Chrono Trigger - Threads of Destiny
Chapter 4: To Never Again Be a Hero
600 A.D.
The chill winds of the Denadoro mountains were a welcome sensation for the three warriors, they had spent the last two days hiding and traveling at night while eluding Mystic scouts, but even in the dark of the night there seemed to be no lack of heat. Glenn had spoken to the two travelers of Magus' apparent weather control upon the lands he held. Magus had purposefully caused drought and famine, taking the supplies of the towns for his army, according to the Guardian spies. Crono and Robo had wisely kept their mouths shut, not wanting to upset the frog with comments and questions that he was not prepared to cope with, memory-drained as he was.
"Less than a nights travel 'till we reach yon mountain," the frog croaked, "Methinks now would be a most appropriate time for you to explain your plan for our reaching the top."
Crono coughed, "Well...I guess we're just going to climb up and retrieve the Masamune."
Glenn stared incredulously at the spiky-haired youth, "You must be joking! What of Magus' scouts! Surely he must have sent out troops to cover the area, knowing of our destination!"
Robo shook his head, "Magus has not yet returned to his army, he currently is still missing. Flea and Slash and his other generals are not sending out scouts, those are all deserters we've been avoiding."
Glenn refused to believe it, "They know what would happen to them should Magus return! His wrath would most likely consume them and their families!"
"Most likely they are simply sick of fighting, and sick of dying. After our last assault they must be feeling the danger, and without Magus to defend them, they still fear the possibility of others among the Guardian troops who may use magic against them."
Although the armored-one's argument made sense, Glenn still was having trouble sorting it out. "Magus was ne'er a bad general, he always left orders and power with who and whom he saw fit and proper. He was always looked up to and respected, and although he never had a great love of the Mystics, he did seem to prefer them as company. If what you say is true...Magus has truly changed, he seems to no longer care of his armies' opinion, as if he was accustomed to blind obedience and unquestioning loyalty..."
Crono looked speculative for a moment, but shook his head and pointed to the mountain, "That's our goal for now, too much thinking and talking is a bad habit you know."
Robo laughed, "Always a man of few words and fewer thoughts."
Crono winked.
***
The mountain passes were no different than Crono remembered them, though the grass seemed a bit less green and the water not quite as clear. Numerous monsters and animals still made this peaceful land their home; goblins slept beneath trees while Freelancers sat in groups, squawking and sharpening their blades.
The three would-be hero's warily watched the antics of Mount Denadoro's inhabitants behind an out-cropping of boulders near the mountains foot. Crono nodded his head slowly towards the bird; Glenn's eyes narrowed as he started to slide his sword from his sheath. Robo's metal hand raised and stalled the two fighters, he leaned forward and whispered in near inaudible tones.
"If Magus is really waiting for us, the most logical course of action would be to avoid any and all fights possible to keep him from learning of our arrival," he whispered.
"How dost though plan to sneak past yon fiends!?" the frog croaked softly, "T'would require crossing that field, which could be no more open to their scrutiny!"
Robo turned to Crono, who sighed and nodded to Glenn.
"Mehopes you have an idea," the frog sighed, "For I see no way around it."
"Actually, you're going to get us across, my dear frog," the robot beeped.
***
His sword was already quite sharp, but Boddie's sharpening was a never-ending task; he and the other Freelancer's joy of the feel of stone on metal was as entrancing as a drug, as was the story swapping that made the time more pleasant. It was rather upsetting that no one came to the mountains anymore, he and his brethren were growing quite bored, no longer finding any fun in attacking the worthless goblins.
Boddie sighed, they wouldn't leave the mountain for sport, and sport wouldn't come to the mountains...the life of a Freelancer was one tough decision after another.
A crashing in the bushes across the clearing caught the immediate attention of each lancer. Silence ruled the moment. Suddenly a pair of Guardian knights came forth, looking worn out and haggard. They tried to make a mad dash for the only easy way off the mountain, the small, easily guarded entrance.
