A Provoked Duel
By: Gibson22
"Do not be afraid of me, little one. I mean thee no harm."
"I believe you. Are you a monster, though?"
"My guise may be that of a beast, but fear not. I hath the heart of a man."
"Were you always like this?"
"So many questions for one so little!"
"I'm sorry, sir...what is your name?"
"Frog, my friend. I hath the appearance, therefore I own the title."
"Frog...can we play? You must be fast at playing hide-and-go-seek."
"Mayhaps we can in the morning. The events of the day may have exhausted you, little one."
A dark figure huddled over a campfire as he shivered from the cold. As he warmed his hands over the warm, orange flames he had done something that he had done every single night since that horrible morning; he observed his hands. His hands used to be calloused, tanned, and well-used from hours of sword practice. Now, his hands were webbed and horribly distorted in a dark green color so that they were grotesque to the human eyes. The rest of his body which used to be tall, dark, and handsome, had become short, stubby, and revolting. Even then, that didn't bother him as much as the sight of his hands. He couldn't see himself, only when he would look into a mirror; but his hands were always in front of him reminding him of his cruel fate. He was so disturbed by the sight that he hid his hands behind long, white, leather gloves so that he would never be constantly aware of his curse. However, on nights such as these, where the winds blow fresh driven snow in sharp, stinging hordes, gloves did little to fully warm him.
At that moment he was inside a wooden hut that was hastily built for refugees of a recent crisis. As he looked about him, there were dozens of others wrapped in thick blankets, each and everyone lying on a fur blanket that covered a clean-swept, dirt floor. A few fires, other than his own, were in different places inside the hut and each one had several inhabitants huddled closely towards it. As he watched the victims of the catastrophic fall of the Zeal Kingdom (which was figurative and literal) his heart leapt into the base of his throat and he thought he would cry. With the fall of the Zeal Kingdom came the death of a beloved friend who saw him as he really was, despite his curse. With a heart full of bravery and sacrificing courage, he bore the pains of death to save his friends. The tears came to the brim of his eyes as he felt two salty streams flow down his cheeks. He wasn't the only one who was shedding tears over the death of his friend. A beautiful princess, who was huddled at his same campfire, shed tears of sorrow even as she slept, as well as the martyr's closest friend who had tried her hardest to hide her feelings towards any circumstance; but at the death of her childhood friend she had broken down and cried as she had never done before. Even this battle-hardened figure, who hadn't cried over his horrible curse, began to sob at the thought of his murdered friend.
It was only a day ago when this had happened. It would be unbelievable to anyone else from any time to believe it. A rent in time had occurred and this battle-hardened figure began to embark on an adventure through the depths of time and history. It was brought to his attention that an evil being would come to destroy the world in a far off time. It was unbelievable until he was thrown into another time as well. Events had brought the small group of misfits so close that they were almost considered a family. However, their latest adventure had taken them to a world frozen in ice that had existed twelve millennia and four hundred years before his time. Above that frigid world was a paradise that existed in the clouds. The paradise used the very power of the evil entity to sustain its prosperity, but a greedy queen and her plans had upset that unstable balance and brought its dynasty to a cataclysmic end. Now the clouds had dispersed and the sun had shone through as it hadn't done in eras. However, that evil entity remained under the earth to resurface in that distant time and bring about the death of the world. At that point, the cloaked warrior wished not to pursue the journey further. Just like the others, after the death of their valued friend, the glimmer of hope in their eyes had gone. Their friend, who was the strongest of all of them, had been torn about like a rag doll. Would not the same thing happen to them as well?
