Chrono Cross Second Journey
Fan Novelization
Book 2
7 In Search of the Dragon Blue
mountain of dreary gray climbed toward the skies, its face chipped and eroded by the passing of age. The uniform blue of the heavens appeared ever paler against the dark of the mountain wall, as if the skies were overcast, rain were to fall. At the skirt of the vast range lay a shore of sand of unsightly brown, strewn with the litter of jet granite that had crumbled from the mountain slopes. The signs of life on this northeastern edge of the central continent were but a single crab scurrying towards the safety of the waters. The parched land had failed the growth of trees that were in abundance elsewhere on the central continent. The same land that looked dismal cast a premonition of peril that lurked somewhere within its dim caverns. None ventured in, for none could.
Legend spoke of the Fire Dragon God, one of the six divine Dragon Gods, who once dwelled in these caverns, in which fire burst from the within the deepest crusts of the earth in molten lava. Legend also spoke of its gracious descent from the heavens that brought upon the world light and warmth of the day in the emptiness of the cold, dark night. There was a time when He was revered by all. There were ages when the songs from the birds and fishes and all life on land sang of the following ancient verses:
The giver of life to us all,
The day has been,
Till the fall of night is seen.
The giver of warmth to us all,
The flame has been,
Till the winter takes all things green.
The God of Fire! We praise thee!
Let not the darkness take our lands,
Let us see!
The God of Fire! We praise thee!
Let not the coldness chill our hearts,
Set us free!
But so loudly on the mouths of men today pronounce the accusation of to this divine being whose legacy, they claimed, must have left behind a now faltering weather.
Already at few hundred feet from the shore the companions could feel the searing heat, far worse than the climate in this part of world, far worse than the fiery blazes of a thousand suns. Even the dragoons had seen it wise to dock their massive fleet of ten wooden vessels a mile before the shore. So great and callous was the heat that the tough walls of the mountains wavered like the soft of silk did in wind. As the travelers drew closer to their destination, they saw as much as they felt wave after another of drafts rippling from the cavern entrance. And whilst the heat rolled into them, the sounds of burning fire borne on the drafts roared in their ears. When their boat approached solid footing, none of the four dared set foot on the burning sands.
"The dragoons are here all right," observed Kid. "But how the bloody, burning hell did they get in!?"
"It puzzles me, too," said Glenn. "What would Lynx do to lead an army through fire if he had not the power of water? If anyone could douse the flames of Mount Pyre, the Water Dragon God could, but He remains only a legend in our history."
"God? And a Dragon at that?" sneered Kid. "Don't know about you guys, but I sure as hell need no Dragon God to get me through hot water." She chuckled at her own pun.
"Don't know about you guys," said Leena, as she fanned herself furiously, "but it is really getting hot here. Can I suggest that we row back, then talk?"
The rest of the companions looked blankly at each other, as if they knew of nothing to say.
"I am quite certain that we cannot go near it, now, can we?" said Leena. "Shall we move?"
Then from the air spoke a young lady's voice.
"Ooh-la-la," it said with a thick accent. "Leaving so soon already?"
An animated jester faded into sight, hovering effortlessly above the shores of the beach. Dressed in a loose, colorful suit, she appeared into view like did a tiny shard of the rainbow against the endless gray of the mountain walls. There she folded her arms across her chest and regarded the four travelers with a grin colored with the yellow of sunshine, and eyes brilliant as that of the twinkling star. Of the four companions, her eyes met Serge's the longest, and when they did, the more radiant did her smile become, oblivious to the heat from the cavern behind. The bells on the ends of her headdress tinkled and the loose of her suit fluttered with every draft of hot air, at them all she seemed to grimly relish.
"Have you come once again gloating at our predicament," said Serge, "Harle?"
"You have a sharp tongue, Serge!" said Harle, whose grin gradually turned sullen, as if she were deeply saddened by his remark. "So sharp it hurts!"
"Serge, let's just ignore this clown," begged Leena, while she tugged his sleeve, "let's just row out of here."
Harle raised an eyebrow, and then flipped in mid-air. When she turned upright once more, she bent forward and wagged a finger at Serge. "A man who wins the hearts of many, but also hurts them. Oh, how mean you can be, Serge!"
"Oi!" roared Kid. "If you have an arse itching for a scratch, trust us to give you a good, hard spanking. Or, in good old Common, get the hell out of our way."
Harle put a finger to her lip and looked up into the heavens in deep wonder. Then, as if she had unraveled a profound puzzle, she regarded Kid with light sparkling within her cheery eyes. "You would leave the comfort of your shell and take me on? I do not think so, O Dirty One! I would think, rather, Your Highness would chicken, no?"
Kid saw red and drew the dagger, the ferocity of her motion rocking the delicate wooden boat. She almost stood to her feet when Serge laid a hand on her shoulder.
"I would hear nothing else from you, Harle," said Serge as he stood and dipped an oar in the water. "Please leave."
"Oh, you would hear from me and of how to enter Mount Pyre," said Harle as she fixed a gaze on Serge. "Only the Water Dragon God may guide you. And to those who think He has forsaken our world,"--she shot a glance at Glenn--"He has not. He appears only to those who believe and those who seek."
"A treacherous lie, Serge!" warned Glenn. "It's a ploy to turn us away from here. Tell us how a ten thousand strong army could have discovered any God in a short span of time, and I shall reveal to us your true intention. Can you not see how laughable the remark is you have just made?"
"Lynx has prayed on behalf of them all and the Water Dragon God has answered. Is that not simple?"
"Why could you not pray for us instead? If you are, like what you seem, keen on helping."
"I cannot, for I already have the blessings of the Dragons."
"You have them, Indeed! But why is it not, if all Dragoons have been blessed, that I have not been put under that same charm? I feel fire on my flesh, and I can bear not to inch forward without the heat consuming my mind and body."
"When you begin to have faith, Glenn, the blessings of the Dragon God will protect you. Won't you like to try?"
For a moment Harle watched Glenn with a straight face, as if she waited for his response. With her brows raised, her simple challenge had become a test of much of him. His lack of courage would show if he chose not to proceed. His swear of solidarity would break should he choose to enter. Yet, he would be branded as indecisive should he fail to even answer.
"Faith. You have naught that I may trust."
The smile of brilliance returned to Harle's lips and eyes.
