Chapter I: The Millennial Fair

Truce awoke with the sun. Its people lived in the light – died in the night. And every morning the sunrise would reveal the townsfolk, walking to his workplace, breakfasting, cleaning house. Light fueled the residents – some days when there wasn't as much light, the people would never be able to work. But bright, sunny days were the energizer of the town.

This morning would obviously be an energizer, apparent even before the sun peeked his head over the ocean. For this was the Millennial Fair, another excuse to celebrate. For if there are no heroes to adulate, no pioneers to remember, no mythology to recreate, we'll find another party to start. And what better reason to throw a party than to celebrate such a memorable year as 1000? – if not in history, than in number.

The sun continued to rise and warm the earth. Faster now, work, play faster now. The light is here. The heat is on. The colors of pavilions, decorations, costumes, swirling and twirling in a mad spiral. A song of cacophony – laughing, screaming, chatting, mixing together in one large wash of sound. The light is here. The heat is on. Feel the air, fresh and warm, massaging your back, neck, face, shoulders. Breathe it in, smell the hundreds of unnamable confections every aspiring cook has imagined into being.

From far away all is mad. Swirling, swirling, twirling – light, noise, air, people leaping across the square, flying from side to side, or only sitting to restore the spent energy. And the music played faster. The people walked brisker. The tents grew larger. And in it all, one stray balloon escaped the hand of its child, free at last – to soar in the open air and meet the sun and stars. As it cleared the chaos of the square, it shuddered some, then exploded in a sudden but spectacular bang.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Chrono."

A bell chimed in the distance.

"Chrono."

A woman's voice. Calling softly. She sat in a chair beside a bed.

"Wake up, Chrono."

The woman sighed, stood, and went to the curtain. Whoosh! – the light flooded the little bedroom, revealing what seemed to be a disheveled broom, dyed red, sleeping on the pillow.

"Chrono, wake up!" She was calling a little louder now. "You remember what today is… Chrono."

The broom sat up with a start, suddenly attached to a body. The boy blinked quite a few times from the invasive sun and shook his head, his red wisps reflecting the light.

"Did you not sleep well? I suppose you were so excited about the fair that you didn't get to sleep at all. Well, good morning, Chrono. I made you a breakfast, since you slept in so late." The woman left.

The boy rubbed his eyes a few times, then opened them wide, revealing two shimmering emeralds taking in the surroundings. After a beat, he suddenly remembered who he was and why he was in the bed. He threw off the blanket and leapt onto the floor. Well, his head was more awake then the rest of him, so he ended up taking a nose dive to the ground.

He almost walked out his bedroom door before he remembered that he never dressed himself. In a flash, he was at his dresser selecting the day's fashion. That is, if he had ever cared about his looks. He was always lucky enough to be a pleasant looking boy, so he never needed upkeep on appearance. Even then, who would he try to impress? Sure, some ladies may have found his forest green eyes to be powerful, or his freckled complexion to be cute, or his face to be well set and stern – small, strong nose – thin, bony jaw. Maybe that's as far as they looked. But sometimes they would go farther in trying to imagine the pieces he always protected. None of them knew that, underneath his tunic, he was a tall, wiry, and undeniably wimpy fellow. He didn't have an inch of meat from his neck to his navel. Though he knew his own strength, the size of his legs and arms would never convince the thrill-seeking female.

The boy started his day's attire with a white form-fitting shirt, which was always hilarious to him. After all, he had no "form" to fit. He always joked of how he could dangle a string from his collar to his feet and never touch anything on the way down. Once he had his chuckle, he slipped on his loose blue pants. He threw on a large blue vest over the top, taking care to double-tie each knot. And for the final touch, he wrapped a white bandana around his head to keep the wild hair from interfering with his vision. A quick look in the desktop mirror satisfied him, and he strode out his room and down the stairs.

"Ah, Chrono, there you are. And about time. Breakfast is ready." His mom was already about, setting the table for two.

"I'm not very hungry," the boy mused.

"You shouldn't eat a lot anyway if you're going to the fair. You'll get sick to your stomach. Just have something so you don't pass out from starvation." Mom set out two plates and sat down.

The boy sat shortly after, eyeing a sizzling plate of eggs and bacon. But not even the salty, sultry scent of the bacon could get his mind off the fair. Every boy loves a fair, whether he be 6 or 60, or 19 years old like Chrono. The boy poked his eggs around in a circle for a few minutes, painting his plate with grease. He stared at the food for a few moments, then took a tentative bite. After another moment, he took another bite. Soon he had finished an entire slice of bacon.

"I don't think I can eat any more, Mom." He seemed lost in thought.

His mother brushed golden-white hair out of her eyes. "Please, just eat some of the egg. Then you can go to the fair."