With a chorus squawk, the entire group of Freelancers rushed the terror stricken knights...Finally, Boddie though, some prey!!!
***
"Knights?!" whispered Robo harshly, "What are they doing here!"
"Must be the warriors sent to retrieve the Masamune..." Glenn said, "I fear I am honor bound to aid them, though it go against our former plan."
Crono nodded as did the metallic warrior, and the frog felt a rush of relief; he'd not really wanted to ruin their chances for the Masamune by his rash behavior, hence alienating them.
As one the group of fighters dashed forth from the rocks, rushing to the defense of the defending Knights. The Freelancers had just reached the two Knights, barely even able to defend themselves from the Lancer's onslaught.
We'll never make it in time! thought Frog, They're too worn to hold out even a moment!
Crono had apparently decided the same thing, stretching for his hand and sending several bolts of lightning into the middle of the Lancers, sending several flying and the others squawking from backlash and surprise. The lightning calling the Lancer's attention to the real threat, they forgot about the Knights and recklessly rushed the trio.
Glenn had barely time to pull his sword from his sheath before three Lancer's assaulted him, swinging their curved blades like extensions of their arms. Two of the blade he managed to dodge, and the third he took on the side of his own. Using the momentum of his opponents blade upon his own, he swung the blade in a wide arc downward and around, gaining speed and strength as he round-housed his sword. Before the others could get their blades up, Frog's sword managed to slice one across the chest, send the other flying backwards as the last lost his blade.
Without a seconds pause, Glenn jumped forward, kicking the unarmed one in the stomach while trying to swing his blade around to finish off the second Lancer. The kicked Lancer fell to it's face, coughing and choking; the second one recovered and had just started forward in time to meet and barely turn Glenn's blade from his neck.
Off guard, the Lancer tried to meet and turn Glenn's second blow...
Not quite; Glenn's gleaming metal bashed aside the smaller curved blade and bit into the shoulder of the Freelancer with a sickening sound. The bird cried out and fell back, clutching at it's shoulder.
Glenn jumped back, his sword at the ready and waiting for the next opponent. He shouldn't have bothered. Robo was surrounded by four unconscious Lancer's, and Crono was surrounded by several unconscious and several charred looking bodies. The two Knights stared mindlessly, quaking with fear of something unimaginable, not even seeing their three saviors.
As soon as Glenn moved towards them, however, the two suddenly seemed to awaken. A look of pure terror crossed their faces, and with a scream of mighty proportions, the two ran off and away from the mountain too fast for the three to react or give chase.
"Methinks we should be more careful from here on," said Glenn, "I think we would not relish an ambush by whatever scared those poor men."
Robo and Crono nodded their agreement, both wondering what could have made the battle hardened Knights lose their sanity.
The paths were narrow, but surprisingly empty. The group started up the steeper parts of the hill and the cliff, ears and eyes searching, ready for everything except what they found.
Dead bodies. Dozens of Freelancers and goblin corpses, native birds and animals. Their corpses, however, were old, and the lack of blood on the ground proved this not to be their place of death. Someone had been piling the bodies here...as a warning.
Robo beeped, "I see...this is like a refuse pile, someone has been tossing the bodies over the side of that cliff," Robo pointed up, "and they've been collecting here."
"That cliff..." murmured Glenn, "Is that not the entrance before the cave of the Masamune?"
Robo nodded calmly, "Yes, my memory details the maps exactly, and whoever has been disposing of these corpses is obviously waiting for us there."
Crono's eyes narrowed grimly, "Then we shouldn't keep our host waiting."
2300 A.D.
Gaspar awoke to a rather unpleasant smell; it was a smell he'd never directly encountered before, and from what little experience he now had, not one he'd be likely to revisit with any speed. The last time he'd smelled this was upon the coming of the Travelers after their adventures through the sewers and their travel via the Wings of Time to his island.
