Chrono Trigger A Chrono Trigger Christmas Carol

Stave 1- Yakra's Ghost

Original Author- Charles Dickens

Characters created by-Squaresoft

Songs from- The Muppet Christmas Carol

Yakra was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergymen, the clerk, the undertaker and the chief mourner. Magus signed it. And Magus' name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose to put his hand to.

Old Yakra was as dead as a doornail. Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin nail as the deadest piece of iron mongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Yakra was as dead as a doornail.

Magus knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Yakra was one Magus' top generals. He was a master of disguise and a very shrewd beast. He was one of Magus' most loyal henchmen, and they were close friends. Yakra was the only one of Magus' generals that he enjoyed working with. Ozzie was greedy, Slash was stupid and Flea...well Flea wasn't exactly someone you were comfortable around. And he had died.

Magus was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole friend and sole mourner. Yakra did have a child, but he did not find out about his father's death for 50 years. Magus was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event, but that he was an excellent warlord and continued fighting his enemies on the very day of the funeral, and viciously defeated the platoon of Guardia soldiers in a bloody battle.

Now those of you familiar with the quest of Crono and his comrades argue that Magus could not have known about Yakra's death as he was killed by Crono and company. That is wrong. Yakra survived after the battle and managed to report back to Magus before Cron and company battled. He was wounded for a long time, and Magus never once visited him in the hospital ward. He was, however, present at the funeral, which was just before Crono and his friends fought against Magus.

The mention of Yakra's funeral brings me back to the point I started from. There is no doubt that Yakra was dead. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate. If we were not perfectly convinced that Hamlet's father died before the play began, there would be nothing more remarkable in his taking a stroll at night, in an easterly wind, upon his own ramparts, than there would be in any other middle-aged gentleman rashly turning out after dark in a breezy spot- say Saint Paul's Churchyard for instance-literally to astonish his son's weak mind.

Now, if you recall, Magus joined Crono and his allies in a quest to defeat Lavos. But even then, he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Magus! A squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous sinner! Hard and sharp as dreamstone, which no steel had ever struck out generous fire, secret, and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his features, nipped at his pointed ears, stiffened his gait, made his eyes red, his thin lips blue, and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; and had never thawed it. His hair was ice blue, and all who saw it got chills up their spine.

External heat and cold had little influence on Magus. No warmth could warm, no wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often "came down" handsomely, and Magus never did.

People avoided Magus whenever they saw him, even in 12,000 B.C., his home timeline. But what did Magus care? It was the very thing he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths of life, warning all human sympathy to keep its distance, was what the knowing ones call "nuts" to Magus. But he did not care. He had one mission, and he did not want anyone getting in his way.

Once upon a time- of all the good days in the year, on Christmas Eve-Magus was intently searching a cave with a young man. The man had orange hair, and blue eyes and was dressed in a brown tunic a carried a bronze hammer with him. They were exploring the cave as they heard jocund laughing from outside the cave walls. "Humbug." Magus said to himself as they searched the cave. Magus may have continued searching had he not felt a hand on his shoulder. He knew it wasn't the man with him, and he quickly turned around, pulled out his scythe and attempted to kill whatever was behind him.

His swipe missed the target. The creature had jumped back to avoid the attack. It's eyes were glimmering in the darkness. It's gigantic round eyes...It was Lucca, one of Crono's friends. She had purple hair, a yellow helmet and a very fluffy appearing Eskimo outfit on."A merry Christmas, Magus! God save you!" cried the cheerful girl.

"Bah!" said Magus. "Humbug!"

"Christmas a humbug, Magus!" said Lucca. "You don't mean that, do you?"

"I do," said Magus "Merry Christams! What right have you to be merry? What reason have you to be merry?"

"I have friends who will spend the holiday with me. And I was wondering if you would like to come to a Christmas Party we are holding at the castle in 1000 A.D."

"Bah humbug!"

"Don't be angry, Magus. I just would like for you to come and enjoy Christmas with all of us. Don't be so angry, Magus."

