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-Imania
Chapter Eight – The Universe of the MagesMarle and Tarreiz found their way back to the others, who were waiting not so patiently. "We are making very good time," the Mage announced, "and can afford to spend several days in Jeraska, if you so wish."
"Tarreiz…" Lucca began a little distractedly. "When you were talking to Jhyskar, you mentioned Magus. Why can't you tell me where he is?"
"Because I do not know," Tarreiz responded honestly enough. "I have told you that he thinks of you and that he will return. What more do you want me to say?"
"You really have no idea about where he is?" pressed the scientist.
"No, I do not. Why is it so impossible for anyone to accept my words at face value? I would not lie to you about this matter, Lucca. I know how much he means to you, and you to him."
"…I mean something to him?"
"Of course you do. He would have left the group long before you even knew of Kelke's existence if you had not persuaded him to stay." Tarreiz glanced around at the others before returning her gaze to Lucca. "We can speak of this later if you would prefer to discuss it privately."
"How do you know all of this?" Crono asked curiously.
"I… picked up the ability somewhere along the way."
"And who taught you lot everything you know?"
"I did. Mostly. Kelke himself did not require as much teaching, and Tarkyn was already comfortable with the Forest magic, but I practically had to start from the beginning with the others. This is getting us nowhere. Would you prefer to walk or be transported to Jeraska?"
"Let me think about this," Marle began thoughtfully. "Would we like to trudge through damnable snow, or arrive at the city in an instant? …I think we'd like to be transported, if that's okay with you."
"It is your decision," Tarreiz responded, and a few seconds later they were standing in a room in the Mage's house.
"You are free to travel the city," Tarreiz told them, moving to a cupboard, "but I think that I will stay here."
"Why?" Marle asked curiously.
"Because I, personally, hate this place. I always have." The man who had invaded her kingdom had set his home base up in Jeraska. Tarreiz opened the cupboard, removed a mop, handed it to Schala. A broom was similarly without ceremony presented to Crono. Tarreiz leaned further into the cupboard only to emerge with a scythe.
"Because we all keep scythes in our broom cupboards," Lucca commented.
"I needed a place to put it, and the broom cupboard seemed the best." Tarreiz held it out to the scientist. "It is known simply as Calamity. The staff is made from a metal that will not burn nor melt."
Lucca caught the slight smile tugging at the Mage's lips and knew that Tarreiz was having a go at her for setting Magus' scythe on fire once or twice. "Why are you giving it to me?"
"It is for Janus, as you probably have guessed by now. You are to keep it for him."
Lucca took it reluctantly. "Why does he need something with such an evil name?"
"Janus' magic will always be dark, Lucca, but black magic does not always indicate evil. Black, white, magic is only magic. It is the way that it is used that makes it good or evil."
"I think I'm going to throw up," Schala muttered. "That was way too deep, Tarreiz. Here, have your mop back."
"And the broom," Crono put in quickly.
"Someone take a picture," Marle suggested. "It will probably be the only time we'll ever see Crono with a household cleaning implement."
Lucca laughed with the others, but her mirth was a little distracted because she was studying the scythe. The blade appeared to be made from something black that was like nothing she had ever seen before. She hefted it experimentally. Lightweight, but strong.
"We will spend the night here," Tarreiz declared, "and in the morning, we make for the Island of the Sirens."
As it turned out, the others didn't really want to hit the town either. Marle had been kidnapped from Jeraska, and none of them had particularly fond memories of the place. They breakfasted at the residence of Tarreiz before continuing on their way. Well, before preparing to continue, anyway.
"Crono, I will need to remove your hearing here," Tarreiz warned him. "You are needed too much to be allowed to spend the rest of your life on the Island."
"If Ciaruse sings at him, I'll kill her," Marle vowed darkly.
"Lay a hand on Ciaruse with the intention of causing harm and I will be forced to punish you for it, Marle," Tarreiz countered quietly. "The same goes for the others, including, unfortunately, Jandegar. The Mages have many rules in order to keep the peace between us. For some reason, Kelke is the only exception. Jandegar wants nothing to do with him, therefore he is not welcome in Altrisiac, which seems to me completely unfair."
"Um… okay… if Ciaruse sings at him, I will be extremely upset in her general direction. Is that better?"
"I suppose I can allow that. Crono?"
"I am not looking forward to this," Crono admitted, allowing Tarreiz to touch him.
"It is quite a simple spell, Crono, and I will remove it the instant we leave the Island. Are you ready?"
"No, but do it anyway." While he was planning their major battles, Crono tended not to speak, but the inability to hear was new to him. Although it wasn't a major disability – he could still see, after all, and speak, even though he wouldn't be able to hear himself – it was unsettling and he didn't exactly like it. All the same, it was better than being sung at.
