Chrono Trigger 1. How the world doth change

Ollen70: This is one of the stranger stories I've written. It takes place roughly two and a half years after the game ends. Hope you enjoy it. Suggestions and comments are always appreciated.  
  
Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger does not belong to me. I mean no offense to its creators by writing this story.   
  
The Fourth Guru  
  
Chapter One - - How the world doth change  
  
  
The monstrosity that hung in the sky before him defied every law of the universe. It simply shouldn't have existed, and Magus couldn't explain why it did. Standing aghast on the snowy turf of the north cape, he watched the behemoth float high above the world, only it's stalactite-like protrusions of earth visible through the clouds. Magus had a sinking feeling he knew what was built on its surface, though he couldn't even begin to fathom who had created it. Something was horribly wrong.  
  
Casting the levitation spell he knew he'd need to approach the...whatever it was, was more taxing than he first would have assumed. Something seemed to be affecting the way his magic produced. His heart beat faster and faster, but he finally managed to make his way upward, getting a much better look at the thing in the clouds. The closer he drew, the more trouble he had believing that he hadn't lost his mind.   
  
Though the island he saw drew many memories of the ruined continent of Zeal from his mind, it was obviously different. Zeal had been mainly a land mass with cities on the upper most surface, but this... The architecture was similar to that of Zeal, and yet familiar to that of the Ocean palace. The bulk of the thing was made of earth, like a levitated island, but all through it ran structures that emerged from its base and top, while the palaces and cities on the surface were far grander, most topped with lofty domes of crystal, brass, and solid bronze.  
  
Magus checked his speed as he passed through the final cloud covers and made to land on the island. As he did so, he felt a pulsing tingle pass through him, prickling his skin like faint electricity. The emanations were strong enough to make his teeth hurt. He'd felt that before, around the reincarnation of the undersea palace that had been called the Black Omen. The Omen had been able to transcend time, existing unchanged in every era and granting those who dwelt within it complete immortality. As long as the structure remained intact, they could never die.   
  
A quick glance at the ground below confirmed his suspicion. The air shimmered, reminding him of the waves of heat from a fire. If he stepped back through, he would once again be in 12,000 B.C., but anyone else from any other era that passed through would arrive in the same timelessness as he, and when they left, they would also be returned to their own present.   
  
Deciding that standing in one place wasn't helping anything, he walked as casually as he could along the avenue before him, every step forced and reluctant. Part of him didn't want to know what was going on here. Something told him that, whatever it was, it meant trouble beyond his imagination.  
  
Though the sun shone brightly on the pinnacles around him, jutting up into the air to spear the cirrus that hung high above, they remained as cold and forbidding as if they had been formed out of ice. He passed more than one citizen of this impossible nation on his way, though they paid him no mind. Concealed in a black cloak with a hood, he was able to move alongside the men in white and blue or purple and red robes, or the women, many of whom were garbed in yellows and oranges. Even the children, of whom there were several, were dressed in bright colors yet wore somber expressions, as if carrying all joy in their garments alone. To him, this wasn't as peculiar as it might have been. Having grown up in surroundings much like these, he was used to stoic faces. What was surprising to him was that the people weren't startled by his presence. He wasn't expecting to find people here at all, aside from maybe one or two. Even in the Black Omen, there were no common folk, only soldiers and scientists.  
  
Magus drew closer to one of the palace-like buildings, the largest and most impressive he'd seen so far. If there was any sort of capital to this strange place, he couldn't imagine where else it would be.  
  
The steps up toward the gates of the palace (or at least he assumed that it was a palace) were nothing to him as he redoubled his pace. He was forced to go on foot, his levitation spell abandoned. Using magic was becoming difficult here, and he wasn't sure why. There was something nearby, familiar and dangerous, that interfered with his normal methods of casting, and it was remarkably unsettling for him to be anywhere without the use of his powers. His renown as a sorcerer came from the endurance and strength of his magic, which had proven to be both strength and weakness. His spells lasted as long as they chose to last, whether he meant for their effects to linger or not. Still, it was his skill, and he was proud of it. His magic had come at a very high price.  
  
Shrugging off his unease, he continued the climb. Part of him was aware of the rashness of bursting into the palace above, not certain of what he'd find there. Without his magic, he might not be a match for the creator of this...thing...on which he stood. Calling his scythe to his hand, he continued. Magic was not his only means of defense.  
  
  
Not one soul stood in the palace. Not a guard, not even a Nu stirred under the ceiling of bronze and gold and glass that hung above, an ominous thing that filled Magus with dread. He was being watched, he was certain of it, but he could not ascertain as to who his watcher might be. The shadows were not friendly to him. Without full control of his magic, they wouldn't open up and accept him as they generally did, and so he crossed the large common area of the palace painfully on his guard.  
  