"What else can I be," returned the mage, "when I live in such a universe of fools as this? Merry Christmas! Out upon merry Christmas! If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with 'Merry Christmas' on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart! Keep Christmas in your way and let me keep it in mine."

"But you don't keep it!"

"Leave me alone then, you moron."

"I AM NOT A MORON!!"

"Humbug."

"Magus, Christmas is a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys. Christmas has done me good, and can do you good!"

The man Magus was with began applauding Lucca's speech. Magus gave him an angry scowl and the man suddenly went back to searching the cave.

"If you like Christmas so much, you should use that gate key to travel to Christmas everyday! Now if you'll excuse me, I have much work to do." Said Magus.

"What work? How will looking in this cave help you find Schala?" asked Lucca.

"Get out."

"Magus!"

"GET OUT!!"

Lucca sighed. It was no use. Magus' only goal in life was to find a way to save Schala from the Ocean Palace. He knew there was a secret entrance made in 500 A.D. by a mage, but it has been hidden since then. Magus has been searching for it for 6 years. He spent 1 year in 12,000 B.C. and went to 601 A.D. to try to find clues about Schala by looking her up in history. He found out about the hidden entrance and sought to find it. But even he needs help with a task such as that, so he hired an assistant named Bob Cratchit. Bob had one child, but his son had recently got an illness that made frequent doctor visits necessary, and they were expensive. Bob had very little money and could barely afford the food, mortgage and doctor bills. Magus didn't care and only paid Bob the minimum for paying for all the necessities.

Suddenly 3 middle-aged men entered the cave. One of them Magus knew. His name was Toma, and he was a treasure hunter. Toma was working for Magus at the time, and he was late for work. His mustache was as brown as an oak tree, and his vest as orange as the fruit. And he was 2 minutes late, as Bob was 1 minute early. The other two men seemed to be knights for the kingdom of Guardia, who were once Magus' worst enemies. Their silver armor gleamed in the dimly lit cave.

"Toma! You're late!" yelled Magus.

"I'm sorry, sir! I had to return home to give these men something! They have come to see you!" said Toma, who was out of breath.

"You are Magus, are you not? The mage who fought against Guardia in that fearsome war?" asked one of the knights.

"I am. What is it to you?" asked Magus.

"We've come to tell you that you are now under full amnesty. You will no longer be prosecuted for your crimes in you just sign this treaty of peace." Replied the swordsman as he took out a piece of parchment, a quill and an inkbottle.

"Humbug. I'll sign it if you'll leave me alone." Said Magus as he grabbed the items and shoved the parchment against the wall. He quickly read the form (which was amazing considering the darkness) and signed it. He then handed the items back to the men.

"Thank you, sir. How are you enjoying Christmas Eve?" asked the other knight.

"Not good. Christmas Eve has always been bad...come to think of it...Yakra died seven years ago, tonight." Replied Magus.

"We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving friend."

"Yes, Magus is a really nice guy." Said Lucca in a sarcastic tone. However the knights did not hear her comment and continued.

"At this festive season of the year, Mr. Magus, it is more than usually desirable that we should make some slight provision for the poor and destitute, who suffer greatly at the present time. Many thousands are in want of common necessaries, hundreds of thousands are in want of common comforts, sir."

"Are there no prisons?" asked Magus.

"Plenty of prisons." Said the knight as he took out another parchment and handed took out the quill.

"And the Union workhouses? Are they still in operation?" asked Magus.

"They are. Still, I wish I could say they were not."

"Oh! I was afraid, from what you said at first, that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course. I'm very glad to hear it."

"Mr. Magus, a few of us are endeavoring to raise a fund to buy the poor some meat and drink, and means of warmth. We chose this time, because it is a time, of all others, when Want is keenly felt and Abundance rejoices. What shall I put you down for?"

"Nothing." Said the wizard looking around for the entrance. "Toma, get to work!"

Toma quickly ran towards another are of the cave with his lantern when the knight asked, "You wish to remain anonymous?"

