CHRONO TRIGGER DIMENSIONS
by
Jerm

Chapter 6

"I should have known," King Guardia said, slowly sinking back into his now righted chair, "I doubt anything short of divine intervention could separate those two."

The king had calmed down by now and, after hearing the chancellor, he felt that he was in control again. He would just get his daughter back and he could deal with the monster attack and the Medinians.

"Should I send a guard to get her?" the chancellor asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Guardia said, waving the chancellor off. The chancellor nodded, turning to leave.

The king sat down on his bed and thought. Nadia had always been able to avoid a normal guard. Guardia need her back as fast as possible. Would a guard or two really be enough? There were too many problems surrounding Guardia at the moment and he hadto have her back quickly, before things turned bad. He would have to try something a little extreme if he wanted her back.

"I've a better idea," the king spoke up suddenly, startling the chancellor at the door, "Send The Marshal with a few troops."

"The Marshal?" the chancellor asked, his hand leaving the door as he slowly turned to face the king.

"You should know my daughter as well as me, old friend. She'll evade a normal guard or even an army of them. We need the best. Send for The Marshal."

The chancellor stood waiting for a few seconds, as if hoping the king would change his mind. When the king remained silent, the chancellor sighed, "So you still believe him innocent..."

"Yes," the king nodded, "Yes, I do now."

"But does Nadia?" the chancellor questioned.

The king shook his head, "It doesn't matter. I need to have her back now, there's only one person that could do such a thing. Whether she thinks of him as a monster or not doesn't matter, because he willbring her back. 'The Marshal nevers fails,' if I remember..."

The chancellor nodded slowly, "Consider it done, then, Your Majesty," he turned and left, shutting the door softly behind him.

When the chancellor was gone the king sighed, "Why must you flee me even now, my daughter?"

x x x x x

The chancellor entered the tavern, where there were already several other men. The other men were shouting and laughing...and drinking. Several eyes turned his way and the chancellor wished he hadn't worn such rich garb. Sure, the people wouldn't think of mugging someone of such high rank, but he disliked attention.

Two men at a table were arm wrestling. One definitely had the upper hand, but he was just toying with his opponent. Suddenly, the stronger man grunted in pain and his arm was forced to the ground. The earlier underdog stood up in victory as people began cursing and giving money to others.

The loser was angry though. He stood up and yelled, "He cheated! He kicked me in the leg!"

"Don't be a sore loser," the now rich winner said haughtily, "You just lost your concentration."

"Then let's see how you react when youlose something-" the loser was interrupted by a new voice.

"Let's settle this outside," the bartender said, looking up from whatever he had been doing.

The bartender was by far the largest man in the room. Standing at just around seven feet tall, and every inch was muscle, he was someone you didn't want to argue with. He had a trimmed moustache that covered a lightly tanned face. Adorning him was a wide traveler's cloak that could easily be draped about him fully. The chancellor thought for a moment he could see a glint from inside that cloak.

There was obviously something in there, but no one bothered to ask what it was.

The chancellor walked up to the bar as the losing arm wrestler smiled and picked up the cheater. The cheater whimpered as he was carried outside.

"What do you want?" the bartender asked, returning to his task, which was simply whittling on a hunk of firewood with a knife.

"I'm looking for a man who goes by the title of The Marshal," the chancellor whispered, sitting down on a dirty chair at the currently empty counter.

"So you are, huh?" the man tilted his head curiously, "I take it from your dress that you're from the castle. Am I right?"

"I am His Majesty's chancellor," the chancellor whispered back, trying not to let others overhear.

"I thought The Marshal was considered a bandit by the king..." the bartender mused, "Are you going to arrest him?"

"No, I've been sent to offer him a new job."

The bartender laughed, "The Marshal retired years ago, afterthe king destroyed his life... over a mistake."

"He never retired," the chancellor leaned forward, "He merely went underground with his job. He's still out there and I need his help."

"Why would he want to help the king then?"

"It may have been a mistake," the chancellor continued, "but that doesn't mean it can't be fixed."

"Mistakes always remain, whether you see their effects or not," the bartender shook his head, "The Marshal no longer works."

The chancellor sighed and delved into his pockets. He produced several gold coins and put them on the table.

"An assignment from the king pays good," the chancellor said slyly, sliding the money across the table, "I know who you are; let's drop this 'he' business, shall we?"