"I've said all there is to say and I shall take my leave. You either believe or you don't. You weigh the odds, you make your decision. In the meanwhile," her eyes flirted with Serge's before she threw at him a loud smacking kiss, "dream of me every night, yes?"
Harle faded from view and left a moment of silence and void, as if all color had suddenly forsaken the world and the four companions were left amidst in the gloom of gray. Then, a flustered Leena reached for the oar, pulled it to the water and began desperately rowing them from the heat. Glenn offered to relieve her, but Leena insisted otherwise with a lengthy demonstration of seemingly defiant cold and stubborn silence. Serge sat stunned for a moment, before he dug his swallow into the water and steered them away.
After a quarter of an hour, a mile from the shore, in the shade beside one of th ten dragoon ships, Leena stopped. She dumped the oar in the boat and began panting furiously. Her exhausted arms quivered.
"How can any of you bear that heat, I wonder?" she said and ended with a rough cough that brought tears to her eyes.
"Are you all right?" asked Glenn.
"I am, Glenn, thank you," she said with shaky hands covering her mouth. "I just needed to get away from the shore. I was barely breathing! It is no use. We can never get through Mount Pyre. Unless..."
"Unless we seek the Water Dragon God?" Serge finished. "It appears now that the question is no longer a matter of trust but of choice. And we have little to choose from."
"Or we can wait," suggested Leena. "The dragoons will not stay within forever. Lynx will have to come out eventually. Then we can confront him in open space."
"We can wait, but El Nido cannot," said Glenn. "Porre moves even as we speak."
"Should we trust her, then?" mused Leena. "That seems to me like the only way, although I remember much of the Water Dragon Isle is wasted. It's a barren land there."
"I say let our leader decide," said Kid, who had arms across her chest and who had kept unusually mum. "Where he chooses to go, we follow."
"What's wrong?" asked Serge.
Kid grunted, her face flushed as red as that of her wear. "What could be wrong? If you trust her that much, take her advice, then."
"Then I say we seek the Water Dragon God, is that fine with you Glenn?"
"You have my faith," pledged Glenn. "I shall follow you."
"Let us begin at the Water Dragon Isle."
An island once crowned with lush of greenery was now one that draped the yellow of withering. Each tree stood huddled amongst each other, and in such paleness they looked huddled in sickness and imminent death. Branch after branch their leaves were falling, layer after layer their colorless bark had peeled. When before the leaves served as shelter, in these trees colonies of birds built theirs nests and raised their young. This day, the dying branches were but the footrest of the passing flock of few. A great many trees had turned bald, and among those some had tipped, their crumbling roots too brittle to hold their massive weight. The mere fraction still struggling for survival against the harsh of the climate were fighting a losing battle.
Dubbed the Land of Springs, the pure of water once filled its rivers, ponds and lakes while the blue of heavens mirrored on their surfaces. Fresh and fragrant had been the air that one could breathe, like the cool and sweet of the dew in the dawn of spring. And dawn on this island one could have savored day and through night. But the Water Dragon Isle had fallen prey to the fierce weather. Slowly, the lakes and rivers from which its name was earned had desiccated, leaving deep pits of a dirty, ugly brown. With little water, much of the once soft coat of grass had gradually died. In no more than ten years, the isle that was once host to a scenic paradise of flora and fauna had reduced to a wasted pile too painful to behold.
When Serge set foot on such an isle, he had little hope that the Water Dragon God would dwell in such unearthly grounds. He stared at the environs both in shock and in disappointment. He did not recall that the same isle in his world had such terrible ill befall onto it, an ill that looked as if almost all was being forcefully stripped bare from it.
"What happened to this place?" asked Serge.
"A pity," said Leena forlornly. "I recall the time when I visited this place with my parents. It used to be so beautiful. There! That was the lake I almost slipped into when I was wee tall. And there! A great big tree beneath which I told Dad that was where we would have our picnic someday. We never did; and now everything else is gone."
Leena turned to Serge, who tried hard to avoid her eyes. "All that is beautiful is gone," she continued with a sigh. "All that remains is my memory."
Guilt stirred beneath his chest. And for a moment, the name of her father struggled in his throat, as if it struggled to be free, to be spoken.
"I am not surprised we won't find that so-called Water Dragon God here," said Kid, who cast an intentional glance at Serge, as if she tried to remind him of her counsel. "Look at this mess here!"
Kid walked past Serge, intentionally crashing her arm into his. Serge choked at the pain and swallowed all words.
The four ventured further into the isle, negotiating pits of empty lakes as deep as six feet tall. As they paced across the hardened sand, dust and gravel scratched noisily beneath their feet. The rays of the noon sun bombarded mercilessly upon them, and the stifling heat of the land lingered and stuffed their nasals.
A path cutting through a jungle of nearly bald trees led the companions into a clearing, in the middle of which the bare stem of a lone tree stood. The ground further beyond rose whilst the yellow of sand melted into the brown of the steep cliff, on it flourished a healthy pick of ferns and moss. The splash of green was to the eyes relief when all around it the many stretches of land saw the fading of life. But the same was to the mind mystery, a phenomenon incomprehensible by mortal logic. And more incomprehensible was an entrance carved into the cliff wall, an entrance sealed by what seemed like the clear block of ice. When touched by the light of day, its crystal clear surface scattered the sun's rays to a brilliant spectrum of flares, as if it did the same to its unforgiving heat.
A group of men chipped away gently at the ground and cliff with hammer and chisels, each occupied in their task, oblivious to the four companions who had come around. Kid ran up the slope, up to the seal, and laid a hand on it.
"The hell?" she yelled. "It's bloody cold!"
Leena regarded at Serge and Glenn with uncertainty. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, she dashed to where Kid was and began fanning herself.
"It's really cool here!" she exclaimed joyfully. "Come on up, you two!"
By now, the men who had been too busy at their chisel had taken notice of the company.
"A very good afternoon, Sirs, Fair Ladies," greeted one, as he walked up to Serge and Glenn. "Travelers, are you not? Are you here to sight-see? There's nothing left to marvel save for this little mountain side cliff."
"We seek the Water Dragon God," said Glenn. "Might you be aware of its existence?"
"You are looking for the Water Dragon God, too?"
"'Too?'"