The boy paused, then slowly lifted a forkful of egg to his lips. He held it there for a couple of seconds, as if he were put in a trance. Those green eyes were staring at something nobody could see. Then, in a snap, the boy returned to his home and shoved the food in his mouth. Two bites later, he pushed his chair back and stood.

"Thanks for making breakfast."

"Are you leaving already, Chrono?" The boy only smiled. "Don't forget. Lucca will be waiting for you at the fair. She wouldn't tell me what she cooked up for you, but don't be surprised if it involves humor at your expense." The woman smiled at her son. "Have fun, and behave."

"I will, Mom." The boy went to his old mother, kissed her on the cheek, and disappeared into the light.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Chrono shielded his eyes from the sun at first. Oh, it was a bright day. And it was a great day. Fun was always a high point for him, being a teenaged male. Sometimes he felt guilty for enjoying "child-oriented" entertainment. After all, now that he was nineteen, he should be an adult living on his own. Living with his mother brought him plenty of ridicule. Wasn't there one other factor in the townsfolk's disapproval? Ah, yes, he was poor. Sure, lots of people were poor – but Chrono was different, they said. Poor family, no father to support the family, and a wiry boy who can't keep a job longer than a month.

He winced at the thought but kept his head up. Today was for pleasure first, regardless of the people around. Chrono stretched in the sun, then sped away to the fair.

Stepping into the fair was stepping into a portal. All of a sudden he was no longer in Truce, but in a magical world, the world at Leene Square. Frantic costumes, dizzy children, clanging bells, all assaulted Chrono's senses. Soon he could not even remember the direction he came from. Everyone behind the stalls seemed unnaturally interested in him - or at least in his pocketbook - while those in front seemed not to notice the boy. He knew that would be usual; even though he stood out like a redcoat in a forest, nobody in a crowd full of excitement would pick him out for a good time. Good, too. I'm not here for entertainment.

He stopped for a minute to get his bearings. After all, he wasn't here to be immersed in the experience of the millenium. In this crowd, he would take a long time to find Lucca's little sideshow. Didn't she say it was at the north side of the fair? And which side was that? Well, it wouldn't open for another hour at the least. That gave him quite some time to enjoy himself. And enjoy himself he would. If he couldn't find something fun near him, he had only to walk ten feet to find something else.

"Hey, you there!"

Chrono turned, surprised. A man was addressing him. Some old guy - actually, his age was indeterminable, but old was not a bad guess.

"Step right up. Test your strength! Here's the hammer, there's the bell, take a swing and give 'em – "

"No thanks," Chrono cut him off, though the game looked attractive.

"Won't cost a thing. You seem a strong young man. Look at those muscles! Why, this should be simple for someone of your stature!"

Immediately Chrono knew he was lying – everyone could see he was no muscleman. That's what everyone else said. But what if – what if they were all blind? This man, he seemed sincere. He was a nice guy. Sure, he was exaggerating - most old guys did that. But this man told the truth - he was the one who saw the true Chrono.

The boy stepped up to the tower, doing his best professional imitation. "So," he said nonchalantly, "all I do is hit the hammer here?" He pointed to a mark.

"Sure. And the harder you swing, the higher this indicator will rise. If it hits the bell, you win!"

"Win what?"

"You'll see…"

Oh, he was smooth. But Chrono would play his game anyway. What would it hurt? Come on, he was taking too long! Just hit the mark. What would you lose?

"Having second thoughts?"

"No." Chrono lifted the hammer high in the air, and the entire fair went silent. Nothing mattered any more except that mark. He brought the hammer down in a gigantic swing, his ears delighted to hear the thud of the mallet on the mark. The indicator rose higher and higher – and then stopped – below the halfway mark. It fell to the earth almost as fast as Chrono's smile.

The fair roared to life again. "Sorry boy – you didn't make it. Would you like to try again?"

Chrono couldn't believe it. He had to do it again. Maybe he made a mistake in the swing. Maybe he missed the mark. But he could prove he was strong! Then again, the man was so smooth, so shrewd. He didn't want to look stupid again…

"Nah."

It was an effort for Chrono to saunter away looking disinterested. Every face seemed to stare at him – the failure, he couldn't even hit the bell. Thought he was so strong, didn't he. Well, he wasn't. Look at those skinny little arms – he grabbed one just for show – look how wimpy they were!

Chrono wandered to the fountain and sat down. Ah, well, you can't win them all… he'd try something else. Maybe Lucca's sideshow was set up. He had no idea what she'd invented this time, but he was sure it was spectacular. Well, maybe not, but he still loved her anyway. Sometimes he thought he only enjoyed her performances as a friend, but surely someone else thought she was brilliant. She always provided some excitement, especially in the blowouts. Chrono found himself laughing. Yes, her successes weren't as spectacular as her failures.

He wiped his eyes and stretched. He should probably check to see if Lucca was ready for him. Before he could stand up, he caught out of the corner of his eye, some old woman. Usually this would not bother him, but in that instant, he saw the wildly swinging handbag. Chrono tried to duck or move – but it was too late. Smack! – upside the head with a handbag which could only be full of cement – followed by a splash! – as Chrono fell into the fountain.

