Chrono Cross Second Journey

Fan Novelization

Book 2

2   Riding the Waves of Time

If destiny brought Kid to Serge, would destiny take Kid away now that she had outlived her usefulness? This was the fleeting thought on Serge's mind as the portal tunneled him from one world to another.

The sounds of rushing winds soon wheezed into silence, as if the winds had been sucked out completely from the black void. Another row of snow-colored froth gushed upwards, washing up a view similar to the very one it washed away.

Opassa Beach greeted the travelers with the sounds of the cycle of flow and ebb of the calm waves, a cycle unbroken since the dawn of time. Seagulls soared through the afternoon sky, cheerfully singing their way on to their destinations, repeating a similar unbroken cycle of their daily life known to them since their birth into this world. The coolness of the weather was to Serge a sudden dip in temperature that brought a nostalgic chill to Serge's skin; one that instantly reminded him of the comfortable climate he had been so used to, but that he had almost forgotten existed. Even the puffy mushrooms of white clouds that were a rare sight in the other world were now once again in full blossom under the blue heaven.

The magic, or perhaps "science," that took them on the ride over the waves of time had faded into nothing more than what Serge saw earlier -- streaks of smoke rising up from a mysterious, ghostly source. Be it magic or science, Serge was now back, assuming that the world he ended up in was his own.

"We're here," Serge commented the obvious. On the one hand, his heart raced with elation. On the other, his heart raced against the counting of time. He had wondered about it on the ferryman's boat. And if he were right in his assumptions, then every hour they spent in the world he belonged, was every hour wasted in the other. Each tick of the clock in this world counted down to Kid's death in the other.

"It felt like my body was split," Leena said as she gazed into the clouded heavens. "It was strange. It's hard to believe, even if I know this cannot be the world I live in. I can see and feel the difference. How has been like for the other version of myself to have lived in this world, I wonder?" Leena appeared wistful.

"Do you wish to stop by Arni meet with her?"

Leena turned and cast Serge an uncertain glance. "Meet who?"

"You," said Serge. "The Leena in my world."

"Oh," she hesitated. "I-I think now's not the time. I'll wait for you instead at the Divine Dragon Falls?"

With a nod, Serge said, "Let us hurry then."

Serge and Leena ran. They ran past the Lizard Rock and witnessed the decomposition of the carcass of the huge mother lizard that had fallen prey to Serge's Elemental prowess. Serge regarded the gruesome sight of scavengers--large and tiny--of the well-cooked meat with disgust, but he noted that the sight must be a confirmation this was the very world in which he had lived and grown up in. The sudden realization of the existence and his experience of the two similar yet totally different worlds wrapped chill around his flesh.

Past the Lizard Rock, Leena took the trail that led to the Divine Dragon Falls.

Serge continued to run; run towards home.

"Serge, you are back!" exclaimed an old fellow villager at the village entrance.

The exclamation drew the village crowd over, each pouring words of concern in a jumble of incoherence.

"Where have you been?"

"Everyone's been looking for you!"

"You mother has been worried sick!"

The all too familiar sight had unfolded before Serge's eyes. Dried fish hung from the walls of the hut. The huge catch for today by the village fisherman had gone up in the hammock at the edge of the village. The familiar odor that would bring food out of one's guts brought an unbearable lump up to his throat. The familiar faces that greeted Serge left his eyes with mist and left his neck quivering with longing.

This was home.

"It's a long story," he said, fighting the tears back. "I'll explain it to you some other time. Where's mom?"

"She's at home," was the unanimous reply.

"Thank you."

Serge wiggled his way through the emotional crowd who seemed reluctant to let him pass. He held his tears back at the sudden swarm of concern. He wanted to leave them for his mother as an apology, an apology for leaving without a word and for returning so late.

Serge snuffled when eventually he stepped in his own home. His watery eyes were fed with the satiating sight of his small, modest living room, lit healthily yellow by the afternoon sun. The ambient of yellow was to him cheerfulness, warmth that brought back memories of bliss. As he walked past the living room, he drowned himself in that warmth, relishing with every step its tender loving embrace.

Serge walked up the short flight of stairs. He saw Marge in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed, in tears. She looked up and studied Serge.

"Serge?" she said with a voice hoarse and exhausted.

Serge hurried to her, sank to his knees and hugged her.

"Mom!" he cried. Tears flowed.