His mind still reeling from the shock of time travel and the backlash of the dark one's energy wave, it took Gaspar a moment to remember the details of his escape...his and Spekkio's.
Looking around desperately, Gaspar spotted the red form lying a half-dozen feet away. The form didn't move.
"Spekkio!" Gaspar gasped, crawling over to the inert form, "Hey! Spekkio! Wake up!"
Coughing, the red form sat up slowly, only to fall right back on it's back again, "Gas...par? I don't have much longer."
"Hold on, old friend," Gaspar growled, "You can't go dying on me yet!"
"....im don't le...way!" came muffled voices from several tunnels down.
Gaspar turned towards the voices just in time to get thrown to the ground by a large blur. With a painful thud Gaspar crashed to the ground, his ears ringing. A muffled curse proved he was not the only one to hit the dirt.
Gaspar struggled to his feet slowly, trying to find the person who'd knocked him down. Using a slight touch of magic to enhance his vision, Gaspar was able to make out the vague form of a younger man, struggling to get to his feet while scanning the darkness around him.
His eyes centered on Gaspar and a wave of fear and anger surrounded the boy as he started to gather a surge of wild magic. Gaspar barely had time to cry out and erect a barrier before the force crashed against him. The blast was strong and Gaspar was totally worn thin, his shields couldn't have held the magic for long. Before they cracked, however, the boy pulled his force; the aura surrounding him softened slightly.
Before Gaspar could say anything the boy shifted and make a hushing motion. A moment later, a group of men treaded towards their tunnel. Gaspar made no sound, the boy was utterly still, and Spekkio was much too quiet for Gaspar's comfort. The group walked closer, flashing their lights around the tunnel, Gaspar made a desperate gamble and formed a barrier of light bending around their small group, making their small area look just like more empty tunnel.
The men flashed their lights down the tunnel, then decided on another route and headed down the right tunnel, murmuring under their breath.
As soon as the men were out of hearing Gaspar dashed to Spekkio's side.
"B...oy," Spekkio gasped, "Come here...for a moment..."
The tone in Spekkio's dying voice brooked no hesitation nor disobedience, and the boy stumbled to his side, favoring his left foot.
"Wh..what are you?" the boy stammered.
"Don't...worry," the First said, "You'll understand in a second."
Spekkio's hand raised up and touched the boys forehead, and Gaspar felt a slight surge of power. After a moment of quiet Gaspar got comfortable and waited for the mind contact to finish. The oppressive quiet of the sewers was pressing in on the old guru, his body and mind worn out and his nerves stressed to the max; the old man started to doze off, losing his hopeless battle against the waves of sleep.
***
Rune's mind seemed to lapse into it's first peace in years, ever since the day...
Don't worry about that now, came the though of another, you'll just get yourself more wrapped up in the stress and tension.
Who are you? Rune projected the thought aloud into the void of his mind.
Ack! No need to shout, young one, I'm not deaf you know.
Sorry...I don't understand anything yet, Rune thought.
That's because it's beyond rare for someone in this time to actually be born with the innate ability to forge the forces of nature, the other though back calmly.
You understand my powers? came the boy's incredulous reply.
Where I come from, powers such as your and mine are quite common place.
I would like to go to that land. Here everyone wants to find me and learn what makes me able to use these powers, Rune thought angrily, they want to turn me into a guinea pig for the greater good I suppose.
I brought you here to two reasons, Rune, came the other's reply, One is because you needed a base instruction in how to use your 'magic'. Without this base knowledge you would be like a leaf trying to stay above the waters of rapids.
And the other? Rune asked back, curious.
I am dying, came the other's reply, I was not supposed to die as of yet. To put it quite simply, what your people now have legends about, things like goblins and trolls and the like are real in my time, they are called Mystics.
So monsters exist? And you're from another time? Rune asked skeptically.