"We are explorers from the mainland of Zenan, fascinated by the stories of El Nido, particularly those about these Dragon Gods. Thus, we have been searching for the Water Dragon God many a year now. But it has since yielded nothing of interest. That cave over there, we believe that it once was the entrance to the Dragon God's abode. But now that it has been sealed by ice, there no longer is any way to enter. We've hacked, we've blasted. No luck. Hard as a diamond, or so they say. So are the walls of the cliff, impervious to all. No one knows how that ice came about. According to some Arnian folks on the mainland, that ice has been there for the past ten years, about the same time when life on this isle began to die. It seemed to have appeared overnight. And magically, I hear!"
"Ten years," said Serge. "Much can happen in ten years."
It began to dawn on him that the figure of ten that had been re-appearing throughout his journey seemed more than anything of a coincidence.
"One can return to life in that time," finished Serge.
The explorer regarded Serge curiously. "I-I beg your pardon, Sir?"
"So," said Kid, as she jogged down to the men, "you don't really know if the Water Dragon God exists, do you?"
"Oh yes we know exists the Dragon Gods who, from what rumor tells us, can still be spotted now and then by the lucky eye. That the ice that should not be there is proof enough. We just don't know where He lives."
Kid grunted with disbelief. "It looks like we've been sent on a wild goose chase. What say you, Serge? Quite obviously, Harle can't be trusted."
"No, it is not a wild goose chase," said Serge as he looked up confidently with a gleam in his eye. "We just took the wrong fork." He turned to the explorer, bid him goodbye and wished them all a nice day. Then, quickly, he led his companions away from eyes and ears. The answer rang in his ears like the call of a voice that beckoned him. The answer charged his veins like the spark of intuition. He was all too certain where his feet would lead him. He was all too sure where the winds would blow, where the water flow.
"Wait up, you bloke!" yelled Kid, who tried hard to keep up. "Where the hell are you running to?"
"Come!" said Serge. "I'll show you! Where the Water Dragon God is!"
"What's in the world is the matter with you?" screamed Kid, exasperated.
"You'll find out when we get there."
The sun had fallen to mid-noon, its terrifying reign on the world slipping unhurriedly towards the horizon. As the disc of flames allowed despairingly the corners of the world to edge towards its demise, it watched with a keen glare the four travelers journey their distance on sea. As if wary of their undying resolve, it watched with them all a pair of unblinking eyes--one from the sky, the other from its reflection in the sea. And while it raged its assault on the lands and waters of the world, it left the air stiff and stale, choking on the lungs. It felt as if one were imprisoned between the ceiling of the sky and floor of the earth, as if locked away in tight quarters with no windows.
Less an a quarter of an hour since they left the shores of Water Dragon Isle, Serge had removed his bandana, under which his hair had been cooking from the heat, the strongest he felt in days in he spent this world. With a modest request and permission granted from the ladies on board, he removed his tops. Fire baked his torso whilst he rowed the companions to their destination, though much worse he would have to endure if he continued to don his vest of black. With a ventilated body came a calmer mind, with which he used to ponder over the day's events. Of the little that had occurred came the implications of a grander scale, all of which he traced to the divide of history a decade ago. Then again, as during every moment of his journey, he realized chillingly what little he knew of his own insignificant life, but how it dragged with it the fates of both worlds.
An hour into the journey, the shore of their destination slid towards them. A crowd of seagulls paraded the soft, white sands of the beach. Most hopped around on the beach, while others enjoyed a good bath and catch in the foaming waves. When the boat entered shallow waters, a small handful of the flock took off in a flutter to seek safer grounds, and above the travelers they flew towards the southern skies. The rest chose to remain, and with vigilance and care they watched.
"I see now," said Glenn, as their little boat closed toward the shore, "why you have brought us here."
"This is the cross point, isn't it?" said Kid, impressed. "Where even angels lose their way. The wormhole that connects the two worlds. But what makes you sure that the Water Dragon God exists in your world?"
"The isle is green with life, not yellow with death. If any place is possible, it's in my world."
"Then I can't wait to get to Serge's world!" exclaimed Leena, whose enthusiasm was bubbling like that of a little girl.
"Why is that?" asked Glenn.
"The weather there is just marvelous," replied Leena, her voice full of longing. "I find it hard to even describe to you. You'd have to feel it to like it!"
When the boat reached the shore of Opassa Beach, Serge dressed and the four alighted in the crowd of seagulls. Then, Serge walked to where he had been unconscious days before, where the door from this world opened to the other. This instant, the feathery flock that had chosen to stay now fled for the skies in a frantic departure, as if in their primal souls they sensed the coming of evil. Indeed, a shadow of green darkened against the white of sands when he approached, cast from nothing the naked eye could see. In its center a spot of jet black took form, within which the void of darkness could be felt from a good distance away. From the hole, flakes of white light drifted up aimlessly against the weight of fall, like the flight of little angels indeed lost and confused. And in his hands, the Astral Amulet turned warm, like the soft touch of another's hand that encouraged and led him towards the gate.
Serge gathered his team around the shadow, and said, "It might hurt. But nobody move until it's over, lest we reach the other world a limb short."
"Oi! Shouldn't we bring our boat across?" suggested Kid.
"It seems like a good idea," said Glenn, "since I would expect much to be different between this world and yours. It will save us time looking for transport. What will it be, Serge?"
"I do not suppose it will fit. I will not risk breaking it either way. Besides, we have transport available back home."
Serge bent and touched the Astral Amulet to the black hole, upon which water blast forth from the ground beneath them, shutting all within a column of spinning water. They soon plunged into darkness. Winds whistled past his ears, and when it gained strength, it howled like wolves in the late of night. Serge's body and soul stretched, as if they were about to tear. He gritted his teeth and endured the discomfort that seemed like the ripping of his muscles. Before long, the magic finished the last of its work, the veil of darkness lifted and revealed in all eyes the shapes and colors of Serge's World.
"Welcome to my world," introduced Serge.
"Hah! That's it?" Kid smirked.
Glenn tried to speak, but his lips managed at best chatters.
"Glenn is speechless," said Leena with a proud grin. "But this is no big deal to me."
"It is no big deal," Kid quickly added. "But to think that this other world really exists. You have got to see it to believe it."
"And I've seen nothing the likes of it!" exclaimed Glenn. "This world... So cool is the weather. And that long it has been since I have marveled at clouds in the sky!"
"See, Glenn? I told you!" said Leena who was all smiles.
"So, Serge," said Kid to Serge. "Paying a visit to your mom?"