Though the palace still carried with it the general idea of Zeal, it was obviously a very different place. The technology seen on tables, standing in corners, and on bookcases or shelves was more advanced and more intricate than anything he remembered seeing in his old home. Several large, post-like structures bearing large orbs were decorated with feathers and sapphires stood to his left. These were identical to the many that had stood in Zeal, though he had no idea what they did. Even as a child, he couldn't fathom their use. The other technology was built in a similar fashion - intricate, large, and almost statuesque - but not at all forgiving. He slipped by as quickly as he could, eyes on the largest door that opened to the north.  
  
Having passed through one antechamber, he found himself before a doorway that was identical to the door before Queen Zeal's chamber, except that it wasn't closed. Perhaps it had just been opened by whoever waited on the other side. With a sudden sense of dread, it donned on him that whoever waited there might have opened it for him on purpose.  
  
His steps were now very deliberate, wary beyond what would be considered normal caution. When the veil of darkness around the doorway broke, his gaze passed over and caught on a large...well, he wasn't actually sure how to describe it to himself. Four of the statues he'd seen were set at the corners of a metal dias. What interested him was a round, relatively large object that roughly resembled a golden globe, save that the markings which lined it were as black as jet and...moving? The orb itself seemed to be pulsing, almost like a human heart. Around it rose the same whisper in the air like what surrounded this entire hovering island.   
  
An amazing thing, is it not? The sudden sound of a female voice brought Magus spinning around, scythe at the ready. A brilliant flash threw him to the ground. He reached for the blade, astonished when it didn't respond to his mental call like it always did when he prompted it with magic. It was then that he looked upward into the cultured face of a woman as she stood over him. His gasp was swallowed by her laughter, which was not at all kind.  
  
Do you remember me, dear child? Have you not forgotten my face? I could never forget yours.  
  
What's happened here? Magus demanded. What have you done?  
  
Why don't you stay awhile, precious Janus? All of these things will be made clear to you in time. She moved closer to him, leaning slightly. A tall woman, her stately robes of light blues blended with patterned whites, and the extravagant veils in her long, blonde hair giving her an even grander presence. I have missed you. Even nearer she came, the scent of her perfume galvanizing him into action.  
  
Throwing out his hands, he tore at the latent power within him, determined to exercise his magic to its fullest extent. The pain coursing through his body reminded him oddly of the pain he'd suffered when he had first faced Crono and his allies from 1000 A.D. The memories of that time fresh in his mind, he redoubled his attempt.  
  
He noted the concern in the woman's voice and turned his gaze with her. The strange orb glowed with a golden light, pulsing very rapidly. The shimmer around it expanded all at once. It happened so quickly that, though the woman was able to stand clear, he was barely to his feet when it wrapped suffocatingly about him. With that, his vision failed.  
  
Ollen70: To be continued shortly.


	2. Let us stand fast

Chapter Two - - Let us Stand Fast

"Lucca, Are you eating lunch with us today, or are you and your little friends getting together?"

"Huh?" Lucca came out of her room, her nose buried in a book. "I think I'm meeting with Marle. I haven't spent time with her or Crono for a while, and she said something about going to Porre today." Lucca strolled slowly across the room, pausing by the front door.

"Alright, dear." Lara smiled at her daughter. "Have a good time."

"Do you want me to pick up anything for you while I'm out?"

"Well, if you could bring home some eth...Lucca? Lucca!" Lara was cut off as Lucca screamed. Running to the door where her daughter stood, she caught the girl's hand. "Honey? What's wrong?"

Lucca didn't respond at first. She just gaped at the object she saw, hovering far  
above the earth in the sunlight.

"Wh..What's that!" She croaked aloud. "Where did it come from?"

"Um..Are you feeling okay, Lucca?" Lara felt around for Lucca's forehead when she'd composed herself. She pulled it away when she was satisfied that the girl wasn't suffering from fever. "The Eternity's always been there, for as long as anyone can remember."

"The Eternity, did you say?" Lucca turned her large eyes in her mother's direction. "Ha ha, silly me..." She chuckled nervously, pecking her mother on the cheek quickly. "It's just...it's just the..the way the sunlight's hitting it and all. It just took me by surprise. I'll see you later, okay? Love you, Mom!"

With that, she was off like a shot, leaving Lara shaking her head in the doorway.

"Maybe I should make her eat at home more often..." She murmured to herself. "She might not be getting enough protein or something..."

x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Did you SEE that thing?" Marle cried, latching on to Lucca as soon as the girl got close enough. Crono stood nearby, scratching his chin while peering up at the large island.

"It looks like a part of Zeal, only...I don't know..."