"Serge!" she cried in delight and returned the hug. "W-Where've you been? You had me worried! I thought you might have left, like your father did. Leena told me that you... you disappeared!" Marge squeezed Serge. "What would I do, if you were gone? What would I do!?"

She broke into uncontrollable sobs.

"Don't be silly, mom. I have never left," he said softly as he patted her on her back. His heart ached at the thought of the other world where Marge died ten years ago of loneliness. The thought of the same that might happen to his mother brought tears flooding through his eyes and washing down his cheeks.

Mother and son held each other in their arms, each overwhelmed by the surge of relief. Weeps of worries bottled up over the unbearable two days continued endlessly for the next quarter of the hour. As the weeping slowly subsided, the physical touch slowly touched their hearts with a soothing relief, as if it seeped in through their skins. It soon grew to be an addiction that none of them both were able to resist, to bear letting go. But Serge made a move. And reluctantly, they painfully tore themselves apart and communicated with their eyes. Tears still continued to flow nevertheless, over a smile that they could finally smile, expressing joy that required no mouth to voice, no ear to listen.

"It's been a long story, mom," wept Serge. "I will explain it to you some other time. But right now, I have something very important to do."

She patted him firmly on his shoulders, managing a curious surprise behind her tears. "You seem..."

"What is it?"

"Why, you seem... you seem to have grown up a little," she said, seizing Serge's hands. "And what important matter are you talking about?"

"I need to save a friend, she's dying. But I promise I will be back."

Marge wiped the tears off her face.

"Of course!" she said with a tone proud, and with a pat of encouragement. "Do what you have to do, Serge. Do not let her down."

"Thank you, mom," he responded spontaneously, hugging her again, grateful for her unconditional support, no different from the one she had been giving to him all these years living together. "Thank you."

"Serge! Where've you been?" shouted an angry voice from the door.

Serge turned up to see Leena, standing with fists on her hips, feet wide apart.

"You disappeared from the beach! Don't scare me like that!"

"Leena?" Serge asked. For a moment, he was baffled by the identity of the girl who stood before him and demanded answers. It didn't take him long enough to conclude that this was the Leena he grew up with. She was obviously not upset about Kid's impending departure. And this Leena whom he had made a promise to five years ago at Cape Howl, shed no tear at the sight of his return. When it dawned on him that this Leena was his childhood friend, he was a little saddened that she did not even speak of a word of concern.

Instead, she walked up to Serge and punched him in his arm.

"Don't scare me like that!" she yelled accusingly.

"Mom, Leena, I really have to go," said Serge, seizing his mother's hands tightly in his own. "But I will return and tell you all that had happened."

"Do take care of yourself, Serge," Marge reminded gently, wiping the remaining tears off her cheeks.

"I will," replied Serge reassuringly.

"You..." Leena muttered. Her voice was unconventionally low. "You are leaving again, Serge?"

"It will just be for a couple of days."

Serge stood up and walked towards the door.

"Serge, I... um..." she said hesitantly. "Nothing."

He nodded at her, and said with little gratefulness and with much disappointment, "Goodbye."

Serge left the village, seen off by his mother, his childhood friend and the whole village.

Water was said to run within the cavities of Mount Pyre. Geysers from beneath the ground evaporated and condensed in the rocky cracks. Condensation gathered into droplets, droplets became trickles, trickles formed streams and streams combined into gushes that found their way through an opening in the south of the mountain range. The result was a column of pure white water that fell through a tall opening and plunged down to a large, clear water lake. Mists hung low near the lake, adding the touch of divinity to the Divine Dragon Falls. The lake had once been likened to the palm of a hand, and its stretches of mists the long reaching fingers that gently touched the palm of the hand, just as they touched anyone who appreciated the beauty of Nature's work.

Word said that in the past, the Divine Dragon Falls had been a common place of worship for believers of the Divine Dragon Faith. With the coming of the mainlanders who colonized El Nido, and the spread of the disbelief of the Dragon Gods, this place had witnessed the dwindling number of believers over the past century. An aged devotee or two could, however, be spotted occasionally, trudging laboriously up a ledge on the southern wall of the mountain range, up into a small cavern within the mountain walls, a cavern that was once considered holy, sacred ground. Today, the entire landscape was considered forsaken, forgotten.