Yes, all stories that last that long have at least a grain of truth to them. Since my time here is limited, let me be brief. The Mystics were born of the planet's energy, long before humans even walked the lands. The original Mystics had no need of sexes or mating to create young, we were born of the planet. It took long for us to adapt, however, and soon only a handful of those who were born of the planet were still alive.
More and more that number diminished, until only the very first of the first was left alive, knowledge and power like no other among the Mystics belonged to him, for in being the first he'd seen creation itself. In any case, that First Mystic is me. I was not fated to die as I am now, but it's too late, finished the voice.
So what do you want me to do? Rune asked.
This is where you must make a difficult decision, started the voice.
***
Gaspar awoke suddenly to a great feeling of danger. Before he could truly react, however, he heard a muffled grunt followed by someone exclaiming something in a whisper. Only then did he realize their proximity, as several others turned their attention to the old man at their feet. The one closest to Gaspar looked right into his eyes, the guru's own surprise and wariness mirrored in the man's eyes.
Gaspar made the worst choice possible for the delicate situation; he tried to cast a spell. Before the shield spell could even be started, the man panicked and bashed Gaspar forcefully in the side of his head. The guru fell back, his vision starting to fade away as it had so many times this fateful day.
***
Jonnate looked for a moment at the old man he'd just knocked out, wondering if he was right in assuming the geezer was starting a spell.
"Nice move Jon," one of his partners said, "I wouldn't wanna get zapped by whatever these Bogies can pull off!"
"Cap'n, this is the same boy...and this other thing feels pretty real, looks like it's almost dead too!" said one of his other men.
Jonnate was proud of his rag-tag group of hunters. After their initial surprise, finding the boy locked in some form of stasis next to some goofy looking goblin from their worst nightmares, the men had turned back into the pro's they were trained to be. Quickly blindfolding and tying up the geezer, then doing the same to the boy, they'd managed to secure the area with a surprising efficiency.
"Found it!" one of the men exclaimed, digging something out of the boys shirt with a pair of tongs. The small piece of paper he found was very carefully set on the ground and unfolded with the metal implements. Tommy, their map expert, sat down carefully next to it, muttering and staring for a few minutes, then sighed almost ecstatically.
"Found it! At long last! Call down your reinforcements, captain, we know the exact location of the Bogie base at last!" he cried happily.
"Well, it's about damned time!" Jonnate grinned, pulling out his comm device and turning the signal on, "They should be down here in a few minutes, lets get moving and see what kinda defenses these Bogies know how to put up!"
"Hold your horses, we can't leave these guys un-tended, and we sure as hell don't wanna let the boy get away again. Last report he reached the ninth level on the power scale, remember?" Tommy explained.
"Bah! We all know those sensors had to be wrong, no one can reach above even seven!" one of the men scoffed.
"Don't be foolish, we're messing with Bogies, and no one's sure of the limitations of their talents, haste will only get you killed. Besides, we gotta make sure autopsy gets this corpse, I know I've never seen anything like it."
"You think they can summon stuff from other worlds or something, captain?"
"Who knows, but when the boy wakes up, I plan on finding out. You got the damper set up?" the captain asked apprehensively.
"It's up and ready, captain, nothing even a level nine can do will break through that warding circle."
The 'warding circle' was a small field shaped by the careful placement of several small devices that could created a field which would contain the energy used by the Bogies. The developers and heads of the hunting groups still wouldn't allow the power to be referred to as 'magic', so groups had just come to call it the 'bogie talent'.
A clatter of footsteps coming from father down the sewer welcomed the group of men Jonnate had been waiting for. He turned to meet them, wanting to know how they'd gotten here so quickly, and stopped. These weren't his men; they were all dressed in black suits, wore black sunglasses, and carried the aura of professionals. A dread filled Jonnate, he knew these men, if only by black rumor and fearful whispers. These 'men in black,' were the governments own hunters, trained assassins who would sacrifice their lives to complete a mission, and who's ruthlessness was more than just legendary; and they supposedly sported one other training as well.
