CHAPTER EIGHT

Siblings Reunion

Back in his cell, Janus hung even higher from the ground. The shackles have already drained the blood from his hands, causing sharp pains and a numbing sensation to his hands. The twine continued to cut thinly through the corners of his mouth and agonizing pain from his wrists holding up his weight, began causing his lungs to close up, reducing the intake of air into his body. He knew that he was slowly suffocating, similar to being crucified but he didn't care. He also knew that his hands ached, his gagged mouth caused more discomfort with his already suffocating position, and his head was still causing him to be disoriented do to the king's blow. Yet, he didn't notice any of it.

Lost and defeated, the prince hung in his cell, unmoving. His pale skin added to the perspective that he was lifeless. Janus recalled, as he has been doing for the past hour, the look in Schala's emerald eyes. Did she notice he was her younger brother? This wasn't what he wanted; not at all.

The wizard wanted to curse himself for his impatient foolishness but doing so wouldn't help him in the slightest. In fact, cursing his already cursed life wouldn't be the best move for him. Still, an assault on the king's men is an assault on the king. The soldier could have had him sentenced to beheading then and there, but now, after he actually assaulted the king, his chances of living a longer life has been reduced to nothing.

Wait. Maybe that law hasn't been invented, Janus beamed at that thought, appearing full of life. His head drooped a moment later. With my luck, I'm the cause of them creating that law.

In the opposite cell, Crono leaned against the bars, resting his head on his forearm. Janus couldn't talk or move around but his body language spoke volumes to the swordsman. How their captors imprisoned his friend seemed very painful but he knew the pride of the prince wouldn't allow him to show any weakness. Crono believed that it would take all of his discipline not to even whimper if he was placed in that position. It appeared to Crono, that it wasn't Janus's strong will that kept him from withering in pain; it was the lack of spirit.

The swordsman sighed, completely at a loss. All he wanted was to help the people around him, yet all he really accomplished was leading all of his friends into danger. Gazing upon Janus, who seemed to have given up, he knew he would be losing another friend and there was nothing he could do to stop it. His only hope lied in one merciful soul.

"Do I know you?" asked the princess behind a cloaked figure.

"Yes…" the man responded, gliding when he turned around. "And no. You may have seen me but we haven't been introduced your majesty. I am called, Prophet."

Enwrapped in a large cloak, hood drawn, turned the pale man. He stood tall, his aura of pride making him appear as a giant. To the princess, he held himself high with a dark energy but for some reason unknown to her, she did not fear him.

"I feel as if we meet somewhere before," she declared.

Pulling back his hood, Prophet looked deeply into her eyes, showing her his own red, cold eyes. He didn't want to scare her, only to show her that he wasn't someone she wanted to be around, let alone get to know. Unmoving, the princess pondered where she met this albino looking man. He sneered, she jumped.

Drawing up his hood to block out the sting of the sun, he spun back around and walked away, believing the conversation closed. The princess remained where she was, watching him go. Figuring she didn't know him or if she even wanted to, the princess turned around and left in the opposite direction. The wind changed, cold and dreary, which made her glance over her shoulder. Prophet seemed to mirror her, gazing into her very being. A scream came from all around.

"JANUS!"

Schala awoke with a start, her mind racing to remember the fading dream and all that had transpired this evening. Within moments, her husband rushed in and embraced her closely, whispering kind words in her ear. She struggled to hold the dream but she could only focus on the two prisoners from earlier. The pale skin Zealian was indeed Prophet and no other but Crono could have that out-of-control red, spiked hair. How could they be in the future? She shook her head, not bothering with questions that could be answered from the source.

"Where are the two men?" she immediately asked.

"Both are in captivity. The red headed one will receive a second hearing, but at dawn, the blue haired assassin will be hung."

"NO! You can't do that Harold!" Schala screamed, pushing her husband away.

Harold could have resisted her shove, for he was five times stronger than she but never would he go against her wishes, also the sheer anger in her voice shocked him more than a little. However, he recovered quickly, giving his wife a puzzled look. She had never raised her voice to him or anyone for that matter. So why would she snap at him because of a lowly assassin?

"I'm sorry my love. It's just… do you trust me?" she said while gazing at the floor, ashamed at how childish she seemed. After a long moment of silence, she looked back up and saw Harold staring at her, as if the question was absurd. They made a vow that they would love, honor, and cherish each other. Gazing upon the man who has believed her since the day that they met; that he truly believed that she was once a princess of the past, of the magical kingdom of Zeal, she knew then that he would always believe her, that he would always trust her.

