Chrono Trigger The Silent Soldier

The Silent Soldier  
  
  
  
  
  


by Lalita  
  
  
  
  
  


Disclaimer~ Chrono Trigger isn't mine, never will be, wish I owned it, blah blah blah...  
  
  
  


Summary~ A young man turned his face upwards, letting the cool rain wash over him as he silently damned the heavens above. Rivulets of water trailed down his face, mixing in with his salty tears that were coursing down his cheeks. A primal, howling noise was desperately trying to make its way past his lips, but he couldn't allow it to come out. He didn't know why; it was just like that, it always had been like that. And so he sat there, weeping in silence, his eyes burning with the cold fire of his rage. He would hunt down those who had done this to her... He would have his revenge. His youthful innocence was seared away that night, the very night that had claimed his beloved's life...  
  
  
  


Author Notes~ Please read and review! This is a little different from my other fics I've written- in this one, I'm going to have Crono just like he is in the game- mute. I'm also going to have a bit of an explanation as to why he doesn't speak. Any suggestions and ideas for this stroy are welome- actually, encouraged! ^___^  
  
  
  
  
  


Prologue~ Tears from the Sky  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Clouds scudded across a full moon in a midnight sky, and a lone figure dared to risk the night's dangers. Moonlight shimmered through the branches in the dense forest, making menacing shadows, and the wind rattled through the trees, creating eerie, chilling wails. The small, petite young woman wrapped her cloak more closely around her, shivering. She anxiously glanced at the trees and such beyond the dirty, muddy path she walked on, chiding herself for her foolish fears.

Still, she could not chase away the feeling of unease. The tight knot in her stomach would not loosen, no matter how many times she assured herself that is was nothing but her own imagination making the sound of footsteps other than her own and unearthly noises not from the forest. Emerald eyes peeked out from the hood of the cloak, and the girl searched with her eyes into the darkness of the forest, though she knew she would be able to see nothing. There was nothing but the trees, the shadows, and herself. All the forest creatures had gone to sleep long ago, and the dark forest held dangers not known in the daylight. The knowledge that she could not see did not make her fear abate. 

The wind blew a particularly strong gust and the hood of the cloak was thrown back, revealing long, gleaming golden hair with red tints, hastily held back by a simple gold band. The woman's eyes widened in her heart shaped face before she threw the velvet hood over her head once again, muttering fiercely and tucking in stray wisps of hair. The long, elegant robe whipped in the wind, fanning out behind her like wings. 

The woman was none other than the royal Queen of Guardia, although from first appearance one would not know it. If the young Queen had her own way, she would be running around on the country side, frolicking with peasants, wearing simple garments- which, at times, she was wont to do, despite her advisors protests that it would be unseemly. Also, the Queen did not go by her royal name, Nadia. Instead, she preferred the use of the name Marle. Marle was young and vivacious, and did not like the constraints imposed upon her by her position. But, nonetheless, she took the leadership of her country and ruled with grace and wisdom. She had always put her country first, before all else- even before love.

Marle's hand drifted to her stomach, conscious that what she was doing was dangerous for herself, as well as for the child she carried. Her heat began to beat faster and harder out of excitement. Tonight was the night that she would go to Crono and propose. Of course, that wasn't how things were traditionally done, but the relationship between Marle and Crono had never been normal. Soon, hopefully, they would be married, and then she could safely announce her pregnancy to the kingdom. The court would be delighted with the prospect of a new heir, and her advisors would stop battering her about finding a husband, a man to rule, for they still felt a woman was unequal to the task- and a young one, at that, with a rebellious streak and a reputation from when she was a princess. 

Marle smiled contentedly, thinking of how happy her life would become. She would have a child, her love, and her kingdom would be satisfied and it would prosper. Her smile momentarily faltered as she realized that before her dream would become complete, she had to find her way through the forest- alone, without any guards and with no means of protection. As a ruler, she had been forced to give up her trademark crossbow and had been stripped of all her magical powers. She had been tempted to refuse the throne when she had found out about that part. Marle frowned as she remembered what her council had said. " We need a reliable, stable ruler," they had explained, as if speaking to a very slow child. " Magic has not been allowed in this family for hundreds of years. It would defy tradition."

Marle smirked. Tradition held no sway with her. Already, age old processes had been broken- for instance, Marle, a woman, taking the throne. And, much to the stuffy nobles' displeasure, before Marle's father had passed on, he had given her and Crono permission to wed with his blessing. Crono and Marle had never talked about the subject; it was an accepted fact between the two that when the time came, they would marry. Until then, they remained entirely faithful to each other. Marle's hand once again fluttered to her stomach, where the child they had conceived lay. The time had come.