"I wish to be left alone. Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas, and I can't afford to make idle people merry."

"Magus, you gained a lot of money while fighting monsters with us! You can easily afford at least 1000G!" protested Lucca.

"Humbug! Why should I help them when they can go to those facilities? Those who are badly off must go there." Scowled Magus.

"Many can't go there; and many would rather die." Said a knight slowly.

"If they would rather die, they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population! It's enough for a man to understand his own business, and not to interfere with other people's. Mine occupies me constantly. So if you'll excuse me, I must get back to work. Good afternoon, gentlemen!"

Seeing clearly that it would be useless to pursue their point, the knights withdrew. Lucca pursued the men and gave them a 6000G donation, which was all the money she had leftover from her adventures. Before she left she said "I'll be in 1000 A.D. with the others if you change your mind!" He simply ignored her and went back to work.

Magus and his men had explored the cave for 7 days and had found nothing. After 5 hours of searching Magus decided it was time to move on to a new cave. The trio exited the cave and were surrounded by the town of Truce. Everyone was outside, enjoying themselves, singing carols, and doing other winter activities.

"Humbug. Perhaps it isn't in a cave at all. Next place we'll search is the desert." Said Magus.

"The desert is very big sir, and a snow storm is occurring there." Said Toma.

"Then we'll go first thing tomorrow morning. The storm should die down by then. Meet me at Fiona's Villa at eight o'clock sharp." Said Magus.

"Sir, tomorrow is Christmas." Said Toma.

"Fine. Eight ten." Said Magus.

"Sir, ten minutes doesn't seem like much for Christmas day." Said Bob.

"How much time do you want off? Fifteen minutes?" asked Magus.

"No, sir. The entire day, please." Bob said to his boss meekly.

"The entire day? Fine. But do not expect to receive pay for tomorrow. Now go home and meet me there at eight on December the twenty-sixth."

The men did not care that they would not get any money for the next day, they were just happy that they got the rest of the day off, as well as Christmas. While Bob and Toma cheerfully headed towards their homes, humming Christmas carols, Magus walked through the town of truce as he headed towards the cathedral, where he had been staying ever since he castle was destroyed. He also stayed at Ozzie's fort, but he spent more time at the cathedral as he was spending most of his time exploring Zenan.

Magus walked through the town and he could hear the people singing a song as he came past them:

_When a black wind blows it chills you, chills you to the bone._

_But there's nothing in nature that freezes your heart like years of being alone._

_Unkind as any and the wrath of many, this is Magus!_

_Oh! There goes Mr.Humbug! There goes Mr.Grim! _

_If they gave a prize for being mean, the winner would be him._

_Magus is pure evil and he thinks he has all the power,_

_If he could be a flavor you could bet he would be sour!_

_He's the undisputed master of the underhanded deed,_

_And he does not care for others, but only for his greed._

_Oh! There goes Mr.Outrage! There goes Mr.Sneer!_

_He has no time for friends or fun, his anger makes that clear._

_Oh! There goes Mr.Heartless! There goes Mr. Cruel!_

_It's amazing that the knights of Guardia would let him near_

_Our childrens's schools! _

The town continued singing the catchy song until Magus exited the town and slowly walked towards the cathedral, where Magus had forced all the nuns out of the church so he could live there. He had a great time throwing them in the ocean.

The cathedral was the base of operations for his deceased partner, and the location where he fought against Crono and company. Yakra was finished off by Crono and Frog, using their famous X-Strike technique. Their story of defeating Yakra had become legend. Magus never thought about it before that afternoon, though.

He arrived at the cathedral at dusk. He played the song on the piano that opened the hidden door. He went towards his bedroom and saw something peculiar. It was the knocker on the bedroom door. Now it is a fact that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact that Magus had seen it night and morning, during his whole residence in that place; and that he had not bestowed one thought on Yakra since his last mention of his seven-years dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Magus, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change-not a knocker, but Yakra's face.