Serge spotted Leena by the side of the huge lake, bent down and sipping from her hands. As he approached her, she bent forward, poked her head into the water. As she gurgled noisily underneath the surface, bubbles danced around her head. The hems of her long, red dress were wet. So was her long, shiny red hair. She did not appear to care about more of those that she did seem to relish the touch of the divine cool of the lake water. When she finally tossed her head back, she exhaled in pleasure, smiled in delight, for she must have savored the experience.

"This is wonderful, Serge," she said with her eyes closed. "In my world, the water in the Divine Dragon Falls is warm. It's not even soothing warm. It's unbearably warm."

Then, she sighed, opened her eyes and gazed at Serge.

"Is Mrs. Serge fine?" she asked concernedly.

With this question, Serge compared again. Leena and Leena. The fact that they wore the two same faces and carried the two same names was undisputable. He saw two copies of the same person, each of whom lived her life differently and independently from the other, not knowing the other existed. A feeling had crept up to him and it was strange, even bizarre and beyond his imagination and his daily musings of life and death, body and soul. The feeling tingled in his skin, as if the mist clasped Serge with its cold fingers. But like how the strange feeling had crept up to him, an old proverb soon came to him and shed light upon his inexplicable dilemma. "It is the looks that hide a person; and the heart that defines him." It was thus, he saw the two Leenas as two different people, as if they wore two different faces.

"Serge? What's wrong?" she asked, as she stood and wringed her hair.

"Nothing. She is well, thank you."

"Does"--her gaze fell to the ground--"the other Leena know that you are back?"

"She... Yes."

"That's good," she muttered with a wistful nod. Then, she looked up, raised her brows, bit her lips, and shrugged. She tried to look unconcerned, but for what reason, Serge was not certain. "Well, let us go, shall we?" she continued. "Kid is waiting."

The Hydra Marshes was home to the living Hydras, gigantic snakes that thrived in these dark, swampy regions of the southeastern parts of the central continent. Unlike those documented in mythological references, the Hydra in El Nido grew one single head, and had no unusual ability to grow extra if it were cut off. The origins of the names given to these very creatures were no longer known amongst the El Nidons. It was only imagined the reason was that the Hydra bore some form resemblance to their mythological counterparts; or perhaps the living Hydra represented a mythological idolism, worshipped by people in the past.

Apart from the Hydras, the dark swamp was home to other poisonous plants. Flowers of striking purple sprouted in abundance throughout the marshes, concocting beneath its deceiving beauty toxic that could render anyone a painful death if not treated early enough. These plants often attacked its victims (or prey) by exploding from its sacs a powdery substance that when inhaled or contacted with, could cause one to fall extremely ill. Even though it was treatable with the commonest forms of antidotes at the early stages of infection, the Hydra Marshes was not a place many even endeavored to venture into.

The marsh was known for its network of vines and leafless branches of scarlet red sprouting from what people call the Ba Trees. The long arms of these red branches stretched toward the skies directly above the marshes, as if they formed a protective net over the swamp. It can be seen from afar as a scenic dome of red, much like the shape of a heart, except it did not beat like one should. These Ba Trees and the community of poisonous plants underneath it lived together in a strange synergy. While the strong arms of the branches provided the necessary shading and cool conditions to the plants, the decomposition of these packs and other animals that died under their poison provided the essential nourishments to the Ba Trees.

The mutual goodwill did not end there, however, for it was rumored that even the Hydra was an essential part of an extremely delicate chain of survival in the marshes. In areas where the swamps would have been extremely poisonous for other creatures, the Hydra absorbed most of the toxins into its own body. It was said that because the Hydra possessed special chemicals in their body, they were able to have the toxins in their body neutralized. Consequently, these chemicals were one of the main reasons for the rampant Hydra hunting, for their meat, skin, and especially for the chemical extracts from their body.

A clan of creatures built their homes in the thick trunks of the Ba Trees. These yellow creatures walked around with a bell over their neck and an umbrella riddled with holes. They spoke hardly intelligibly. Even though they tried hard at learning the common tongue, they interrupted almost every single spoken word with a habitual "beeba." And when asked who they were, they simply called themselves the "Beebas."

Serge and Leena trod carefully through the dangerous marsh, taking care to avoid the venomous plants. After wading through large pools of pungent muck and brushing through thick growth of tall weeds, they found themselves in a clearing, a rare part of the mash padded only with dark, brown sand. Further beyond the clearing was a trail that led into a thick growth of grass and Ba trees. Upon crossing the clearing, Serge forged ahead cautiously through thick growth with Leena following close behind. As they pressed on, the growth thinned, revealing what seemed to be a murky lake.