"Remember when I told you I'm not from here? I believe the blue haired man is Prophet while… it's difficult to believe but the red haired one is Crono."

"The man who nobly sacrificed himself to save you and his comrades from the beast's breathing weapon attack?"

"Yes. I must know what is going on. Please," Schala pouted.

It was a bad idea, he knew, for the one called Prophet tried to hurt or even kill him and the thought of him being alone with his wife was already driving him insane. He would have to be by her side when the two criminals have their meeting with her.

"I've sentenced Prophet to death," the king stated, matter-of-factly.

"I pardon him," Schala replied without skipping a beat.

A rat scurried between the swordsman's feet and into the vile latrine. Crono didn't care, more focused on his last living friend, who seemed far away at the moment. Seeing Janus defeated only made him feel angry. The prince reminded himself about his own moment of weakness on Mt. Masamune. His death would've given him relief, he thought, but the guardian of Limbo shown him that in killing himself would create dire consequences. What if Janus giving up is viewed as suicide?

"Some loving brother you are!" barked Crono, enraged by his last thoughts. The prince head snapped up, staring daggers at the swordsman.

"What did you expect? Schala is a loving soul and wouldn't have given her heart to just anyone. So who cares if he is magicless, there must been a reason she chosen him. Neither you, nor anyone else, can decide who she falls in love with," the swordsman paused for a minute, letting his words settle. "What would Schala think if you killed the man she loves…the father of her child?"

The lecture set the prince aback. He didn't know what to think of Crono and his words towards his foolishness but those words were a bit enlightening. Janus never thought about what his sister wanted but only focused his energy on his own position. Realizing his selfishness, he shut his eyes, cursing himself for his rash actions and not thinking with his head.

The swordsman nodded to himself, seeing the life return to the prince. He couldn't believe how hard he was on his friend and the realization that he hurt someone he cared about for his own selfish fears, disturbed him. I'm sorry, Janus, but maybe now you will fight for your life.

"Introducing his majesty, King Harold Gaurdia," hollered a guard, bringing both prisoners out of their thoughts. The royalist entered the hall and shifted his eyes between the two men.

"Crono?" he asked the red-headed man. After a nod in agreement, the king turned to the blue-headed man. "Prophet?"

Janus didn't answer immediately. His sister must have told the king to call him that or she truly didn't believe he was her brother. It didn't matter to the prince. Janus set his violet eyes on the king, searching for acceptance. This man before him was magicless; barbaric due to his huge frame and he was in need of a shave. With a sigh, the prince realized no one would be good enough for his sister. At least he has royal blood.

After the wizard gave his nod, the king announced. "They are pardoned of all crimes against them," and to the prisoners. "The queen believes neither of you will attack either of us. I will have both your words that you won't. Her majesty wishes to speak with you two, so it is in your best interest not to pose a threat to this kingdom again."

The duo gazed at each other and then back at the king. In unison, they nodded. Guards opened both the cells with Crono stepping out but keeping a good distance from the king. A knight walked up to Janus with a dagger and carefully cut the twine from his mouth and moved along to a crank to lower the wizard down. Finally, the knight unlocked the shackles, freeing the prince completely.

The feeling of freedom wasn't pleasant for Janus. Blood began to rush back into his hands; his lungs were on fire and his mouth continued to bleed from the corners of his lips. The prince thought he heard the king say "let's go" but the darkness began to engulf him. Gritting his teeth, he refused to give in but the pain was too much for him to bear. He collapsed, face first to the stone floor, shattering his nose in a hundred bits. He didn't notice.

The picture was an exacted duplicate of the lost prince of Zeal, Schala's baby brother, which rested in a locket that the queen rarely removed. Beside it were a blank parchment and some chalk and charcoal. Curiosity peek her on. Never before did she think to draw Janus Zeal as a grown man. First she began with an oval, sharp at the bottom, just like her father's chin. Then she created a 'V' at the top, similar to her father's willow peek.

The rest of the face came to her smoothly, as handsome as she knew her cute brother would become. In the middle of the picture, half-way done with the nose, a thought came to her. What if life wasn't kind to him, that he may have been thrown into a harsh environment? Chalking out and lightening up the brow, she began to give the face a more malnourished look. Keeping the skin as white as snow, she caved in the eyes and shadowed the eyelids. Lifting his cheeks to form a bonier appearance, she finished off the face by thinning the lips. The resemblance was uncanny.