Yakra's face. It was not in impenetrable shadow, as the other objects in the cathedral were, but had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Magus as Yakra used to look: with ghostly spectacle turned up on his ghostly forehead. Thought the eyes were wide open, they were motionless. That, and its livid color, made it horrible; but its horror seemed to be in spite of the face, and beyond its control, rather than a part of its own expression.

As Magus looked fixedly at this phenomenon it was a knocker again. To say that he was not startled, or that his blood was not conscious of a terrible sensation to which it had been a stranger from infancy, would be untrue. But he put his hand upon the key he had relinquished, turned it sturdily, walked in, and lighted his candle.

He _did_ pause, with a moment's irresolution, before he shut the door; and he did look cautiously behind it first, as if he half expected to be terrified with the sight of Yakra's horns sticking out into the hall. But there was nothing on the back of the door, except the screws and nuts that held the knocker on, and he closed the door with a bang.

The sound resounded through the cathedral like thunder. Ever room seemed to have a separate peal of echoes of its own. He fastened the door, and walked across the bedroom to the closet, where he took out his night robe. He sat down on his chair next to the fireplace and started a small fire as he ate his gruel. It was a very low fire indeed; nothing on such a bitter night. He was obliged to sit close to it, and brood over it, before he could extract the least sensation of warmth for such a handful of fuel. He did not like to waste his MP and was very conservative. The fireplace was built by the cathedral's priest long ago. It was paved with tiles, designed to illustrate the Scriptures. There were Cains and Abels, Pharaoh's daughters, Queens of Sheba, angelic messengers descending through the air on clouds like feather-beds, Abrahams, Balthazars, Apostles putting off to set in butter-boats, hundreds of figures to attract his thoughts; and yet the face of Yakra, seven years dead, came down like the ancient Prophet's rod, and swallowed up the whole. If each smooth tile had been blank at first, with the power to shape some picture on its surface from the disjointed fragments of his thoughts, there would have been a copy of Yakra's head on every one.

"Humbug!" said Magus; and walked across the room. He was starting to like his new catch phrase. "Bah Humbug!" had a nice ring to it, and people got the message. But he wasn't thinking about that at the moment. He was thinking about Yakra.

After several turns, he sat down again. As he threw his head back in the chair, his glance happened to rest upon a bell, a disused bell, that hung in the room and communicated, for some purpose now forgotten, with a chamber in the highest story of the building. It was with great astonishment, and with a strange, inexplicable dread, that, as he looked, he saw the bell begin to swing. It swung so softly that it scarcely made a sound; but soon it rang loudly, and so did every bell in the church.

This might have lasted half a minute, or a minute, but it seemed an hour. The bells ceased, as they had begun, together. They were all succeeded by a clanking noise, coming from the main room of the church. It was as if some creature were dragging heavy chains over the stone floor. The piano password was played grimly and Magus heard the trapdoor open.

Magus quickly changed into his regular outfit and entered a fighting stance and stared at the door intensely, prepare to attack whatever would come out of it. He was expecting some sort of mage, who had cast a spell on the bells but his color changed when he saw what it was. It came through the heavy door, and passed into the room before his eyes. Upon its coming in, the dying flame leaped up, as though it cried "I know him! Yakra's ghost!" and fell again.

The same face, the very same. Yakra, his slimy body, his sharp horns, his white eyes, and his huge feet moved towards Magus, who stepped back. The chain Yakra drew was clasped about his middle. It was long, and wound about him like a tail; and it was made (for Magus observed it closely) of swords, spears, maces, axes, and hammers. His body was transparent; so that Magus, observing him, could see the hallway behind the spirit. Though he looked the phantom through and through, and saw it standing before him; though he felt the chilling influence of its death cold eyes.

"Who are you?" demanded the mage.

"Ask me who I was." Replied the poltergeist.

"Okay...who were you?"

"In life, I was one of your generals, Yakra the great."

"Yakra the great? You were always pretty cowardly. I always said you had no balls and now I see it with my own eyes" Magus snickered, trying to hide his fear.