The scene of his friend's death played before him again. While the rest of them were incapacitated, Crono was able to stand alone. Even the great and powerful Magus was sprawled on the floor, groaning in agony, with an evident feeling of resentment as he was saved by one of his most rivaled enemies. At that moment Frog smiled diminutively as he reflected on the wizard's apparent anger and frustration. Then, like a crumbling dam, memories (mostly unpleasant ones) began to pour into his mind. A burning hatred filled his bosom as he watched the fire. He saw himself as he once was; a handsome man who was aspiring to become a knight and aide to the royal family. He saw his friend, who was very much like Crono, die before his eyes. That damned wizard had taken all that he had with that horrible curse. As Frog looked down at his hands once more, he saw that they were clenched tightly and shaking. Then he thought again of Crono and his death. Frog's burning hatred then wanted for revenge against that evil entity...
"Lavos..." Frog's throaty voice rumbled as he let that vile name leave his mouth.
At that moment Frog felt overwhelmed, realizing that revenge was his sole motive for living on. A deep feeling of powerlessness consumed him so that he simply bowed his head in silence. For the first time in years, he said a silent prayer within him as the fire crackled on. He spoke in his low, throaty voice as he begged almighty god for guidance. "Frog?" A soft voice called to him during his entreaty. His prayer was broken as his eyes slowly opened and looked towards his friend who was sprawled out on the floor, with eyes puffy and slightly red from an unceasing cry hours before. "Hmm..." Frog let out a low growl (non-menacing) as he looked towards Princess Nadia. The princess slowly made her way to his side and sat next to him, shifting her blanket so that it hung about her shoulders. Despite her love for Frog, she rarely touched him, which was the same for the others; except for Crono, who had never flinched at his friend's appearance. However, at this moment she put her arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. "Have I awakened thee?" Frog asked her, after a few moments. She shook her head, letting her long golden locks flow back and forth.
She looked into the same fire, but it seemed her mind was somewhere else. A few minutes passed in silence; a silence which was not as lonely as it was when it was Frog by his lonesome. It was rather peaceful at that moment as the fire snapped and twisted at the withering logs. "You were thinking about Crono too, weren't you?" Frog nodded, his large amphibian chin bunching up at the base of his throat. "Aye, above many things. He is not the sole occupant of my thoughts." The princess did not let her gaze leave the fire and it seemed to anyone else that she was in a thoughtful stupor, but that was far from the truth. Her mind was a raging torrent of thoughts and emotions which were all caused from the last few days. "The worst thing to me is the memory of that little kid telling us that someone would die, and we still couldn't do anything about it. I never thought that it would be him. He just seemed too strong."
"Aye."
Another moment of silence ensued, but it was broken by the most peculiar question. "Were you just praying now?" The princess' gaze was now fixed on Frog, but he continued to stare into the fire. "Yes, I was." The princess nodded, "I never knew you were the prayerful type." Frog smiled, and laughed slightly inside of himself, "In my youth I visited the cathedral with Cyrus every single Sunday. That was one thing I have always admired in Cyrus. He always would say that his service would always be to god, then country, and then lastly to the king. His majesty would always jokingly accuse him of treason." Frog laughed now at the thought as did Marle. He quickly, but difficultly subdued himself. He let out a long sigh and simply whispered, "Oh how I miss him. He was not only my friend, but he was my brother."
"Are you talking about Cyrus?" Marle asked softly.
"I speak of them both." Frog answered, and his heart burned within him at those words.
"Well, at least you have your family." She said.
"What doth thy word mean?" He said, turning to her.
"You still have a brother and three sisters." She said to him with a teary smile.
"Aye." Frog said, quickly becoming overcome with emotion.
To his surprise, Marle's arms quickly encompassed him. Slowly, and hesitantly, he let his arms encircle her in an embrace. She slowly pulled away from him and stood once again and retreated to her spot. As she lay down she looked at Frog one last time. "I hope god answers your prayer." Frog nodded slowly and said, "He already has, my friend. He already has." She looked at him and smiled knowingly and she slept deeply and cried no more. As for the battle-hardened figure, he closed his eyes once again and said a prayer of thanks before he laid himself down by the hearth and went into a deep, comfortable slumber.
Author's Note: I do not own the Chrono Trigger franchise nor do I own any of the characters.