The queen of Gaurdia dropped the charcoal and sprinted out of her room, through the hall, and down the stairs. Thousands of thoughts and emotions swirled inside of her but she knew that she had to get to Crono and Prophet. If Prophet was her brother, she now understood why he attacked Harold, for Janus was always a protective lot. If he had the chance, he might attack Harold again and if he harmed the king of Gaurdia, she couldn't stop the wheels of law from spinning. She would lose Janus again.

She stopped her run in the doorframe leading into the throne room, seeing Harold escorting Crono who had Prophet draped across his shoulders. Immediately Schala rushed over to the unconscious Zealian and softly chanted a spell. Her hand began to glow a soft green before she laid her hand on the prince. All wounds began to mend but Janus remained unconscious. With child, she dared not offer anymore magic.

"Come, let's get him comfortable," Schala stated, taking the lead and returning from which she came.

Crono followed shortly after, yet the king remained behind. Something about the sorrow in his wife's eyes game him pause. What he had heard from Schala, Prophet was a wise and dark wizard, a man she didn't want to know. So why did she seemed to care so much for him now? Shaking his head of the speculations, he would get his answer in time.

A light hazed his vision, causing a halo upon a lone figure. Curls of blue danced on her shoulders and emerald green eyes gazed into his, opening his heart to the tranquil feeling of seeing her. A broad smile spread across his face, feeling the warmth of love that he hadn't felt in a decade. It had to be a dream, so he reached up to touch the angel's face, expecting her to vanish. His frozen hand warmed suddenly, as the blood in her cheek began to share her body heat to his hand.

His eyes widened in shock; she didn't disappear and she was warm to the touch. Enwrapping her like a child who hasn't seen his parents in months, he held on tight, praying for this dream to never end. Tears began to roll down his bony cheeks. His eyes stung from that foreign action but he didn't mind. All that mattered was this moment.

"So, it must be true. He must be your brother," a gruff voice said from the prince's left.

Whipping his head up in alert, Janus saw the speaker, the first King of Gaurdia, sitting in a chair by a large vanity. Behind his sister stood his comrade-in-arms, with a soft smile across his face. It was all coming back to him and this wasn't a dream. He really was holding his sister and if he wanted to continue to keep that smile on her face, he had to calm immediately from the embarrassing situation. Swallowing his pride, he brushed away his tears and rose from the bed, waiting for someone to break the silence.

"Crono told us everything, even though I have a hard time believing some parts of his story. The only thing he couldn't tell us in detail is your life in the Middle Ages," Schala smiled at her brother.

"In Crono's time period, as he and his friends were ignorant enough to call the 'Present', they were from the First Millennium. We were born, according to history as the Dark Ages. This time period will be known as the Dominic Age. But the time period I was thrown into was a barbaric age, so yes, one would say I grew up in the Middle Ages."

"I still can't believe it. Y… you really are my baby brother," Schala stammered, getting up to stare into his violet eyes.

"Not exactly baby brother anymore. We're separated by a few years now," the prince replied with a snicker.

"Please, I would like to hear about your life. Surviving the Mystics must have been something," she softly asked. The prince backed away from her as if she had the plaque. He couldn't tell her all the dark deeds he's done. Even if it was just to survive and to find his way back to her. This was exactly the reason he'd stayed quiet while around Schala when he was the Prophet back in the Dark Ages.

"I can't. Let's just say, I had a rough childhood," he finished, wrapping himself in his cloak.

"I doubt it could be all that bad. You ran a group of creatures into a war with our descendants," Harold jabbed in.

"Gaurdia was already at war," Janus snapped back. "Also, I had no idea King Gaurdia the Thirteenth was a Zealian!"

"They worshiped you as a king or god. They killed in your name!"

"Because they were fools! Do you think if I truly ran the mystics that I would continue that war!"

That final statement brought a smile to the king's face. The prince became slack jawed at the simple, obvious trap he fell into. Harold knew Janus wouldn't open up unless he was backed into a corner and most importantly, regardless with all the evil he has done, he didn't wish harm on anyone. The best part of it all, his sister may not wish to push the conversation forward, which in turn would make him appear to be someone she would want to be near. All thanks to this man he was quick to judge because of his blood. With a nod, the prince silently thanked the king, who returned that nod.