Serge found his pulse racing with anticipation, for he saw a Hydra resting in the lake. He signaled for Leena to slow and proceed silently. As Serge reached the edge of the growth, he scanned carefully his environs. The lake, banked by mud of dirty grey, reached a shallow depth of perhaps no more than waist-deep in most areas. A hedge of tall growth encircled the lake, concealing it from eyes beyond its little world. The Hydra had coiled itself up like a giant snake and had its head poking above the water like a large crocodile. Even if it seemed to have its eyes fixed intently on Serge, it seemed contented to rest lazily under the cool afternoon sun that stole through the Ba branches.

"I cannot believe," whispered Leena, "that there's a Hydra right before my eyes."

"Keep our voices low, Leena," Serge ordered under his breath. "We sneak up to its back."

And sneaked up they did. The Hydra seemed to notice, and Serge was aware that it did. After the encounter with the mother lizard that could have cost him his life, he knew better than to be deceived by the creature's docility. The Hydra was, with its huge body mass, known to defend itself should the need arise. But driven by the desire to see Kid returned to the pink of health, Serge feared none of what strength the creature would demonstrate. He would and must ensure that death come swift to the limbless reptile. With that goal in mind, Serge began going through his options, strategizing his attacks, and taking into account the terrain presented to him.

The hedge provided little cover, for movements through it ruffled the growth and attracted the receptive ears. The murky water would prove to be of a hindrance, and an advantage to the Hydra for it could slither through it easier than they could wade through it. The Hydra would coil around its victim and crush it to death effortlessly. The lake was, however, small room for the Hydra to move, should it endeavor to slither into pockets of safety and launch from an attack from it. With a team of two, they could flank the Hydra on its left and right, with Leena offering as the main distraction and Serge coming from behind and dealing the fatal kill with his swallow. Confident that the plan would work out, Serge laid it out on the table for Leena. She agreed to play the distraction.

After reminding Leena to watch her six, Serge gave the word to go. Serge and Leena crept from the back of the Hydra to its right and left respectively. The Hydra seemed suddenly disconcerted at the impending hostility flanked at its sides, for its tail rattled beneath the water and disturbed the lake, stirring clouds of mud beneath its surface. Serge watched the Hydra with wary eyes as he inched in synchrony with Leena towards the Hydra. When he was certain they were ready, Serge gave Leena the nod. Leena charged at the Hydra, her dagger flashing in the afternoon sunlight. Instead of guarding Leena's strike, the Hydra jolted its head above water, and turned to stare furiously at Serge.

Serge, taken by surprise, returned a shocked stare as he stood rooted to the ground. The Hydra lunged forward and slammed its head into Serge, throwing him off his feet and sending him tumbling into the hedge. Pain seized his being and stars burst wildly in his vision, as Serge struggled to sit up from the fall. His head spun so wildly that it he found his body falling to his side. Determined not to collapse under the fainting spell, he planted his hand on the ground to bolster his weight. He struggled to keep his eyes open, for if he closed them, the swirling in his head felt worse and threatened to swallow him into unconsciousness. As he fought to regain his sanity, he vaguely heard Leena shouting from his back.

"Serge!" she cried. "Are you all right?"

She received no response. But Leena pressed ahead with her threat anyway, sloshed into the water, and aimed her dagger at the Hydra's body. The Hydra dived beneath the water and slithered around Leena. The lake that was now opaque provided the perfect hiding for the Hydra.

"H-Help!" Leena cried.

Shocked by the swift counter-offensive and the fact that the enemy had cleverly hidden itself from view, she began to stab aimlessly, frantically into the water. When she felt her dagger pierce flesh, she jabbed relentlessly at the same spot in the water. Before long, she felt water swirl around her feet, and felt it stir terror in her heart. She managed another futile jab into the Hydra's body before she found herself wrapped by its slippery scales. The Hydra thrust its head above water, and shrank its coil around Leena. The crushing strength forced Leena to tears. She tried to scream, but her voice found no means past her choking neck.

Serge trampled towards the bank of the lake with an Element bead between his fingers. Pooling his concentration, he cast a Red at the Hydra's cranium. A flame burst into existence and licked at the Hydra's face. The giant snake howled in pain. It released its devastating grip on Leena, leaving her to sink into the lake.

"Leena!" yelled Serge, as he kept his eyes on the struggling Hydra.