"You will stay there, captain, your discovery of the base was most useful, and you will be... rewarded. We will handle the base ourselves, do not interfere. And do not allow the boy or old man to escape; or the corpse to be so much as touched." the man heading the column stated coldly.
Jonnate just nodded, not trusting himself to answer. One of the men moved to look at the map briefly; he reached out and grabbed the paper before Jonnate could react with a started cry. Strangely, the paper did not explode into fire as they usually did when a non-Bogie touched them.
He map-holder nodded curtly to the others and silently led them down a different tunnel, their light slowly fading as the now-silent group stalked their prey. Jonnate and his group simply stood motionless and nearly petrified as the men in black disappeared silently down the dark, cold tunnels of the sewer. Jonnate murmured silently to himself, not pleased with this turn of events in any fashion.
***
Skye couldn't shake the feeling of dread growing in her mind. She'd already warned security, and they'd tightened all the spells and strengthened the wards. They'd all learned to trust in Skye's premonitions, but despite all their preparation, the dread feeling still stood strong in Skye's mind. The entire camp was on guard now, for while some were starting to question Skye's reliability, none were willing to bet their fragile safety and freedom on a false sense of security.
The small sewer area they occupied was very closely guarded and warded to detection by regular vision and senses, keeping the normal search patrols that combed the dark sewer tunnels looking for them away and believing the occupied zone was still uninhabited sewer. The group of magic-users who'd gathered with their guardians and close friends and family, referred to by the hunters and the media as 'bogies' due to the phenomena that allowed them to focus and use the elemental powers of nature, knew that this was their last bastion of safety within the city. They were not willing to risk it for anything.
The city of magic-users was rather impressive, forged mostly by magic, with many small alcoves dug into the sewer walls to form rooms for the citizens. An entire section of the sewer had been torn down, the water flows forced to run under the concrete ground, and constructed into a hut filled alcove. With dozens and dozens or rooms, no one here starved for their own space; the camp now looked more like a permanent dwelling than the temporary hide-away it had originally been designed for. Nearly seventy people lived here, twenty three of those were magic-users.
"Isn't your childhood friend supposed to be coming?" asked one of her companions.
"Yeah," she replied, not really wanting to think of the implications.
"You think he might be the threat? Or maybe he's leading hunters down here?"
"He'd never do that."
"Why's he late then?" he countered logically.
"If he was leading hunters, wouldn't he want to arrive as on-time as possible to throw off suspicion?" she asked archly.
He shook his head, "Maybe he isn't leading them...but, well, you know..."
Skye knew what he was talking about. The biggest fear they had. Not just the groups of hunters, but the group under direct governmental control, a group no one was really sure existed...a group of magic-using hunters. The map they'd gotten to the boy would react to the touch of another human by burning itself up, only another magic-user could touch it. She knew that Rune would destroy the map rather then let the hunters get it; he hated hunters and the normal men and women for what they'd done to his sister; what even his parents had done to her. But while Rune might destroy the map if they got too close, what if they used magic to stop him from destroying it?
She shuddered and turned back to her companion, "He'd never give it up without a fight, and if it came down to that he'd destroy it." Her companion nodded, his eyes still grim, they both knew what she avoided saying...as well as why.
Suddenly her feeling of premonition died. So did her feeling of the ambient energy around her. She looked horrifically to her friend; his face betrayed the same. Their magic, their connections and ability to shape it...had just disappeared. A shocked silence filled the room, the tension and sudden fear palatable.
"I'd hate to hurt any of you, so please just lay down any weapons and come out here into the open," said a strange voice from the center zone.
Standing, out in the open area, in the middle of dozens of the citizens of this small community, was a man dressed in black. He stood with a look of complete calm on his face, his stance neither slouching nor rigid. After a moment of stunned silence, Caleb, their elder, stepped forth and spoke.
