Chrono Trigger - Threads of Destiny
Chapter 6: Blade of Magic's Bane
12000 B.C.
Like staring down the maw of Death itself, Melchior thought grimly, This place is the same as it always has been. Melchior and the Dark wanderer stood before the gates of the Black Omen, standing upon the same small platform that the Time-stream Travelers had stood upon so long ago... or so far in the future, depending on how you looked at it.
"This is your purpose, old man, I need inside this abode of Lavos... the doors are all locked and even my magic cannot penetrate the shielded outside of the Black Omen," the wanderer said.
Melchior stood before the doors of the Omen, pondering his course of action. "This is insanity, even if I could get you in, what would you do?" Melchior turn back to his companion, "I know you've changed, but for the sake of the close friendship we once held, please tell me what is going on!"
The man stood still for a moment, then sighed, "I suppose it is your right, as one of the Guru's of Zeal, and one of the designers of the monstrosities that came so close to destroying the world... I have to find Schala, that is the certain part. Then I must get her out of this place and reenter once again to destroy the Black Omen. I know it's strengths, I know it's weaknesses, all I do not know is the layout of the entrances. She had you design the locks yourself. Just as she had Gaspar design it's dormant ability to exist in all times, a power only activated by the addition of the eventual pure Lavos energy."
Once I have started the destruction of the Black Omen, I plan on leaving this horror and meeting you without. Then I will need to instruct Schala in the task that lies before her and one other, a person whom she must come to accept, just as she will have to accept the changes in me."
Melchior stared long and hard at the Dark Sign; turning to his companion once again, he said slowly, "I don't know if I can open the doors... but I will try."
The figure said nothing as Melchior went to work, poking around and trying to figure out just how his original plans for the door locking and magical recognition systems operated. He found little, if any, deviation from his original plans. The locks were unbreakable, would only respond to someone pre-programmed in as a 'priveledged' person, or those who had been added as authorized people. Neither Melchior or his companion would have been added, since they had never actually traveled to the Ocean Palace or the Black Omen. Of course, Melchior was a bit too careful to leave things under the complete control of anyone, even the Queen of Zeal.
Melchior closed his eyes, and slowly summoned forth his life energy. The warm glow of the Guru of Life's life-force would be visible to anyone with the ability to use magic, so he was sure that the Dark wanderer was watching carefully. Melchior was, however, not about to give even him the key to getting inside the Black Omen by himself without a good reason. The changes in his friend had probably not made him a cold-blooded murderer, but Melchior was not sure about him anymore, not since he'd claimed the feel of the demonic Black Wind.
With careful and delicate precision, the Guru flowed through several transitions of his life energy in creating a 'key', of sorts. The key would work for anyone with a strong life energy; however, they needed to know the exact frequency and shape the key needed to embody. The guru doubted that his companion could shape his life energy with the precision and skill Melchior could, but he taking no unnecessary chances, keeping the key in a constant state of fluid movement. The energy patterns danced like a fire, forming and bending to his will not with the crushing force of a warrior, but with the delicacy of a dancer.
The key synchronized with the energy flows from the Dark Omen, even though Melchior nearly became sick from the Lavos-energy, and with a simple whoosh, the main entrance to the Black Omen opened.
Melchior's companion said nothing, but stepped forward and into the dark inside without another sound.
With a huge sigh, Melchior sat down hard on the platform of the Black Omens entrance.
I hope he knows what he's doing, thought Melchior, I also hope he can truely find Schala.
***
The Black Omen was silent. Of course, she obviously didn't expect someone to break in so quickly. Or for someone to be able to enter, for that matter. She should have given the old guru more credit.
The scars from the Travellers battles along the way were still obvious. Remainders of machines layed in broken piles, rotting corpses from gruesome monsters lying all over, and scars along the walls and floor from the magic and attacks of their battles. He was decently impressed that a band of children had managed it all, though neither side had had any choice.
The wanderer continued along his path, confident that nothing would bother him, he had yet to anger the Omen, and it had nothing to guard. Nothing it knew it needed to guard anyway. Besides, the Black Omen was still only half awake at best. Such a huge being couldn't awaken without it's main source of power, and Lavos was long dead now.