"Damn you, Magus! Stop criticizing me! You always criticize me!" replied the specter.

"So what's up, Yakra? How's death been treating you?" asked the wizard he folded his arms, no longer fearing Yakra.

"It's been hell." Said Yakra as he sat down on Magus' chair. Magus leaned up against a wall and face Yakra.

"I thought I be a little more afraid of a ghost." Said Magus smugly.

"You don't believe I'm here, do you?"

"Why should I? A little thing can affect the senses. A slight disorder of the stomach for instance. You might be a bit of undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, or a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato. There's more of gravy than of grave about you!"

"Really? Well can a blob of mustard do this?" asked Yakra as the chains stretched out and began squeezing Magus.

"Nope...don't think mustard's ever done this to me before...But then again...nobody does this to me..." said Magus as he grinned. He stretched out his arms and all the chains fell off of him from the force of his movements. He charged towards Yakra, scythe drawn. Magus slashed his opponent but the scythe went right through the ghost.

"What the hell?"

Magus kept attacking the ghost, but none of his attacks were working. Yakra was laughing at his former leader's attacks. The great Magus could not even damage a weak little ghost. Magus jumped backward, out of breath and quickly rolled out of the way of Yakra's chains, which were chasing him. He dodged all of the beast's chains and weapons attached to them and jumped on his bead.

"Power of darkness, blast you energy onto this weak spirit... DARK BOMB!!!" yelled the dark magician as he extended his left arm towards the ghost. A dark bubble appeared around the ghost of Yakra and it screamed in pain as the attack went into his body. He fell to his knees and Magus slowly walked towards him. Yakra got up and sat back down.

"Still as weak as before. So why have you come?"

"Do you believe in me?"

"Yes I do. You were always stronger than food poisoning."

"Magus...it is required of every creature that the spirit within it should walk among it's fellow creatures and if that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after death. It is doomed to wander the world-oh, woe is me!-and witness what it cannot share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!"

"So what's up with the chain?"

"I wear the chain I forged in life," replied the ghost. "I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it. Is its pattern strange to you? Or would you know the weight and length of the strong coil you bear yourself? It was full as heavy as long as this, seven Christmas Eves ago. You have labored on it, since. It is a ponderous chain!"

Magus glanced about him on the floor, in the expectation of finding himself surrounded by some fifty or sixty fathoms of iron cable; but he could see nothing.

"Wow...such a long chain..." said the mage sarcastically.

"This is not the time for jokes, Magus. That chain may not be visible now but in death it shall be!!" yelled the beastly ghost.

"But you were always a good warrior and leader."

"That doesn't matter! This isn't Norse mythology! Helping mankind should have been my business, not destroying it."

"What am I supposed to do? Is there any good news you have? Some source of comfort, like a guidebook that tells me how to get rid of the chains, or perhaps a spell of some sort?" asked Magus, whose voice suddenly got higher.

"I have none to give. It comes from other regions, Magus, and is conveyed by other ministers, to other kinds of men. Nor can I tell you what I would. A very little is all permitted to me. I cannot rest, I cannot stay, I cannot linger anywhere. But there is still hope for you, Magus."

"There is hope?"

Yakra got up from the chair and walked right through Magus and headed towards the window. He opened it a gust of wind flew into the room. It was the black wind. It sent chills up the black mage's spine. His old friend then began to speak.

"Yes. You shall be haunted by three spirits. Expect the first one tonight when the bell tolls one. Expect the second one on Christmas day at noon and expect the third spirit on midnight of Christmas day."

"Can't I just met them all now and get it over with?"

"Expect the first spirit when the bell tolls one..." said Yakra as he began to fade. He continued to fade and fade until he disappeared. Magus was silent. The black wind was still howling. He quietly walked towards the window to shut it and but saw something outside. Thousands of ghosts, all carrying chains like Yakra, slowly traveling through the forest, each going in his or her own direction.

****

**_End Stave 1_**


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