"I suppose you expect us to be cowed by your field of magic dampening?" Caleb grimly claimed, "And to stand in the middle of us all...we won't be led around by your pretty tricks and your false posturing!"
"I have nothing to fear from you fools, your limited knowledge and power hold no sway over me. Do not be deceived, there is no field of dampening, you're all being smothered by my companions."
Caleb's eyes narrowed, "So then you're the 'special' hunters, are you?"
"If you wish to call us that."
"We'll die before we become tests for the government and it's scientists."
"You aren't given that choice," the man in black said calmly.
Memories flashed rapidly through Skye's mind, memories of dark rooms and the dank smell of unwashed human flesh. The memories of her time locked up like a lab rat, her time of being treated like an animal, her time of being used. Skye's fear took over; her fear of being caged like that once again. She ran madly towards the man, speedily pulling her knife from her belt. Despite her enraged rush, before she could get within ten feet of the dark intruder, she was totally, magically, paralyzed.
"Fool, why would I lie?" he smiled slightly, grim promises sprouting from that evil smile, "I suppose an example must always be made."
***
Gaspar awoke a few hours after the departure of the men in black, staying quite still and pretending to be unconscious to size up the situation.
"You think they can handle it, captain?" one man asked, his voice quite rough.
"...I don't think much of anything can stop those murderers," replied a more sure voice, "They mean to capture the bogies."
"You know they can't allow us to survive after the boy and the old man and corpse are picked up," another claimed slightly shaken.
Silence greeted this statement.
Suddenly Gaspar felt a mind brush his. It was a unfamiliar mind, with a familiar signature, Please go and help them, it pleaded.
Gaspar reached out to the mind to find Spekkio and the boy in very concentrated conversation. The boy couldn't do anything, but wanted to help his friends, fellow magic-users and outcasts and hunted of humanity, but couldn't leave Spekkio. Spekkio silently pleaded with Gaspar to go and help the 'bogies' on the boys behalf as well. Well, I suppose I've got nothing better to do anyway, he thought to himself.
The short rest had restored most of Gaspar's magical energy, as well as healing his body enough for the aches and pains to start becoming more and more prominent. With a thought and a single word Gaspar erected a barrier of force around himself and sat up slowly, not wanting to pass out. Another calm word and his bonds were destroyed, the blindfold disintegrating and the strange metal cuffs on his hands and feet transmuted into sand.
He opened his eyes and awoke to the world again, and to the feared stare of four men and four guns. Gaspar recognized guns from Lucca and his time stream examining; he also knew how they worked and their limitations. Slowly standing up, the guru rubbed his wrists and lightly touched the side of his head. Slowly he looked at the leader of the group, the one who'd knocked him out cold earlier.
"I'm sorry fellow, but I have to go and help some people. From the brief snippet of conversation a moment ago, I take it that these men are not friendly towards you, also that you fear they won't be leaving you alive...I think it would be in both our best interests for you to let me go," Gaspar summarized calmly.
"And if I refuse?" the man said calmly.
"Let us hope that you don't make that mistake."
"And how did you manage to cast with the dampening field up?"
"Is that what you've done? I think you overestimate its power. You aren't dealing with an untrained child, there are many paths around your 'field'."
"I see," he said, then sighed, "Alright bogie, go and do your thing. I don't want to end up as a test subject or dead in these sewers."
"Captain!" one objected.
"You and I both know who those damned men were," he said, without taking his eyes of of the guru, "Our reward with be swift and painless I'm sure, but it's still a reward I'd rather forego."
"But, but, it's our job! How can you betray humanity to help the bogies?!"
"'Cause I didn't plan on mixing it up with that group, we all know what they do and what happens to those that aid them," the captain replied, "Besides, the bogies are still human, and those men don't look like the sort I'd want anyone subjected to."
The guru smiled slightly, "A wise choice."