"Just to let her know that I'm safe," said Serge. "From there, we take a ferry down south to the Water Dragon Isle."
"Welcome to Arni!" greeted a warm, familiar voice of the friendly old man at the gates of his home village. "Serge? Is that you? Been away days now. Everything all right?"
"Yes, I am, thank you," Serge replied with a smile.
The old man laughed heartily. "Livelier than ever, I see! Looks like traveling did you some good, eh? And I see you've got Leena with you on double dates, no? You cheeky little lad. But then, didn't I see you just at the pier, Leena? Ah! Forgive me! When you get old, you get mould, that's what they'll say. But it seems only yesterday I carried the both of you in my arms. Now, you're all grown up! Tell us when you two are ready to settle down, and we'll hold the grandest of weddings there is known to Arnian history."
Leena blushed. And under her breath she mumbled, "You are a little more talkative than I know, aren't you?"
"We have to go," said Serge, "I'll catch up with you again, when I return."
"But of course!" said the old man with laughter in his voice. "Don't let this old man hold you now! Go! Go!"
As Serge led his companions through his village, the odor of fish lingered heavily in the air, all too familiar to Serge's nose. What was to many an obnoxious stink was to Serge the magic of healing herbs, for it took away instantly troubles from his mind and all things too difficult to comprehend. When he stepped into his home, the wealth of sunlight that poured into the living room brightened his day. The voice of his mother seemed to his ears the gentle tinkles of a harp, her hug to him a symbol of strength and support. He said few words but with a big heart he said them adequately. After a short reunion, he left home satiated not with the fullness in his stomach, but in his heart. When he stepped out into the village, he saw in the village center the children run and laugh. And as they passed Serge they waved eagerly at him and at Leena. Serge returned with a smile and for a short, precious moment he found himself drowned in the innocence of their carefree joy. When he walked towards the sea, a soft, gentle breeze drifted in from the ocean, touched his face and like the cool of a morning mist it lifted his spirit and refreshed his soul. And as he stepped on to the sturdy pier, a slight drizzle began to fall.
Leena delighted herself in the light spray of shower, with a look on her face that seemed as if she wished to be pelted by a heavy storm.
"Look! It's raining!" she said with joy quivering in the tone of her words.
The other Leena--his childhood friend of seventeen years--who was spending her late afternoon gazing out lazily into the seas, took notice of the travelers, turned around and fixed her eyes on Serge. A sudden glow overwhelmed her face. And she dashed towards him, her footsteps thumped heavily on the woodwork, as if she were about to take down with her the entire pier. She halted barely a few feet from Serge, before she shyly lowered her gaze upon the moist brown of the planks. She reached for her neck and removed a necklace on which were chained the glittering of something familiar, something so beautiful that brought not the smile of awe but a rush of anxiety into Serge's heart.
"H-Hello, Leena," stammered Serge.
"I cannot believe my eyes," whispered Glenn, whose eyes examined the splitting image of his traveling companion.
"Look at this!" said his childhood friend. "My Komodo scale necklace. Our Komodo scale necklace. Beautiful, isn't it? Set it against the light and you see them sparkle! I finished it while you were away journeying. Now, I want you to have it. Take it, go on! Accept it like you will accept my apologies for how I reacted that day; how I overreacted. Take it!"
Leena stuffed the necklace into Serge's hands.
"These are your friends?" she said.
It was here that Serge wondered how the two Leena's had not yet seen each other. He turned around only to discover that Leena from the other world had hidden behind Serge's frame. She peeked over his shoulder, at the sight of which Serge's childhood friend gave a shocking gasp. Words failed her, and instantly the glow on her face had fled, as if it did from a terrifying ghost; pallor then washed up her neck, as if she were now the ghost.
"T-That girl... she looks like me!" said his childhood friend.
"Hel-lo!" greeted the other world's Leena with a stiff wave. "I'm Leena. Same name as you, quite obviously, but perhaps not to you. I, eh, I come from another world! A-another universe! We look the same and exactly the same because I'm like a mirror image of you, really. But it's deep and difficult to explain all at once. Serge! He can. He'll explain it to you, once this is all over, won't--"
"What the--" interrupted a voice that came from an old man who had been sitting at the end of the pier. Now, he sat with his head turned from his fishing line, a pipe fallen from his opened mouth. He stared wide-eyed at both Leenas. "Oh my freaking God save the freaking Beachbum. Is it me? Or are those twins?"
"They look the same," said Serge. "But really they are both different people."
"Save the explanation, Serge," conceded the fisherman quickly. He turned away, blinked his eyes and frowned. "I'm afraid my old heart can't take none of this!"
"I will. But I will also need your help to ferry us to the Water Dragon Isle. We can pay for your services."
"Both your father and I go way back, so don't be talking to me about money here. To the Water Dragon Isle, it is! I won't take a single gold from you or your mateys back there. But what business might you four have at the Water Dragon Isle? There's no treasure to hunt. There sure is no Water God to pray to."
"Our business there, too, takes time to explain," said Serge.
"In that case, I'd best not be asking too much!" laughed the fisherman. "Hop on then, travelers! Safe and comfortable will be your journey, I guarantee!"
"Thank you. You have my gratitude."
This while, Serge felt a cold hand lay on his arm. He turned to see beside him his childhood friend with a look of deep concern.
"Are you leaving again? Why don't you take a rest at home for the night? I can cook you some of your favorite dishes." She cast a quick furtive glance at the other Leena.
"I'm sorry, but I have urgent matters to attend to," explained Serge.
"Not even if I ask of you to stay?"
"I must go, Leena."
"I see. I don't know what's going on, but take care," said his world's Leena. Then she snatched the rainbow necklace from Serge's hand and tied it around his wrist. "You now have my best of luck and I can count on you to keep it safe, can't I?"
"Well, er, yes, of course," stuttered Serge, who, at that moment felt the sharp of cold stares pricking at his back. As Leena secured a knot of the necklace, in Serge's already difficult web of troubles she created many more of them, tight and entwined beyond disentanglement.
Serge urged his companions on board. As Kid hopped on the fisherman's boat, he saw between her brows deep creases of a tough frown, and saw in her blue eyes flames of resentment.
"Big man, he was, your father," said the fisherman, who had spent half the trip reliving sailing stories between Wazuki and himself. "Our catch for the day was this wide, and he broke no sweat hauling on it his shoulder, and then hanging it up to the village hammock, all by himself. I would think he had the strength to carry the two of me up if he wanted!"