He pondered his course of action; Schala could not remain a voluntary prisoner of the Black Omen, but by removing her, he would take away the last chain holding her and the Omen down from releasing it's true curse. Doomed if I do, doomed if I don't, he though darkly, Fate is a cruel mistress, and setting up her plots is a crueler Fate itself.
As he walked silently through the final chamber of safety on the Omen, he noticed a humming noise growing from within the Omen. Stopping for a moment in surprise, he stretched out his senses to the child-like mind of the Black Omen. It responded to his touch with a feeling of curiosity. The Black Omen itself had no feeling of right or wrong, it was merely a tool with a basic concisouness.
What is happening? the wanderer thought to the Omen, Why do you shudder?
A picture of the Omen fully funtional was placed into his mind.
Complete so quickly? How can you do such a thing? Your power, Lavos is dead, he thought back.
The returning image shook the wanderer to the base of his soul, his shock knocking loose his contact with the Omen's conciousness.
"Impossible!" he shouted.
1000 A.D.
"Dammit! This couldn't just be a practical joke!" Lucca exclaimed as she and the Princess walked away from Crono's house, "His mother wouldn't be so easily fooled. Who would attack him? Magic? Metal men and disappearing and portals... it's ludicrous!"
"Umm, Lucca," the Princess tried to interject.
"I mean, who could Crono have made so mad they'd try to kill him? And with fancy lights and tricks? To what purpose?!"
"Lucca," the Princess stated more firmly.
"Sure, he's been acting really weird lately, and..." Lucca continued.
"LUCCA!" the Princess shouted, grabbing Lucca's shoulders and turning Lucca to face her.
"Huh?" Lucca started in surprise, "Oh! Oh, Princess, I'm sorry! I got so wrapped up that I lost track of where I was..."
"Listen, Lucca, this is gonna sound kind of weird, but I think the magic was real."
"Real? There's no such thing as 'magic'. It's against the laws of nature!" Lucca countered, "Erm, well, I mean, there's not proof that it exists, and physical laws don't really leave room for a supernatual power to control elements," she floundered, afraid she might have gone too far with talking down the Princess.
"Listen, you can't tell anyone about this, alright?" Marle said, looking Lucca straight in the eye with a seriousness that surprised the inventor.
"Uh, sure."
"I'm serious," she narrowed her eyes, "This has to remain totally secret!"
"Alright, you have my word," Lucca stated plainly.
Marle gently lifted her hands in front of Lucca, keeping them pressed together horizontally, as if she was cupping something very important and short within. Lucca couldn't help but pull her head in closer as if looking for the smallest details.
Marle breathed out heavily, then closed her eyes and rolled her head back a bit, looking up to the sky. Lucca barely noticed her faces movement, however, as her senses were completely centered on the Princess' hands.
At first nothing seemed to be happening, but after a moment small puffs of condensed air came from between the Princess' hands, almost as if she was holding ice. Slowly the princess raised her upper hand, pulling it vertically away from her lower one very slowly and deliberatly. What Lucca saw then changed her opinion on magic instantly.
As her upper hand raised, tendrils of ice formed from her lower hand, and as she went the shape of the ice came to resemble a dancer in a breath-taking pose. What was most breath-taking was that she created it from nothing but air and moisture in the air using no gizmos, lights and mirrors, or special tools.
Finally the figure was completed, balanced on one foot the ice dancer began to slowly spin in her hands as Marle's concentration became more intense. Finally Marle pressed her hands together slowly, melting the figure back to nothing but air.
"How..." Lucca started.
"Magic." the Princess stated, "I have no other way to describe it. One day I just accidentally froze part of my dresser when in a fit of anger," she explained, "It took a lot of practice, but I was eventually able to recreated the feelings I had at the time I did it, and with more practice I learned to control it without being angry."
"So, you think if you can use magic, it might not be so crazy that Crono and his enemy and the metal stranger could all use the mysterious powers?" Lucca said, still midly off balance from having a large fact of life totally disproven.
"Well, I don't know if they were using it for sure, I felt very odd while we were at that house," she said, "almost as if the magic used there was cold, not like ice cold, but emotionless or cruel cold."
"I don't know anything about this magic stuff," Lucca said, "But I know I can follow the facts placed in front of me. Since magic is probably not a sham, we can safely assume that the marks and damage done was mostly magical in nature, so the attacker obviously was afraid of a physical attack by Crono or his metal friend."