Leena disappeared beneath the water as the Hydra dipped its head into the water and doused the burning flame. Serge swung his swallow forward and bolted towards the Hydra, just as the Hydra lifted its head into view. Channeling his might into the swallow, roaring his war cry, Serge shoved his weapon into the Hydra's body below its head, through it and then he yanked it out forcefully. As the blades tore through the skin, flesh and the tendons, the Hydra howled painfully. He felt the layers of flesh ripping through the hilt of his swallow, and felt as if he heard them amplify within his ear drums. Credit to the Hydra's violent struggles, the swallow succeeded in tearing out a large chunk of flesh and snapping several delicate bones on its way out. Precious fluid of shiny green squirted from the Hydra's open wound.

Anxiety gripped Serge's mind, as he bolted to where Leena sank. Serge groped for her in the murky water. When he found her, he carried her into his arms and deposited her on the lake bank, where she coughed mud through her lips.

"Leena!" cried Serge, as he drew a White and cast upon her the shield of recovery.

After the healing finished its magic, Leena began to fling her arms in hysteria. "I am fine!" she insisted stubbornly. "That Hydra! I shall have it diced up"-- she coughed violently and threw up more mud --"and mashed like a potato!"

Serge had her lie down and said, "Leena, Take a rest first."

He walked over to the dying Hydra and hauled its weight out of the lake to the bank. With the tip of his swallow, he made a small slit in the Hydra's body and plugged the vial into it to collect the humor. The Hydra howled eerily under the canopy of the Ba branches, as if it carried with it tears of disbelief and discontent. Distant echoes of the same howl returned, as if they carried the sympathy of the marshes and its inhabitants, who all cried with the dying Hydra. Even birds that sat atop the Ba branches looked down solemnly, as if in bereavement for their fellow living being, and as if in disgust for what its murderer had done. The Hydra regarded Serge with vengeful eyes, eyes that watered and trickled tears. As it drew its last breathe, the Hydra's gaze froze into a stare of the biting cold; a cold that seemed to pierce Serge's skin like the swallow pierced the Hydra's.

Serge turned away from the stares and minded the splitting aches in his arms and head.

Leena, miserably drenched in mud, had staggered over to Serge, panting. She fell onto her knees and placed a hand on Serge's shoulders for support.

"You've k-killed it?" she commented weakly. "G-Good."

"Are you all right?" asked Serge as he massaged his neck.

"Y-Yes," she stammered. "Bleah. I-I realize mud don't taste good."

Leena licked her tongue on her lips and spitted. She examined herself from head to toe in repulsion, for each part of her was covered in muddy water that still trickled down. Her dress that was completely soiled was now a uniform color of a gloomy gray. Patches of gray and brown stained her face, through which only the white of her eyes and her gritted teeth were most obvious. She sighed tiredly, as if resigned.

"You can wash up when we get back to your world's Guldove," said Serge. "I'm sorry."

"I understand, Serge," said Leena. "But... thank you for saving me."

"It was my blunder," Serge admitted. "I almost had you killed."

"I... B-But I am still alive and kicking!" She managed a little smile. "Besides, you've already saved me, didn't you?" she ended on a soft note.

Leena sat down wearily at the lake bank, rested her eyes and rubbed her temples. Following Leena, Serge sank to his bottoms and admired Leena, who seemed to him, more composed even after the close brush with the Hydra. When he saw that she seemed to have forgiven and forgotten, he felt guilty that he sent her forward first. And when he looked up into the Ba branches to see unrelenting stares from the birds, he felt guilty for the Hydra's death.

"I'm sorry that the Hydra has to go," said Serge, happy to know that Leena was beside him to share the stares of the marsh's seemingly unforgiving community. "It may have almost killed us both, but it was only defending itself."

"You think too much," said Leena and sneezed. "We cannot have everything in life. Do what you think is best for yourself and for the people around you, because they are the most important to you. Kid is more important to me than this vicious creature over here. Kid is more important to you than a Hydra, is that not right?"

"Yes, of course," agreed Serge with a nod.

"There's nothing to worry about, then. Even if the Gods send you to hell as a punishment, at least you know that you've saved Kid from their grasp."

Serge regarded Leena curiously with an eyebrow raised. Then, he walked up to the Hydra and unplugged from the Hydra's carcass the vial filled with the greenish humor.