"I remember very little of him," said Serge forlornly. "I wish he were still alive today. All these could all have been avoided."
"Fourteen years it has been, Serge! But I believe in fate--when your time comes, ain't no stopping it. Your father's time has come to him. Not you, not me can change that. You should take comfort in knowing that your father lived out his life fully. Unlike the rest of us folks in the village, he never wasted one moment. He had no regrets, I'm sure, to have done what he did to save your life. So don't go blaming yourself!"
"I understand. Even Mom refuses to talk about it. She wants me to forget, I suppose. And I did for the past fourteen years, but only to recall that tragedy at such a time."
"What makes you say such a thing?"
"I know that I must come to know of the truth someday, but the time of my knowledge is strange, almost uncanny. Something's happening, or at least so I think. Something huge, something dark."
"You lost me there, son. Does it have anything to do with the trip down to the Water Dragon Isle?"
"It has everything to do with everything. And every one of us travelers on board."
The fisherman cast a curious glance at the other three companions.
"Now that you say," said the fisherman who had his eyes on Glenn, "I haven't seen much of such armor these couple of years. You can't be from the Porre army, now, can you?"
"I am a member from the Acacia Dragoons," said Glenn. "May I ask what might have had you refer to Porre instead?"
"Ah, yes! The dragoons!" exclaimed the fisherman. "No wonder I thought your armor looked familiar. Pardon me. I've long forgotten about them since that blasted Porre took over three years ago. These days the military walks around in blue, and no longer in armor. And they carry these short fishing poles that kill with a shot! 'Rifles' they call them! Once or twice in the beginning I've seen them use it. Bloody is all I can say! They've stopped shooting for a long while now, but I've never stopped hating those spineless bastards. Just talking about them gets me boiling."
"But there's something I do not understand--Porre took over El Nido?" asked Glenn.
"Glenn," explained Serge, "the dragoons disappeared from El Nido just about three years ago. No one knows where they went or what had happened to them. Not all has gone though: Sir Radius, who has retired four years ago, is now chief of my village. Not even he seems to know what had happened, but everyone can tell that he is deeply saddened by the loss of the dragoons. He can be seen gazing into the sea in quiet solitude, and very often for the past few weeks."
"It is little wonder," said Glenn. "The time of the Viper Festival approaches this time of year. Like all other devas, Sir Radius loves the celebration. He does not have a family of his own, so the dragoons to him are his family. The general is to him his brother just as Riddel is to him, his own daughter."
Glenn paused and silence reigned. But at length, he spoke.
"So, it does not seem that all is wonderful in this world," concluded Glenn pragmatically. "Porre now rules this world with its might. And in time, Porre will rule the other. But have you, Serge, by any chance, heard news of my brother in this world?"
"Sir Dario? No, I haven't."
Glenn fell disappointedly silent.
"This world? The other world? What in the world!" interrupted this fisherman, confused.
"Would you care to hear an explanation?" asked Serge.
"No, from the looks on all your faces. Spare me that agony!"
"Then would you also promise to keep all that I have told you from Mom?"
"Only if you promise to let her know yourself."
"Yes, I will. But not now."
In an hour the gentle sun would set below the covers of the horizon, and into slumber the world would slip. On the sea, its reflection glittered as if at that distance lie a rich scatter of gold and silver. The orange veil of dusk had already begun to pull its cover over the lands, the trees and the four seas. Clouds drifted in streaks across the northern and eastern skies. More had amassed a formidable swell to the southeast, where the gray mist of rain like a curtain screen had shrouded that far edge of the world. There, an occasional bolt glowed in the heavens and the seas, then long moments later came the low rumbling of thunder. In this part of the world, however, the drizzle persisted in length and small strength, but now accompanied by the chill of gusty winds.
Once more the companions of four set their foot upon the grounds of Water Dragon Isle, this time in Serge's world. A tensed gap had wedged itself between the four and had set them apart in mind, if not in distance. But tension lifted when the eyes of the three who came from the other world marveled at the contrast of this place. The trees on this isle grew in health and in abundance, and looked like the tall pillars of a castle. Their long branches stretched like strong arms, and on them they bear the crown of the isle that glimmered in green, even with the coming of dusk. Under the protective arms, a soft carpet of grass thrived, stretched across the isle from edge to edge. From the burgeoning crowns, the winds plucked the leaves and showered them on the isle, as if autumn had arrived on this land.
Deeper within the isle where the forests of trees had opened to ponds and lakes, life prospered under the tint of golden sunset. Water trickled down terraces to pond and in tiny streams from ponds to lakes, some as wide as several hundred feet. Water lilies of darkened blue and red blossomed on their surfaces, while a gathering of hyacinths of washed blue populated in the calm of one small bay. Shrubs of papyrus crowded at the many edges of the lakes, amongst them an occasional pickerel with flowers of soft yellow blossomed. A giant turtle feasted slowly on an undisturbed bank a diet of fallen leaves, while schools of fishes swam busily in the lakes, twisting and turning over a bed grown with the abundance of leafy ferns and grass.
Further into the isle the companions walked, until they came to the clearing where the lone tree stood. It sprouted healthy leaves, and under its shade a habitat of poppycock gently swayed. Beyond the lone tree the land rose, and on its peek the same cavern overgrown with the lush of ferns and moss stood. In this world, however, its door was unsealed and inviting.
"There," said Serge as he pointed. "The entrance into the cavern of the isle where the Dragon God might dwell."
Kid jogged to it and investigated with thieving instincts her environs. After she signaled to her companions, she entered the cavern on swift, silent feet. When Serge entered, his eyes fed with awe the sights in it. Mist drifted and thrust and rolled low on the ground, as if he walked on clouds. Shards of crystallized ice poked through the rocky ceiling and the ground, as if like bushes and thickets they grew. Flakes of white fell like snow from the ceiling, and in the darkness they magically glowed, as if stars fell from the heavens. Even as Kid led the company further into the cavern, the fair light never once dimmed or blinked. Their path soon turned and fell several feet. Thereafter, one step after another it descended lower, until it walked the companions to an archway where the mist had turned thick as a fog.