Abruptly, she realized where she was and where she should be. The moon had partly dipped behind some tall trees, making the path almost unrecognizable. Ignoring the feelings of unrest prickling at her again, Marle walked slowly, carefully, staring down at the ground, fighting the urge to run. It would not be wise to run in her condition; besides, she did not like showing signs of her fear. Her feet strayed off the path to trod on damp grass, wet from the recent rain, and her satiny slippers left tiny footprints. Marle, focused solely on her thoughts, did not notice and proceeded to walk away from the path. The forest smelled alive and fresh. Droplets of water sparkled on leaves, and when the faint moonlight hit it just right, it looked magical. The scene was breathtaking, and on any other night Marle would have been spellbound by it.

What, then, was so different about this night? Marle wondered, coming to a sudden halt. Perhaps it was the absence of the three or more soldiers who usually accompanied her everywhere she went; mayhap it was the feeling of foreboding she had felt as soon as she had slipped out of the castle. 

In the next instant she heard a low, murmuring voice, almost too faint to distinguish apart from her own breathing. It was laced with menace and threat, and it gave a simple warning: Turn back now...

Marle trembled, her knees wobbling and her breath ragged and shallow. Her heart beat frantically in her chest and panic gripped her, blocking everything else. " I... I must be... imagining things," Marle said aloud, desperately struggling not to give in to the fear that was seizing her. It had never been her way to be a coward, and she would not start now, dammit!

No, little queen... You are not imagining this... This is real... The voice hissed. Marle spun around, trying vainly to locate the source of the voice. It was becoming closer, louder. She turned and fled, not because she would rather flee than fight, but because she feared for her unborn child's safety. 

Blindly, Marle ran deeper and deeper into the forest, paying no mind to her muddy shoes and torn dress. She stumbled over branches and crawled over logs, desperate to escape. She had no choice. She had no defense, and for her own sake, as well as for the baby's, she had to run. Her heavy cloak weighed her down, making her slower, and what had seemed sensible for the chilly night was now a nuisance. No, it was worse that a nuisance. Her speed- or lack of- might cost her life. Marle did not know where the voice was, or from whom it was coming, but she knew, without a doubt, that the speaker meant her harm. The cloak snared on a wayward branch and jerked Marle backwards. She slipped and fell heavily on the ground, her breath temporarily knocked out of her. Gasping, she struggled to free herself, but only got tangled further in the assortment of branches and twigs. The mud greedily sucked at her clothes, until she was heavy, far too heavy to stand...

She couldn't breathe. She was too afraid... " Coward," she thought viciously. " I am a coward to lie here, immobilized by fear, unable to help myself- or my baby!" Unbidden, tears sprang to her eyes, but she fought them back. " I will not show any weakness," she silently vowed. She placed her palms flat on the ground behind her and hauled herself up, panting. Several times, she slipped and crashed back into the mud, but, finally, she was standing on her feet and had moved to dry ground. Vaguely, Marle realized that she was now in a clearing, one that she didn't recognize. She couldn't find any clue as to her whereabouts, so it was pointless to run. She could end up heading towards whoever it was who was chasing her.

A low mist began forming in the clearing, the fog drifting from in between tree trunks, some crawling through holes in the ground. Marle narrowed her eyes in order to see, but the fog had become chokingly thick. She could hardly make out her own hand, right in front of her face. 

The fog cleared away, seeping back into the forest as quickly and quietly as it had come. At first, Marle only saw a tall, broad-shouldered man, but when she blinked, she saw a smaller figure, a woman, at his side. Both of them were garbed in black, flowing robes, and the bejeweled hilt of a dagger poked out from the woman's sleeve; the wind blew back the man's cloak, revealing a sword fastened to his belt. 

Marle's throat felt parched. Something inside of it convulsed, and she closed her eyes, unwilling to witness any more. But almost as soon as she had closed them, she opened them and glared at her enemies with haughty disdain, fitting of any queen. She'd be damned if she'd die not facing her assailants in the eye. 