"What about you?" asked Janus, taking full advantage of the distraction. "How did you get here?"

"When I sent you, Marle, and Frog away from the Ocean Palace, Lavos tore open several more gates. I fell into one and ended up in the middle of a war. Harold saved me," Schala smiled at her husband as she continued to reminisce that day. "He said, 'an angel has appeared' and then he jumped in front of me and fought off all who were around. Ever since, I guess I found my knight in shiny armor. But… I didn't care for the war…"

"So she stopped it!" the king bellowed, while slapping Crono in the back. "A grand peace came a few years later. We're even building a cathedral, along with this castle, because of the religion that the west brought over."

Janus digested it all. He knew his sister would be a great leader if she put her mind to it but he still couldn't believe she could unite two countries. Unlike he who may not have wanted the war in the Middle Ages but neither did he do anything to stop it. His sins were more from the things he didn't do, rather than the things he did do. Another reason his sister would not be proud of him.

"I'm proud of you. Crono told us how brave you were while ridding the future of Lavos and protecting that future for our descendants. Also, you said that I could help bring back your lost friends."

Staring to his comrade, the prince was beginning to wonder how long he been out and how much the swordsman told them. Crono has done much more for the wizard than anyone he knew, himself included. Now he was united with his sister and just being with her for such a brief time, he felt that the swordsman should be rewarded but the fact was…

"Perhaps. It's a long shot but do you have a Chrono Trigger or know how to make one?" the prince asked his sister.

The queen looked at him in shock. Only the Guru of Time would have the knowledge for such an instrument and they would spend their entire lifetime creating one. Gazing into her brother's cold violet eyes, she could see that he knew it was a guess and now he wished it wasn't so. Turning to the man that saved her life, she could see that she was his only hope. Schala closed her eyes and shook her head.

The prince swung around to his comrade and for the first time, the swordsman appeared defeated to the wizard. His body slumped to the chair next to Janus, his face reversed from his usual grin to a scowl. He lost everyone he has ever cared about and to make matters worst, he was the one who lead them to their graves.

The sight tugged at the wizard. A memory came to him then, one of a beautiful woman with long flowing purple hair and huge spectacles. It made no sense to him before on why he loved her and missed her so. They were opposites, from different worlds, yet he had never felt more complete when he was by her side. Her intellect match his own but their belief made them clash more than once, with her belief always siding with science, a magic he hated to admit that it was far beyond him, and his belief of elemental force magic was better than her science.

Lucca. The name still sent a sting into Janus's soul. Love never made sense to the wizard but love was of the heart, and the heart, his heart, never led him astray. He always followed his heart, even if it was the love of his sister that pushed him on to find her again or the pain of loss that set his sights on the beast known as Lavos. But he had to admit to himself, and his heart, that in following his beliefs and rage may have cost him more than he wanted. Lavos's defeat was satisfying but was Lucca's life worth his own selfish desires?

"I figured as much. Then we move on to plan B," he paused to see everyone's reactions. Harold's expression never changed but Crono's head popped up in a second, hearing another string of hope be announced. Schala, too, brightened on what Janus had in mind.

"Back in the Dark Ages, I came across a temple that held our father's spirit, Schala. His soul seems to be tormented and only together can we free his…"

"Let's go then," Schala interrupted, clapping her hands together.

"You can't my love. I'm sorry to hear about your father but you can't leave your kingdom behind. Besides, you are in no condition to go anywhere,' Harold protested immediately.

"But…"

"No Schala, your husband is right. It maybe moot anyways. I returned to the temple after treating Crono from some wounds he endured," the prince paused again, keeping his audience focused on him. "The temple was deserted. I figure this one character that goes by the name, Noah, has done something to our father but I can't be sure. So I need to burrow the darkest, most magical room in this castle."

"No," Schala gasped and then forcefully said, "No!"

"What is it love?" the king asked, knowing his wife's tone all too well.

"He wishes to perform a summoning," she stated, getting a clarifying nod from her brother.

Both Crono and Harold seemed confused at the statement but the look Janus and Schala exchanged to one another told them it was serious. Knowing Janus as Crono does, every action the wizard had ever done was serious… and dangerous.

"You'll have to trust me," the prince grinned. Now it was official to the swordsman, for whenever the wizard grinned or said 'trust me', it meant one thing. Trouble.