The four entered the archway that tunneled through the ground. As they walked they put a hand on the moist walls, for the cold fog blurred their vision many feet ahead. Many steps after twisting and turning, the fog cleared. They emerged in a room shaped as a dome, in the middle of the which, a huge dragon creature rested its rounded chin on its arms. A stream of river flowed around the dragon's bed of stone, and from it cold mist boiled and bubbled. But all eyes fell on the creature, whose shape resembled that of a toad, but whose size swelled to a high of ten feet and a long of twenty. A shimmering blue coated its wrinkled skin, as if underneath it surged the blue of water. Every breath it took, a resounding gurgle shook the room; every breath it expelled, it expelled more clouds of mist.
"What in the blazes is that?" asked Kid.
"Could that be the Water Dragon God?" Glenn.
"That?" Kid. "It's one nasty looking God."
"One shall not judge a book by its cover, young lady," it spoke with a voice, stern and grave.
Kid frowned, unimpressed.
The Dragon God opened its eyes and observed the little beings before him. Slowly, it raised its head and shifted its eyes, until it fell heavily on Serge. It watched, scanned and then with a squint it shot a glance at Serge, sharp and cold like the blade of a sword. Serge felt a curt twinge in his left arm, as if it were sliced by the well-wielded steel. A clutch of pain gripped his shoulder, the sudden jerk having strained his muscles. Beatings assailed his arm in waves and throbs, like the punch of an enemy who attacked where it hurt most. Yet, under the intensity Serge maintained his unwavering stand. He met the dragon eye to eye, until the mammoth being's lips stretched to an approving smile.
"Welcome, Serge," said the creature warmly. "Now, come towards me. You need not explain yourself. I know already what you seek here. There is naught to be surprised about. It is but a trifle for us Sleeping Dragons who have dwelt upon this land for ages."
"You are the Dragon God indeed?" asked Serge.
"Many think that we have perished; many more think we are but mere legends. But this day, I appear in mind and in body before your very eyes. It is not for you to choose to believe; believe you must! For only with my guidance will you safely walk through Mount Pyre, home to the Fire Dragon. Unless you quench his red blazes, it will prove an impossible journey. Take my blessings that will freeze even the melting of lava."
The fresh of morning wakening suddenly flowed in Serge's veins, as if he had rested for hours without the bat of an eye. The sharp pain in Serge's arm numbed and then, gradually receded, as if his arm were healed by a touch, awkward yet magical. Around him and around his companions a warm aura of azure bathed them, and through it Serge's world had turned a soft, pale blue. For that moment, his head swam behind his eyes, as if he now sat in the boat rocking upon bumpy waves. Serge blinked his eyes and away the light faded. He shook his head, and shook away the feeling of disarray. Yet, as the magic faded in sight and touch, an unsettling stir welled up in his heart, as if he anticipated a feeling of ill that was to come.
Leena and Glenn drew breaths and looked at each other, as if puzzled, yet as if astonished. Only Kid stood her ground, arms folded across her chest, unfazed by all that had happened before her.
"Only one trip it shall avail you to and from Mount Pyre," said the Dragon God, "and one is all you need."
Gentle silence fell, save for the soft bubbling of mist around the Water Dragon God. But soon, the Dragon God prompted, "Speak your mind, as you would to a dear friend."
"We found you only in my world but not in the other," said Glenn respectfully. "Why do the Dragon Gods, or at least you, the Water Dragon God, exist in only one, world when all other mortals live on in either?"
"A great misfortune befell upon the Dragon Gods of this world--Serge's world--ten years before when the one world divided in twain. Into thin air they vanished, not by their choice, but by a twist of events. For bound were their fates to a chain; a chain that, too, disappeared from this world. But these two worlds were bound to each other like heaven is to earth, like sibling is to another. Obligated are we to oversee each world. Thus, the Dragon Gods of the other world chose to divide our presence, three to each world: the Water, Earth, and Green in this world; the Sky, Shadow and Fire in the other."
"Then tell us," asked Kid boldly, "why have you hidden your great, fat arse from us folks?"
"To hide is an act of cowardice. To stay unseen is one of deliberation. We Sleeping Dragons have long chosen not to show ourselves but to live on in songs and in lore. Those who believe in us shall find their spirits fulfilled; those who do not live their lives the lesser. Yet, blessed are them all with no prejudice, even in our absence. But now the tide turns, the moon shifts, and the hour has come when the crimson star will rise in the eastern sky. Great evils soon will befall, all of which you must bear. For the Dragon Gods to stay unseen would be to stay hidden. Rather, we shall wake and see all through these dark times."
"Why then have you granted Lynx and Harle your blessings?" added Glenn. "Surely you must be aware of their dark schemes."
"Darker than the dark of night! Treachery must be dealt not with folly but with diligence. We must look many steps ahead, for evil is already there. See not of the blessing as an aid to evil, but its defeat that shall come in due time. All that now remains is you, Serge. To hide or to show yourself is left for you to decide. Will you change this world or will this world change you? Will you live with your mother planet or will you turn your back on the planet and tread another path?"
Serge swallowed past a lump in his throat. He was uncertain if the Dragon God spoke of encouragement or otherwise. But he was sure more troubles now lay on his already troubled mind.
"You will find out soon enough. Now go!"
Kid left the Dragon God's dwelling as unsettled as she expected Serge to be. A part of her was in denial that ever such a divine being could exist, when she spent most of her life believing otherwise. Gods, angels and the likes of it all were figments of imaginations by living people, wishful thinking or otherwise. So sure she was of her own belief that she still insisted that what she had seen and spoken with must have been an oversized toad, swelled to such a size by the luxury of feasting. So sure she was that those spirits that she had seen aboard the S. S. Invincible must have been dust and fog coincidentally shaped by the wind to take the form of living beings. Yet, she imposed none of these beliefs on her companions, at least not for the moment, for they looked hopelessly smitten by the hideous being who called itself a god.
The other part of her saw Serge's eyes, which spoke of woes borne upon his young shoulders. One after another they had come to him as towering waves, and one after another he stood bravely against them. Even when the waves slammed down onto him, he refused to fall beneath its crushing weight. He kept the burdens to himself and saved none for the rest of his company. So small he had become in Kid's eyes in the fight against the colossal that he seemed like a crab that scuttled hopelessly against the tide of life. Yet so large he had become in her heart that he was to her a hero of sorts, a man she so admired. And so large he was that it tore her knowing she could help in nothing. And torn she was when her eyes fell upon the Komodo scale necklace on his wrist. She wrestled with her feelings but eventually wrenched her gaze away.