Tarreiz transported them directly to a room that was all silver and quite pretty, but then the Mage hesitated. "I have no knowledge of this place," she admitted quietly, glancing around. "This is the second time in my entire existence that I have entered the Temple of the Moon. I suppose that we will have to find one of the priestesses and ask her to take us to Ciaruse. And it is not just me," she added, glancing at Marle. "Only Ciaruse knows her way around the Temple. None of the other Mages make a habit of coming here. We try not to spend too long in the territories of the others anyway, with the exception of Altrisiac."
It wasn't too much later before a dark-haired woman wandered over and said something that none of them understood. "Ciaruse…?" Tarreiz hazarded helplessly. Lucca had never seen the Mage so much out of her element and understood then that the Sirens obviously had an entirely different culture.
"An entirely different language, too," Tarreiz told the young scientist. "One that most of us have no hope of learning. I cannot sing at all and have practically no knowledge of music. The language of the Sirens is beyond me."
The dark-haired woman obviously hadn't understood what Tarreiz had said either, apart from catching the name and forming a decision from that. "Ciaruse?" she queried, waiting for a nod of confirmation from Tarreiz before making a follow-me gesture. She led them through the Temple, in which water and the colour silver featured largely, before opening a door and gesturing them through.
The Mage of the Moon was sitting on the edge of an elaborate water fountain, humming to herself as she made notes on a piece of paper. Tarreiz gave a small sigh of exasperation. It was going to be one of those encounters. "Ciaruse?" she called impatiently.
Ciaruse looked up at her. "Tarreiz. It's not often that we find you here. Or any of the other Mages, for that matter."
There was a silence. "The item…?" Tarreiz prompted finally.
Ciaruse only continued to look at her, sea-coloured eyes somewhat neutral. The Sixth Mage blinked once or twice, then gazed at something in the distance. Tarreiz made an exasperated noise.
"When silver woman in same world as everyone else?" Ayla asked of the Mage of Vision.
"Very rarely, Ayla. Very rarely."
"Jandegar has a message for you," Ciaruse told Tarreiz finally.
"Wrong station, Ciaruse. Could we possibly get to the item first?"
"Oh yes," Ciaruse remembered. "I suppose that we can." She rose to her feet and, unclipping her silver cape, moved to Ayla. She held the cape out to the prehistoric woman. "This is for you."
Ayla took the cape and, with a glance at Schala, said uncertainly, "Thank… you."
Schala beamed. "I taught her that."
"It will," said Ciaruse to Ayla, "give you the ultimate magical and physical defence. Hopefully that will be helpful to you. Or rather, unhopefully, because if it is helpful, that means that you are fighting. And that wouldn't be a good thing."
Ayla picked up on the word. "Fight? Ayla fight!" said the woman proudly. "Ayla fight Lavos!"
"Oh. Well. If it pleases you, then do as you will." Ciaruse looked back to Tarreiz. "Jandegar wants you to return to Altrisiac now."
"Can he not leave me in peace to fulfil the task he has assigned to me?" Tarreiz demanded angrily.
"He told me to tell you that your task is officially over."
"What of the seventh item?"
Ciaruse shook her head. "I do not know. I'm just telling you what Jandegar said to tell you. He made me memorize it, and say it to him twice."
"I can't just leave this lot on the Island of the Sirens," Tarreiz pointed out smugly.
"Jandegar instructed me to put them on a ship and send them back to the mainland. He has it all worked out."
"Yes, indeed he does," Tarreiz muttered. "I will have to remove the spell I put on Crono, but I don't want to do it here."
"Why?"
"Because one of your Sirens will sing at him by mistake."
Ciaruse took something from a shelf and held it out to Crono, who had no idea what was going on as he couldn't lip-read but who took it anyway. "They won't if he's wearing the medallion."
Crono looked mystified and shouted, "What?"
Ciaruse took the medallion off of him and then placed it around his neck. "Take your spell off, Tarreiz."
"Very well," said Tarreiz tightly in a manner that let them all know that she wasn't happy about it, and complied.
"What are you doing?" Crono said to her loudly. "We're not – oh, I can hear myself. Sorry, I think I was shouting at you just then."
"Yes, yes you were," Tarreiz informed him.
"Anyway, what are you doing? I don't want to be sung at!"
"Jandegar apparently wants me to return to Altrisiac. Ciaruse will take you to the port. She tells me that the medallion that you wear will grant you some measure of protection."
"Oh." Crono smiled uncertainly. "That was nice of you," he said to Ciaruse.
"I don't want you on my Island as much as Tarreiz doesn't," was the Mage's response. "Tarreiz, I will meet you in Altrisiac. Perhaps we can discover what Jandegar is planning together. Follow me," she said to the others and wandered out of the Temple. The others followed, Marle grasping Crono's arm possessively.
Lucca's curiosity had been stirred by one of Tarreiz's comments and she asked Ciaruse about it. "Is it impossible to speak your language if you can't carry a tune?"
"Yes," was the response. "The language is based on the degrees of the octave scale. The slightest nuance can give something a completely different meaning. I am told that it is very difficult to learn. The port is directly ahead of you. There will be a ship leaving in about half an hour. If you will excuse me, I have a meeting to which I should attend."