As the pair drew closer, Marle realized they weren't walking, but were floating gracefully above the ground. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. What sort of trickery was this? If she didn't know any better, she'd say they were using magic... But that was impossible! She shook her head in denial, refusing to even consider the possibility. No one left in Guardia, in this time period, could use magic. The kingdom had been thoroughly searched, up and down, for those even with the potential to wield magical powers. Lucca, a brilliant inventor, and also a close friend of Marle's, along with the help of Taban, her father, had created a device that drained all the magic in a person. The law that magic was not allowed to be used (or even to be possessed) was rigidly enforced, due to the fact that no one wanted the risk of Lavos being summoned back. There was no certainty that, though he had been defeated, Lavos would not return. Failure to comply with the rules meant a possible death by guillotine. No one would dare-

" But what if they aren't from Guardia?" a nasty voice in her head protested. " What if they aren't from this time?"

You are right, little queen... We are not from this place, nor this time... The voice came from the man, Marle was certain. But exactly how he had spoken to her without moving his mouth, she could not say. She looked up at him questioningly, for he looked far more merciful than the woman, who was staring at Marle with a murderous gleam in her eyes. Without her realizing it, the pair had reached her, and now stood beside her on opposite ends, looking down at her.

" Who are you?" Marle demanded, with more bravado than she felt. In truth, she felt like her legs were about to give out at any second.

Does it matter? a harsh, angry voice bit out. Marle knew instantly that it must have been the woman, who had been gazing at her with such hatred. A laugh emitted from the woman's mouth. It was a rasping laugh, like the woman had not used her voice for some time, and it was a sharp, stabbing sound that made Marle's blood run cold. She was going to die, she knew it, deep in her heart. Marle fought the tears of frustration filling in her eyes, threatening to spill over and tumble down her cheeks, displaying just how afraid she really was. 

Her legs could no longer support her. She sank down to the ground, clutching it tightly in her fists. " How could I be so foolish?" she silently berated herself. The man knelt down and tilted her lowered head so that she was forced to look at him. His eyes were cold and black, not a deep, rich brown, as most people's whose eyes one thinks are black far away look. But... she was certain that they had held, if just for a single moment, a flicker of compassion- and pity. 

Are you afraid? he asked, his voice no longer threatening. Instead, it was gentle and oddly... captivating. Marle felt as though she were falling into a trap, one that she couldn't resist... nor did she want to. 

She nodded, for her voice was lost to her. The thought of lying to him never entered her head. A shock of unruly red hair suddenly fell into the man's eyes, and Marle stared at it, amazed and aghast at the same time. " C-Crono?" she let out in a breathy rush, relief flooding through her, although she was confused, too. Indeed, this stranger strongly resembled Crono, yet he wasn't her love. His eyes were different, bleak and expressionless, and the way he spoke held an air of sorrow... 

Her eyes locked onto his, searching for some sign of the warmth and mercy she had found before, but there was none. All she could see was hard, resolved determination. A deep desire and strength to ruthlessly accomplish his goals, no matter what the cost... no matter who's life was wasted. Marle shuddered once again. She gulped, and the tears she had tried to hide now erupted. She sobbed as helplessly as a babe, all the while condemning herself for her weakness. Her body shook as te ferocity of her emotions gripped her. She clawed at the ground, pain welling up inside of her, consuming her... All she could see was a blinding red light, as richly red as the blood that began to spill from her mouth...

I do not see why you must drag this out, the man said to his partner, sending his message through his thoughts.

But the woman beside him payed him no heed. Her cloak had been discarded, and fiery golden hair spilled about her shoulders. Her pale face was flushed with excitement and pleasure, and her bloodless, cracked lips formed one, harsh word before she descended upon her victim. " Need..."

The man, Darvon, shuddered and turned away as his sister took the girl she so resembled into her gnarled, thin hands. He knew this was necessary, knew they needed the blood of others in order to survive, but it did not have to like it, did have to embrace it, as his sister did so willingly. The knowledge that they would perish without taking the thousands of lives of the innocent offered him no comfort, gave him no solace. He could not find justice in what he did; his sister, Marlene, who had once believed in such principles now scoffed at the concept. " We are evil," she would declare, " and there are no rules for us. No earthly concept, such as fair and right, apply to the damned."

And so she spoke the truth. Darvon was distracted as a small sound escaped the slender woman's throat, and her eyes, glossy and wide, rolled back into her head. Her ivory face was frozen in a mask of fear, pain and anger etched onto her face. Darvon felt a mad impulse to stroke her cheek, to do everything he could to replace that look with one of comfort and tranquility. 

But Marlene would have none of that. She had waited too long for this, he knew, and nothing could stop her from draining the life out of the girl whom she was connected to, bonded to, though the constraints of time and becoming an immortal had nearly severed that link, there was still enough of it left to rejuvenate her, to allow her to live fully once again. Marlene was beginning to restore in front of his very eyes, her skin taking color and becoming fuller, her cheeks becoming rosy, her eyes already starting to show hints of green, although they glinted with the wicked delight and power she felt when taking the life of another. 

