Within Reach: New Beginnings, Old Places

Don't own Chrono Trigger. One day though...I still won't. Still the bestest game in the world, though. Personal opinion, folks. =)

Magus woke up to the musky warmth he remembered hating as a child. The scent brought memories back, and he could almost feel soft fingers stroking his forehead. He nuzzled the hand reflexively. But the hand wasn't very soft he realized, as he slowly woke up.

This realization snapped him back to awareness, and as his eyes opened and he looked, it was an earthbound checking his temperature. He thought that it might be female, if it could be considered such. He recoiled in disgust. It had been touching him. Worse, he had mistaken it for his sister. While feeling pathetic, he was angry at himself, and at the girl.

"Don't touch me, filth!" he snarled. He was sore, still, and his pride hurt. He felt his defeat even now. Of course, he wasn't sure how much time had passed exactly. He had blacked out in the maelstrom that was the rift. And the scream, that horrible screeching roar that had come with it.

His rest had not been easy. Nightmares abounded. Pain and loss accompanied his sleep. It still affected him even now.

The earthbound was apologizing. And bowing, and had backed up considerably. He had that effect on people. Even people as primitive and stupid as the earthbound.

"What are you still here for?" he asked, threat barely tinging his soft, deep voice. And that was all it took to send her, it, running. She was gone, and he could inspect himself.

He was surprised to find himself actually rather clean. Everything was. His clothing, his skin, and his hair as well. It was dirtier before he had gone through the rift. It was almost funny. Magus found himself chuckling ironically at this fact. For the earthbound themselves were quite filthy, and lived in squalor, yet had bothered to make sure he was spotless. He wondered where his cloak was. His appearance tended to stick out like a sore thumb, no matter where he was. Not that his cloak helped much, but it was better than people staring up at him and his pale skin and red eyes. A quick inspection of the room yielded it's secrets to his trained eye. He found it quickly, and it was also very clean. It was in a rough yet sturdy cupboard.

The cupboard strangely mirrored the people who inhabited this cave system. Roughly hewn yet built to last. They had even lasted longer than Zeal, as unadvanced as they were. But he remembered, the people of his home were elegent, yes, but also fragile and delicate. The most delicate of all, Schala. And he sighed. Until he realized.

An earthbound human had been taking care of him. And he stumbled over to the bed and sat down. Hard. This meant something, but it was taking his brain longer to process than usual. He couldn't quite grasp it. He was afraid to.

I could be home. Whispered his brain tauntingly. But no. I could be too early, was another thought, teasing him. He wasn't sure anymore. He had to find out. He wrapped his cloak around his shoulders, after putting his armor on, and boots, then put his scythe into negative space where it belonged when he wasn't using it.

His gloves were being adjusted as he walked out the door, and he almost trampled an elderly man who looked familiar who had been lurking outside his door. Not that he cared, these people were all so hirsute and short. Magus towered over them.

The room hushed as he entered it. Well. That was to be expected. It always happened. Since he had been a child. It was for other reasons now, though. He smirked, before frowning at the old man.

"What year is it?" he asked roughly, no compromise in his tone.

"Year?" gabbled the old man, panicked by him.

"Yes, year. Are you daft as well as ugly?" he snarled, having no patience whatsoever, and in dire need to know what he wanted to now.

"Well...um...," and the old man coughed sheepishly. "The enlightened have not bestowed what their years are upon us..."

"Wonderful..." and Magus sighed. This should have been expected. These people were barely better than cattle, after all.

"Of course, the royal family have recently found a power source in one of the caves nearby," said the old man, trying sincerely to be as helpful as he could be to his rude new guest.

"Power source?" the old man had his attention now. "What power source?"

"The princess has told us it has been called Lavos, but that is all we know of it," the old man told him. He acted as if it was some sort of rock, like the dreamstone that everyone in all times desired. And then the old man had made his dreams come true. He could almost have hugged him, but contact with anyone other than his sister had always disgusted him. He mentioned the princess.

"Is it Queen Zeal on the throne now?" he asked carefully, making sure not to mention his sister.

"Yes, it is indeed sir," nodded the old man.

"That will be all I require of you. I will be leaving shortly," Magus informed him, and he turned, looking around. He missed the relieved look the old man had. He wouldn't have cared anyways. "Now, how do I get out of this hovel?"

"We can show you out immediately if you like," the old man said immediately, jumping at the opportunity.

And that was that. He was almost out. He put up his hood, readying himself for the everlasting blizzard outside, old habits coming back to him. And it was in the entryway he was stopped in his tracks. It was as if the sun had come out from behind dark clouds. As if the long night he had been living in had finally ended. His dawn had arrived. But he held himself back. He knew his sister wouldn't recognize him anymore.

"My lady," said the old man, smiling. Everyone loved his sister. He was smiling from the depths of his hood, and was suddenly glad it hid his face.

"Hello," Schala said back, softly, in her sweet voice. "And who is this?" she asked, curious, and looking at him.

"He is a drifter, my lady, we rescued him from the blizzard a few miles southwest," responded the old man, as honestly as he could, and hiding his distaste.

"A pleasure to meet you, sir?" and Schala left the question hanging. She was trying to request his name, and she was shy.

As much as he wanted to tell her who he was, he knew he couldn't. She was only 16, if he was anywhere close to remembering correctly. He would be three around now. "I am Magus, my lady," is what he said instead, as gently as he could, not wanting to startle her.

"Magus?" said Schala, her nose crinkling slightly in confusion, as it was more of a title than a name.

"Indeed, my lady," he said pleasantly, basking in her company. He was getting surprised looks, for his brusquness had disappeared, and it was as if he was someone else suddenly. "And you are?" he decided to ask for good measure.

"My name is Schala, Sir Magus," Schala said.

"Just Magus, please," Magus corrected softly. "I am a mage, no knight." This earned him another confused look. There were no knights yet. "Not a guardian," he corrected, remembering the term used in Zeal for the warrior class.

"Oh," said Schala, weakly, overwhelmed by his presence, which still radiated from him, even when concealed and unknown.

"I am trying to reach Zeal, my lady, could you point me in the correct direction?" he asked, knowing he had to leave her presence.

"I can take you there," offered Schala, as polite and helpful as ever.

"I would be honored by that, my lady, but you don't have to cut short your visit for me," he offered, hoping she would anyways. And she did. She bid farewell, and promised to come back as soon as she could to the villagers. And they left, and there wasn't much conversation on their trek to the Skyway. She was shy, and he was still dumbfounded at his luck to be taken back home. And a few years before the completion of the Ocean Palace, at that. Maybe even before the Mammon Machine. He was excited. He was thinking of ways to make himself useful, so he could stay in Zeal, and not have to move on. And then they were there.

a/n: thanks for the review, it was lovely. And I am trying to remember to post often. Gotta get this outta my head fast. squeekers.