Chrono was relieved that not very many people seemed to notice, and more relieved that no one cared. He tried to pretend that he fell in on purpose, but he had never been a great liar. At least he carried nothing valuable, aside from his pride, which was probably still flattened under that mallet.

Chrono wrung out his clothes over the fountain and shook his hair semi-dry. Now he couldn't wait for Lucca's sideshow. Wherever it was. Say, which way was it anyway?

"Hey!" Chrono shouted. Or, somewhat shouted. "Um, excuse me, folks… people…" he tried flagging down the passersby. "Hello!" Naturally he got a few stares. "Um, I need some help!" Finally some young lady stopped – finally someone with a sense of kindness. Chrono smiled in spite of his… attire. "I need to know where Lucca is setting up her sideshow."

The young lady looked suddenly annoyed. "She's setting up at the north side."

Chrono frowned. "Thanks." I already knew that! The lady started to walk away. "Oh, wait. Which way is north?"

This lady was a master at looking annoyed. She pointed behind Chrono. "That way! But she isn't ready yet. She probably will never be. Hah!" Instantly she was gone, in the sea of people.

Chrono stared after her a long, cruel moment, then turned and headed the other way. This whole stupid place! Ah! They just make me so frustrated. This fair isn't all these people make it out to be!

But he wasn't done with disaster yet. "Look out, kid!" Chrono looked up to see ten people charging at him. "Kid, you're in the way – you'll be trampled!"

Now I've done it! I've run right into the middle of a race! In a flash of brilliance, Chrono leapt nimbly to the side – right into a little garden of sticker brushes. He stood for a few seconds in dumb shock, then leapt just as nimbly back onto the path by a stairway. Ah! My pants – they're almost completely torn! I wouldn't be surprised if I cut myself! - He bent down to inspect his pant legs… and banged his head on the handrail for the stairs. Chrono took a deep breath for a moment, then sat down on the lowest stair, holding his head. I don't know which is worse – having them all notice me killing myself, or having them ignore me. Well, it can only get better from here.

After his little headache subsided, Chrono stood and limped up the stairs. And, just his luck, another sideshow game! But he could that this might be more beneficial to his health.

"Step right up for Soda Guzzling!" an extremely buff looking man bellowed. He saw Chrono eyeing the drinks. "Ah, the next victim! Come right up! How many glasses can you drink in ten seconds?" Apparently he didn't notice or didn't care about Chrono's appearance. "Anyone else, or just this brave young man? You, sir, in the glasses? Miss, what about you? No, yes, you!" Chrono liked this guy already. "That's two! One more? Yes! We have ourselves a contest!"

The big man set down three small glasses in front of the contestants and filled them with bubbling brown liquid. "Okay – here's how it goes. I say go, and you drink as much as you can in ten seconds. If you finish a glass, I refill it. Whoever drinks the most glasses, wins. Ready, ready, GO!"

Chrono guzzled his first glass greedily – and it was instantly replaced with another. And another. And another. Soon Chrono was getting cross-eyed. "I think we have a winner!" the big man boomed. "Are you going to be all right, kid? You inhaled almost eight glasses of this stuff."

The boy only nodded – and let out a burp arguably the best in length and amplitude... ever. He was met with hearty laughter from all attending, including himself. He stood, stretched, and turned to leave. "Going already?" the big man asked. Chrono turned to reply, but tripped over a chair behind him. He lay sprawled on the ground for a good three seconds before he started laughing again. "Say, all that soda's gone to your head!" The big man tromped over. "Need a lift?" He put his meaty arms under Chrono and launched the boy to his feet. And as a parting gift, the big man gave him a strong, friendly pat on the back, dislocating a few joints. Chrono coughed – "thank you, sir," he gasped, then skipped away.

I'm sure to remember this day – nothing is going as planned. Wonder when Lucca's sideshow opens. Where was it again – ah yes, that way, by Leene's Bell, no less. Might as well check to see if she's ready.

Chrono shrugged his shoulders to get all his bones realigned from the friendly "pat," and headed north for Lucca's show. For some reason, this section of the fair was far less populated and loud. Not that Chrono minded… rather, he enjoyed that freedom. The colors were somewhat duller around here as well, even though the air was lighter.

A quick glance toward Lucca's place reminded Chrono that there was still plenty of time before the show. There was no sign of anyone there. Sure. I guess that means I have to wander around some more. Well, it can't really get any worse.

He smirked and turned to rejoin the antics of the fair. As he turned, he saw a flash of white, yellow, blue, and felt something smack him in the middle of the forehead. His feet flew out from under him, and he saw them reaching into the sunny blue sky. Another flash of white, yellow, and blue, and his head hit the unforgiving stones beneath Leene's Bell.