The company made camp in the shelter of the cavern, furthest from the Dragon's dwelling. Serge and Glenn started a fire that burned readily above the mists flowing on the ground. Leena served dry rations while Kid kept vigilant watch. Two hours after the sun had set, the drizzle stopped. Within the cavern the fair light of magic glowed from the flakes of ice, each drifting down like feathers, gentle and light. But through the cavern mouth, the black of night beyond gaped, as if the world outside was a world now trapped with a cavern.
After dinner she leaned against the cavern wall, a good distance from Serge. Her eyes wandered inch to inch in the cavern ceiling, while her mind dreamt about Lynx's fall. She would not let him off easily, and she must deliver unto him by the skilful thrust of her dagger the most painful death. She could see the agony in his face, with a satisfaction that curled her lips wryly. She could hear him begging for death before the darkness would claim him. She could feel a rush in her veins, and already her fingers itched for the hilt.
It had only been five years ago, some would say. But long and lonely were those years for Kid, each day as long as a wretched lifetime. She recalled all that happened that fateful night, a night she could and would never forget.
That awful night began with Sis' peculiar behavior, speaking to herself in her own room. When Kid stole a glance into her room, she saw in Sis' eyes pallor of fear, and a gun gripped tightly in her hand to be used against no one Kid could see. Though sanity seemed to have forsaken Sis, Kid knew concern and love and assurance would bring them back to her. Yet, before she could offer words to warm and calm Sis' heart, she was shut out from the room, as she was shut from Sis' world.
Then moment the demi-human entered their house, he had entrenched his rotten feet deep into her life. He came not asking for riches but the key to a mysterious Frozen Flame, caged behind locks. His talk confused the eleven-year-old girl, as much as the catch of his gaze terrified her. It cuffed her hands and legs and froze her every motion, however hard she tried to resist. When Sis refused the key, the demi-human came for her hungrily, and settled his furry paws on her neck, its claws pricking into her skin. Then, he lifted her up by her neck.
Kid's throat dried, and she felt as if her eyes were about to burst. She tried to scream, but heard no words through her cords.
Sis demanded Lynx to cease. But when her demands went unheard, she ran to him and pulled and yanked him by his dark, bulky uniform even if his weight was too much for her strength. Lynx swung his free paw into Sis's face and sent her flying many feet back. Sis tumbled to the ground with a crash and a subdued yell. But against the pain, Sis leapt to her feet and charged towards Lynx. She pounced onto his back with stare of fury and the dark of lunacy in her eyes, and with a powerful arm, she crunched Lynx at his neck. This instant, Lynx dropped Kid and struggled against his assailant on his rear.
Kid, powerless and petrified, could only sit on hurt bottoms and watch terror unfold.
Lynx ran backwards, and in his effort to loose his attacker, he threw his mass against the wooden wall, slamming Sis into it. The wall shook and cracked and dust fell from the ceiling, while lamps, knocked off their hook, fell and crashed. Flames exploded and towered and consumed. Concerned not of the fire and only with his aims, Lynx crushed mercilessly his enemy between his body and the breaking wall. Yet, with her legs locked around Lynx's waist, Sis' held stubbornly fast, even if her eyes had rolled up and even if she was falling into unconsciousness. Her thick, dark-rimmed glasses slipped off her nose and left behind a bruised and battered face. Blood trickled from her mouth, but not even a shriek of pain escaped her tightened lips. And one more time when Lynx slammed, the weakened wall gave way. Lynx fell back to the ground with Sis crushed beneath him.
Meanwhile the flames devoured the home as if it did Kid's life. Room after room the fire spread, carpet over carpet its legs walked, and wall upon wall it slapped its long, ugly fingers. On the ceiling a horrifying sea of flame raged and eroded. Soon a portion of the burning ceiling fell before her eyes and crashed heavily on the ground, sending up flakes of burning splinters. Walls softened, turned to ash and crumbled upon themselves. Edges of canvas of drawings curled at the lick of the flame, while paintings fell from melting hooks. Smoke rose and clouded, choking her nose and drying an already sore throat.
All around, her friends screamed, some for fear, some for Sis. Some ran, some fled, and others desperately cried and jumped for attention behind traps of flames. Kid struggled up, and on her fours she crawled around and helped her friends out of traps. But as the fire spread, it cornered some into hopelessness and took many more silently into its light of gold. She tore herself decisively away from the dread and fumbled back to where Lynx and Sis lied. Fear turned to terror when she discovered neither of them there, but Sis' thick glasses. She forged further on her fours until she came to a door. She pushed while the heat on it scalded her hands. Beyond the door in the far wall of the room, she saw Lynx unscathed amongst the flames, looking out into dark of night through a window and supporting Sis by her waist.
Then, he turned to Kid with a grin on his face, sly as that of a fox.
Kid opened her eyes to the campfire dancing in her eyes to find that she had fallen asleep against the cavern wall. She rubbed her eyes and her cheeks of the tears, even if she could not rub the soreness in her heart at the end of the dreadful memory.
"What happened?" asked Serge, who walked to her and sat beside her.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" she asked.
"I heard you crying for 'Sis,'" he said. "Is there anything that I can help?"
Kid sighed softly. She picked up a leaf from the ground threw it into the campfire and then stared long into it.
"Kid?" spoke Serge again. "Are you alright?"
Kid stood and walked out of the cavern under the glittering stars. She gazed at the silver moon, half shining in light, half blended into the night. She stared at the smaller red, partially hidden within the shadow of its brighter counterpart. She ventured four steps more, before she realized she could not bear the emptiness of darkness chewing at her heart. She retreated and leaned her back on one side of the entrance, where at least she could see light from within the cavern in her eyes and the ground beneath her feet.
Serge joined her and leaned against the other side of the entrance, facing her.
"I had a dream again. The same dream every time."
Serge listened attentively, and with his gentle eyes he encouraged her to continue.
"It may be time I told you this, Serge," she said. "I was an orphan. I was abandoned when I was a baby. There was someone who took me in and raised me as if I were her own little sister. I'm alive here today thanks to her. There were a lot of others like me at Sis's Orphanage of the Flame.