"If he's the king, he'll know that The Marshal only does the best work. Best work means best pay," the bartender seemed to ignore the jab by the chancellor and went straight to the point, "Got my point?"

The chancellor pulled out a bag of gold and laid it on the table. Then he pulled out two more. Business is business.

"Only four?" the bartender didn't seem impressed.

"It's a small task, hardly comparing to your finer works."

The bartender thought it over, then made his decision, "Okay, I'm closing now!" He quickly began hiding the bags under the counter, "Everyone out."

Several people mumbled obscenities while others decided not to argue and left. One man piped up however, "What are we to do for the rest of the evening then?"

"You can watch the fight outside," the bartender replied calmly.

"But it's already over! You wouldn't expect Gary to last more than half a minute."

"Ifthat," someone added, then hurried out the door before anybody saw him.

The bartender leaned over his counter, "Look, I don't have time for whiners. If you are so worried about the fight being over, I can take you out front and start another. Now are you going to leave?"

The veins in the bartender's neck were bulging and his face was turning red. Obviously, he didn't want to lose the money the king was paying him.

The upstart left quickly and the bartender went over and locked the door. He turned to the chancellor. His face was normal again. The angry man must have been a routine, the chancellor realized.

"So what do you say?" the chancellor asked as the bartender walked back around the counter.

"...I hate to do this, I've been able to resituate my life after that incident and I don't want to ruin it..." The Marshal was hesitant, thinking back at the money offered, "But this place doesn't pay good for money."

"And?"

The Marshal smiled and quickly deposited the gold in his cloak, "And I'm bored. So what do you want me to do?" he asked.

x x x x x

Lucca finished crossing the bridge and headed toward her house. She had to work on this right away. It had actually worked. Not in the way she had intended, but it had worked. If she could modify it just a little, she might be able to fix the problem and be able to send herself through time.

Then she could see if Robo existed.

A feeling of giddiness washed over her as she reached the gatekeeper, which was still intact. She sighed in relief, there had been a chance that the golem could have destroyed it when it came.

She bent over it and began looking for anything that might have had to do with the delay. She opened up the circuit board and was about to alternate it when she remembered that she didn't have any tools. Touching electronics with your bare hands will accomplish nothing.

She got up and ran toward her house, tripping on the loose wire she had scattered around. She regained her footing and reached the door. She opened it and raced inside toward her room. It was dark, but she didn't bother to turn on the lights. She was only interested in the tools.

Lucca stumbled on the stairs again and banged her knee against a step. But she merely grimaced and continued. She opened the door to her room and entered, looking for her tools.

She glanced around, but she couldn't see them. They weren't where she had left them or anywhere near. If they were lost...

"Looking for something?"

Lucca whirled at the voice, but she didn't see anything. Only the door. She was about to contribute the voice to stress and continue her search when she saw some movement from where the voice had come from.

She gasped. It looked like the Grim Reaper itself.

She fought down her fear and stared harder at the figure, trying to force her eyes to adjust faster. The thing in front of her was covered in black robes, which had made it invisible in the dark. She then noticed that it was carrying her toolbelt.

"Maybe these?" the figure asked, jingling the objects in its hand.

"Who are you?" Lucca asked backing away.

The figure advanced, matching her retreating steps. It raised a cloaked arm, letting the tools dangle from an extremely pale hand. It chuckled.

"My name is Nikades...as if you would know or understand."

Lucca backed against the wall. She felt atop her dresser for her gun, but it wasn't there.

Nikades stopped advancing and held up its other hand. In it was her gun, "I would say that you're looking for this, too, hmmm?"

The hand closed around the gun. When it reopened, the gun was nothing but a sphere of metal, perfectly round and smooth. Lucca shivered, having a fear that she would be next.

"What do you want with me?" Lucca asked as she looked for a way to escape.

"There are two things I want you for," the figure said as it dropped the mangled gun, "One: I wish to thank you."

"W-Why thank me?" Lucca asked backing up against the far corner and reaching back for the door.

"It is you who released me." Nikades smiled, "Brought me back from my world of torment."

"The Gatekeeper..." Lucca whispered fearfully.

"If that is what you call it."

A step forward. Towards her.

"...And two: You are the only one who could send me back. I must make sure that that does not happen."

The figure advanced again.

Lucca pressed herself against the door, fearing what was to become of her. She grasped the handle and tried to turn. It was locked. She was trapped.