath convinced you." He yawned, which considering the size of his mouth, almost made Lucca sick. "I shall retire, and make ready for battle should the need arise. I hope in my slumber Crono and Marle shall return alive and well, as I too count them among my friends. Unless you need anything more, I take my leave."

"No, go ahead, sleep tight." Lucca said evenly. She was kind of tired as well. She remembered reading that soldiers leaned to sleep whenever and in whatever position they could, and this fact seemed to bear out with her group. After a few minutes, Glenn was asleep, and because Prometheus was out of sight, Lucca was effectively alone for a few minutes, and her eyelids grew heavy.

"Young lady, might I have a moment of your time?" Gaspar spoke, jarring Lucca's nerves. After she had confirmed that her eyelids had not frozen in the bulging position, she went over too him.

"You wanted to talk to me?" she asked.

He did not look directly at her, as was his custom of never looking at anyone directly. He never turned or lifted his head, which Lucca found curious. "Why, yes. I wanted to ask you if you were no longer a fugitive from justice."

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, it seems to me that you will have to tell your king the truth about what you've been doing. Even though you and Crono did save the kingdom by exposing Yarka XIII, you both have multiple capital offense charges against you, unless your king has pardoned both of you."

"That's all true, so what's your point?"

"My point, is that in his position, I would be reluctant to believe such a fantastic story, such as the one you will have to tell. If I were in your shoes, I would gather proof that I was telling the truth."

It hit her like a ton of bricks. "Oh, crap! You're right! Okay, what would be convincing proof?"

"Well, in Zeal, the best proof was testimonial. I'd get some of the people you've helped and have them speak on my behalf to the king. Of course, you're free to do whatever you like. It's simply my suggestion."

Lucca quickly thought about it and decided that Gaspar was right. If anyone else had suggested it, she would have immediately accepted, but she did not trust Gaspar, always suspecting he had an ulterior motive of some kind.

"No, I like it. What's the catch?"

"The 'catch,' is that the future you are trying to prevent is in peril. If Crono succeeds, it will be erased along with someone there who can help you…"

"Doan?"

"Very astute of you. And before you ask, the 'Wings of Time' is back in the docking port. I would advise against delay."

"Thanks. Say, why are you helping us? What do you get out of this?" Lucca could not help but ask; she wanted to know for quite some time.

He politely reproached her, "So suspicious. Don't you think I care if that thing destroys the world? Just because my people suffered horrendously doesn't mean I'm indifferent towards the perils of future generations. If you and your friends can destroy Lavos, it shall be payment enough for me."

Lucca, despite her healthy cynicism of humanity, believed him. "Oh, uh okay. We won't let you down! But, uh I better go and get Doan. I'll just, uh, drop him off at my house and come back," She said while walking towards the Epoch. She felt a bit sheepish; why shouldn't she trust Gaspar? After all, he had never lied to them before.

She walked down the stairs to the port, where indeed, the Epoch stood. The canopy was open, so she climbed into the cockpit and powered up the time and flight circuits. She didn't engage, but just slouched back into the chair, then turned and looked in the back seat. It was supposed to hold two, but sometimes, they had crammed in three. On most of these last missions, she'd flown transport, shuttling the whole team from the End of Time to wherever they were going. She didn't even know one could develop nostalgia so fast. A few days ago everything felt safe; the kind of safe that comes at the center of a typhoon, but safe nonetheless.

It took us eight months to save the world. Or a least try to. It's like we've taken an eight month holiday from reality, so what's going to happen when this whole thing is over? Shit, eight months ago, I knew exactly what I was gonna do: present Telepod; win Noble Prize in Physics with Dad, go to whatever top university I wanted. 'Why should we admit you here, Miss Ashtear?' 'I got a Noble Prize sucka!' Hee hee. Can't do that know though, it would be unethical. How was I supposed to know that?

What about Prometheus? If he's not in the new future, he's gone. But then again, if he's not, who will we meet after the jailbreak? Or rather who did we meet after the jailbreak in the new timeline? Anyway, using Marle's example, when you change history and stay in a past time, it takes awhile for the effect to erase you from existence. It took two days in 600 A.D. before she was erased, more or less, which leaves us with slightly more than 200 years per day. So if Prometheus is going to get erased, but stays in 1000 A.D. with a thirteen hundred year discrepancy, it's going to take…a little less than six and a half days before it happens. Course, on the other hand, 65 mil divided by 200 plus ten and a half is…gimme a sec…325,010 and one half days or…little less than a thousand years. Damn him, why won't he go there? He's going to go back to the future no matter what, stupid, stubborn, metalhead. I can't change his mind, and I don't know what I'm gonna do! "The wise man is the one who knows he truly knows nothing." I hate Sewcrates. Oh well, no rest for the weary.

Lucca closed the canopy and engaged the engines. At least she could get the Black Omen off her mind for a while. After all, idle hands are the Adversary's playground and the idle mind makes for a worrywart…