"Er... Well, I am glad that we've found some humor for Kid, even though I think you look so stiff that you could use some of it." She coughed. Intentionally or not, Serge was not certain. "But now that we've settled even the moral issues, let's head back to my Guldove."

"Yes, let's," said Serge.

A wave of anticipation lifted his feet and set him fleeting over the marsh and towards Opassa Beach, through the waves of time into the other world and towards the other Guldove.

"She has passed the critical period," the doctor reported.

Serge heaved a sigh. The aches that he had gathered from the continuous runs, and that he had completely forgotten now began to seep into his skin. The aches soaked into his muscles and hung from them weights of thousand tons, like water that soaked cloth. His arms began to shiver and his legs began to wobble, as if they were about to crumble into dust under the sudden, invisible burden. But any pain was worth Kid's recovery, Serge strongly believed. Her well-being was the pillar of strength that he could lend as his support. Indeed, even if the invisible weight of the ache threatened to bring him to his knees, his undying desire to see Kid kept him upright.

Leena's had her hands cover her mouth. Tears of joy rolled down and cleansed her dirty, gray cheeks.

"Thank you," said Serge softly, reaching his aching hands to seize and shake the doctor's.

"No, it is I who must say thank you. She has held up well, but only thanks to you both. You have done the impossible by finding the antidote. And I still cannot believe it."

"Can we see her, doctor?" Serge asked.

"Just you alone," said the doctor. "It will be a little while before she falls asleep from the anesthetic."

"Thank you," Serge said gratefully. Turning around to Leena, he said, "Wait outside, Leena."

After Leena agreed, Serge strode into the patient's room and to Kid's bed. His legs screamed in his mind for a well-deserved rest and Serge let them. They finally gave way and brought his knees crashing onto the wooden floor. He was grateful they had faithfully served him well throughout his little journey and even had delivered him to Kid, despite having endured the past several moments in searing pain.

Kid turned from her side slowly to face him. Her lips and skin remained a ghostly pale, the sign of the tough relentless battle she had put up against the merciless poison. But Serge's keen eyes noticed something different, something glaring and seeking his attention, something that poured euphoria into his being. She wore a smile on her face that everyone, including Kid, had fought so hard for. Even if it was a smile weary and exhausted.

Kid laughed weakly. "You've become bloody handsome while I was out of it," she said slowly, with a soft, gentle voice that she had never once spoken with.

"Kid," he said with his left hand seizing hers, and his right caressing her forehead.

"I don't know all the details, but I heard what happened from the doctor." She paused for a while and blinked her eyes slowly. "Looks like there's been a lot going on while I was asleep. I guess it proves that you can take care of yourself now?"

A choking lump had gathered in his throat as he relished her delightful voice that he had once thought he would never hear again. The moving voice stirred torrents of emotions in his heart as much as it drowned his pains and aches. The soothing voice was to him divine medicine that healed his body and warmth his soul, more powerful than any Elemental magic of the Holy White could conjure up. This voice of a living angel had touched him and opened the gates in his eyes. A drop of tear rolled down each of his cheeks, a drop he did not even strive to wipe away. Tears soon flowed in streams and found their way to Serge's lips, streams of his feelings he did not want to hide.

"Oi, Serge," she said with that pleasant voice. "You did good, mate. But why don't you look cheerful for a change?"

She broke loose of Serge's grasp and reached her right hand to his cheek to wipe off the tears.

"I would've been alright without any antidote at all," she insisted.

"You are incorrigibly stubborn!" he reprimanded with a voice cracked and hoarse.

"Believe it or not, Serge," she said, smiling. "But now, I owe you one."

"Yes, you owe me one," he smiled through the screen of tears.

            He held her hand in his and watched her close her eyes to rest. He rubbed the back of her hand at his cheek and relished the warmth and smoothness of her touch in his delicate heart. He fixed his gaze upon Kid's face that now looked restful and calm, free of suffering, free from the poisoning. Serge's tears continued to flow, not tears of sadness but those which sprang from a fountain of joy.

The waves in the sea that splashed below the wooden floor splashed up a finale chorus of serenity, coaxing Serge into a state of dreaminess. The gentle accompaniment of metronome in the room ticked ceaselessly slowly, slowly counting down to the end of yet another day. The fiery sun outside the window rolled slowly off the horizon, as the curtain draw the act of this day to a close, as his eyelids fell upon his exhausted eyes.

As Serge drifted slowly away to sleep, he bid Death goodbye triumphantly once more.