But this time, it was different. This was the last victim that Marlene would ever need. She had found the one whom she shared a life-long link to, and she had used it to her advantage- by draining the life of her other self, the poor unfortunate laying weakly in her arms, she would be made to live again. No longer would she need to feed, no longer would she decompose after too long of a meal. She would be complete, alive again, while managing to retain the previous powers her immortality had bestowed upon her. Darvon carefully shielded his thoughts from Marlene, but he needn't have bothered. She will kill again, if only for the twisted joy, the perverted thrill it gives her...

He shifted impatiently. His sister was not who she had been before. Becoming immortal had changed her, far worse than anything else. He knew her not, but, then again, he knew not what to make of himself. He made his victims' passages into death quick and as pleasant as possible...Nonetheless, he still claimed life after life after life...

Soon, they would seek out his new prey. The one he was linked to. Darvon felt him, faintly, but he was still there, and close by as well. Darvon was hit with a wave of remorse. He would kill the one who he needed in order to live again. The one whom the woman had spoke of softly, in such a whimsical tone, while he had vainly tried to soothe her, to calm her, to make her ready and accepting... His efforts had gone to waste, for, as he well knew, Marlene did not waste her time with such " foolishness," as she called it.

A loud, crunching noise yards away drifted to his ears, startling him out of his troubled thoughts. If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed the voices shouting, searching, much sooner. Judging from the sound of footsteps, there were about a dozen armed soldiers, hacking away at branches. Cursing, he strode towards Marlene and heaved her away from the near dead woman. She struggled against him, desperate to return to her victim. He tugged more viciously at her arm, then said sharply, Marlene! Now is not the time!

Apparently, his voice had pierced the haze of bloodlust that gripped her. She tore herself from his grip, hissing. Her eyes were freckled with red at the corners, and her mouth was stained with blood. Eyeing him coldly, she took a few steps back. Do you wish to deny me my new life, brother? she spat venomously, her eyes wandering longingly back towards her victim. The woman lay sprawled in the grass, unmoving, her hair, almost silver in the moonlight, fanning around her like a halo. The fine, white silk gown she wore made her look unearthly, like an angel. She was so tempting, so sweet, so innocent...

Darvon curtly shook his head. We must go, Marlene. Mortals are approaching. We may take the girl with us, but we must leave, quickly.

Marlene's lips twisted with scorn. Afraid of mere mortals, are we, brother? Why not kill them? You know we are more than a match- Her eyes shone at the prospect of more bloodshed, and she licked her lips in anticipation.

No! Darvon interrupted, commanding and firm. He would not be swayed. There has been enough pain inflicted tonight.

The footsteps were only seconds away; in any minute the humans would be emerging from the undergrowth. Darvon roughly grabbed his sister. Don't say a word.

Marlene bristled at his tone. I am not your servant. I will not do whatever you please!

She was broadcasting her thoughts all over the place, and Darvon was thankful that the soldiers hadn't yet noticed. He wanted to avoid all possible conflict. Holding Marlene with one arm, he closed his eyes and an instant later the scenery evaporated around them, replaced by the washtable and beds in a room at the Truce Inn. The window had been opened and a fresh breeze was blowing in; the curtains billowed and the candles flickered, barely illuminating the room. With a wave of his hand, Darvon put them out with a cold gust. They did not need candlelight to sleep. 

Marlene put as much distance between herself and Darwin as possible. Rage contorted her features until she looked like an ugly crone. My victim! Her angry scream reverberated around and around in his head.

And what of her? Darvon asked, sounding bored. 

I was not done draining her, you fool! I am not done with her! You... Marlene trailed off, shaking with suppressed anger. 

Darvon knew that if she could, she would unleash her power on him. But as she had learned from past experiences, that was not a wise thing. Although her power was great, his was stronger by far. If you had listened to me, you would not be in this predicament, little sister. 

He watched, amused, as Marlene's face turned very shades of red, and, finally, purple. She was unable to utter even one, single complete thought. Taking pity on her, Darvon assured her,Do not worry, Marlene. You can finish her later. He smiled kindly and his fangs, long and white, gleamed as the moonlight streamed through the open window. Soon, we shall live again, like we haven't for a long, long time...

Darvon kept his thoughts firmly fixed away from the woman who little life was fading away, of the woman with the haunting, jaded eyes.

  
  
  
  



End file.