"Sis was always making strange stuff. Call her an inventor, call her a scientist. 'A mad scientist am I. Mad but great,' she would often laugh and say. She made things and sold them for a living. She even wrote things she called theories and had them published. She conducted at him her experiments that probably only the smartest can understand. Many times they didn't work. But she would try and try again until they worked, or until she realized she's barking up the wrong tree. Many times the devices she boasted would save the world ended up in the dump. But she was hardly discouraged.
"We were always poor, but we--my friends and I--were all happy. Up until that Lynx bastard came. Five years ago, he raided our house and kidnapped Sis. The orphanage went up in flames. So did many of my friends. Sis... She never came back."
Tears welled in Kid eyes. She turned to the light in the cavern, anxious to hide her weakness from him. But they flowed and rolled down her cheeks disobediently.
"Kid..." said Serge softly.
Kid swallowed hard to contain her sadness and warmth and touch by his voice.
"Since then," she continued, "I've wandered the world and experienced so much pain. Just to get by. No one was there to help me. I was always alone. If you ask me, the idea of guardian angels watching over us all the time, that's a load of rubbish!
"In this world, the underhanded always gets the last laugh. Only the ones who don't think anything of hurting others are the ones who get blood-stained fortunes. The ones who kill, the ones who devour, they're the ones who survive. That's the only rule of this world. The great species of man? Our wonderful world, filled with love and happiness? Don't make me laugh! But if that's how it is, that's fine with me. As long as I'm alive, there ain't no going back. I'll abide by this world's rules, and do what I got to do despite the rotten hand of cards I've been dealt. I'll make sure that bloody bastard pays for what he's done! I will get mean! I will get even!"
Kid was carried away and was lost in grief and denial. Vulgarities blemished the sentence of every ferocious thought in her mind, and the foul of them all she so desired to spew. Her consciousness snapped back to reality, when suddenly she was given an embrace. That instant, fury overwhelmed her, for she did not realize from whom came the audacious touch of flesh. But at the sight of Serge's bandana she calmed and let the fleeting moment of rage pass. For the first time, she felt in whole his concern at her cheek, her arms, and from her chest deep beneath it. She felt his support that was to her warm and secure, as if it were to hold her from slipping into despair, slipping away from him.
"Kid..." he spoke with a voice, gentle, unwavering, "I will help you in every way I can. That I can promise, if only you will promise me this: When this is all over, allow me to show you that the world is still beautiful."
"Already it is, Serge!" Kid sobbed softly on hearing the simple, wonderful words. "Already it is!"
The two started a fire near the beach. They lied on their backs and nursed their tears while they stargazed.
"There's nothing between me and Leena. Both Leenas."
"What makes you say that?"
"I was afraid you'd be hurt."
"What about that necklace?"
"The necklace means to me nothing more than friendship for Leena. If you would like me to take it off, I will."
When Serge began to untie the knot, Kid laid a hand on his wrist.
"Don't!" she said. "Leave it on. It means the world to her."
"It'll mean nothing to me if you are upset. You looked terrible this afternoon."
"Look, I'd be frank with you," she said calmly. "I knew about you and your childhood friend in this world, but I had no idea how close the two of you were. And you, Serge, never told me nothing. I was upset and angry."
"I'm sorry."
"No. I am! I never felt anything like that before, so I didn't know how to handle it. But hey, I'm fine now!"
Part of her understood that she lied, but she did only not to trouble Serge. Already those he had to face now were more than he could handle. The other part of her would really love to see that necklace taken off and tossed far away into the seas. And let it be lost amidst the vastness! For the scales were to her a thorn in her flesh, scratching and pricking ceaselessly; its splash of colors a veil pulled over to blind Serge from ugly truths within, that ultimately meant that its owner never once was suitable for him. So this while she became aware of the bitter feelings of jealousy, whose lingering after-tastes swelled beyond her heart and the darkest thoughts of selfish rivalry. But eventually, she wrenched herself away from the tempting desires to, with all measures despicable or otherwise, steal Serge away. No good it would bring but another obstacle to their difficult journey.
"Oi, Serge. You now know a lot about me, don't you?"
"What about?"
"About me and my Radical Dreamers."
"There's still plenty that I do not."
"Like what?"
Serge rolled to face her and on his arm he supported his head.
"Well..., like the name 'Radical Dreamers.' Are there many of you?"
"There's only one who started Radical Dreamers. You can say that the name was inspired by Sis. She once said, 'From fish to ape, from ape to man, we have always been dreamers of life.' I haven't the slightest idea what she meant then, but I thought I belonged to one of those who dreamt of leading a proper life. So I started out stealing for myself. Later, I began donating loot to the charity, because I thought there must be many who are more unfortunate that I am. Couple of years ago I got in a few of us, but they turned their backs on me. Bloody bastards they were--squealed on me. I was put behind bars, but, you know, nothing can keep me in for long. I fled. Since then, it's I, my, me."
Kid paused in thought.
"Until now," she said softly and she glanced at Serge. "You won't let me down, will you?"
Serge hesitated. "Do you remember the dream I once told you about?"
"What dream?"
"I will hurt you. I will stick a dagger into you and then I will watch you bleed."
Kid snorted. "Don't go worrying about no dream. Haven't you heard? Dreams are fake."
"After all that has happened, you still cannot believe? Kid, in that dream I saw your face and the same clothes you wear now, before I even met you."
Kid laughed derisively. "When the worst comes, I'll just have to kill you," she joked.
"You do, Kid, you do. Otherwise it'll be you."
"Come on! Don't sound like you'd really poke me. I have my trust in you, so don't go denting it now."
They spent the next few hours on the beach, talking and chatting about their strange and sorrowful pasts. Time flew, and soon the first of light broke in the east. The dark of blue slowly swept across the dome, as it did over the vast ocean. Patches of clouds blotted the sky, while a gray mass of them could be seen still gathered far in the southeast. Half of an hour into dawn, the sun peeked from the rim of the world, as it slowly made its laborious climb into the sky. Its light cast the color of life into the trees, the sand and the living things, as it resurrected the earth from the dead of night. An eagle descended from its swift flight and disappeared into the forests of the isle, from which flocks of birds took to the skies.
Then, from amongst the waking trees came two anxious voices calling for their names.
"Serge! Kid!" screamed Leena and Glenn.
Said Serge to Kid, "It's time to go."
She raised her brows. Unhurriedly she stood up, hands to her waist, gazing beyond the blue of the skies.
"Showdown time," she said.