"Want to know something really weird?" Lucca asked after catching her breath. "My mom didn't think it was strange at all. She said it's always been there. Kind of like what people used to say when we asked them about the Black Omen, before it was destroyed."

"Then Queen Zeal is back, somehow?"

"I don't know." Crono shook his head. "Somehow that doesn't seem right. Besides, the Black Omen got it's power from Lavos. Without him, I don't think she'd have power. Or motive, really. After all, it was Lavos who was manipulating her in the first place."

"Here's the million coin question." Marle said at last. "If it was always there, how come we know it's out of place? If someone's been messing with time again, and they obviously have been, how come we're aware of it?"

"I have an even better question." Lucca pulled off her cap, moving for the front door of Crono's mother's house. "What else has been changed? If that thing - my mom called it the Eternity, I think - is here, it's incredibly likely that the time line's pretty screwed up." As soon as she said it, Lucca realized how obvious that sounded.

No one said anything for a moment. Lucca herself kept hoping that any minute now she could wake up and not have to deal with what a mess all of this was going to be. When words came at last, it was Crono's voice that carried them. 

"Is... do you think there's a possibility that the Epoch's not... maybe all of this happened when somebody..."

"Not a chance." Lucca said, finishing for him. The same thought had just occurred to her. If someone other than them had somehow stumbled on the Epoch, it was possible that they had caused all of this to take place. The time machine, in the hands of someone who didn't know how to use it, would be more than enough to create such strange effects. Lucca delved deep into one of her pockets, producing a burnished object in as much as attempt to comfort herself as to placate the other two. "I already told you what happened, once we decided not to take it apart. I made it so it wouldn't work without the time key. I always carry it with me, just to be sure. No one can fly the Epoch without it." Rubbing her forehead, she turned toward the forest. "Just the same, it might be a good idea to check up on it. I don't think anyone in this era knows enough about it to be able to hot-wire it, but if they got one of the maintenance panels off and were fiddling with the parts, I guess something could have gone wrong."

"Well... that makes sense..." Crono said, his tone implying that he hadn't really decided yet if it did or not.

"It's still in the forest, right?" Marle asked, bringing them back into the moment.

"Yeah, I wouldn't have moved it without telling you guys."

"Then let's get there," Crono replied tersely. "The sooner we get this mess figured out, the happier I'll be."

x x x x x x x x x x x x

Groaning as he tried to rise, Magus gave up and sank back to the ground. The pale sunlight that filtered down around him burned his eyes, and he threw his black, tattered cloak around his body. Every sensation was overwhelming, even the whisper of the wind above his head a maddening shriek in his ears. Angry at this defeat from his own body, he did his best to pull himself into the shadows.

As a black mage, he didn't possess the power to heal himself with magic. All he could do was wait. From what he could tell, he wasn't wounded all that badly, which was a tremendous surprise. If Magus had a choice between fighting Lavos again alone and unarmed, or traveling through whatever void it was that he'd just gone through, he assured himself that the first choice wouldn't be so bad. Lavos would be direct, at least. How long he'd hung between life and death in that void, Magus didn't know.

For some reason, he was in a forest now, and that was the important thing. If he'd traveled through a warp - which made more sense than many of the other possibilities he'd come up with thus far - then it was absolutely nothing like the others he'd encountered. Even the warp that had formed when he was nearly killed during the middle ages hadn't felt like that.

Sheltering himself as much as he could among the ferns and undergrowth, Magus lay his head down in the moss. In his current state, all he could do was remain hidden and hope that his body would mend itself quickly. At the moment, he wouldn't even be much of a match for the local monsters. Allowing himself a quick smirk before his eyelids became too heavy, he thought of how pathetic it would be for the greatest black mage in the history of the world to be mauled like a common peasant by a passing Hetake.

Then, all at once, the pressure of his body and the trials it had endured became too much for him. He plummeted mercifully into the sable fragments of a dreamless sleep.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Are you sure you remember where you left it?" Crono called to Lucca, narrowly managing to duck under an overhanging limb that she'd unintentionally swung in his direction.

"Of course I'm sure. Why on earth wouldn't I be?"

"I think because this is the fifth time we've passed this tree..."

"I highly doubt..." Lucca started, pushing up her glasses and actually looking at the tree in question. "Okay, fine, maybe I got a little turned around, but the Epoch's close. I left it in that old clearing, not too far from that sign we just saw."

"It's that way." Marle dead-panned, pointing off to their right. "It's the same place where the gate to the future used to be."

Smiling at Marle, Crono took her hand and helped her under the tree limb, both of them joining Lucca, who now set a much more brisk pace.

"Yeah, that's it. And I tell you what, I've actually been looking forward to using it again."

Crono chuckled.

"I don't doubt it. Must've killed you to consider pulling it apart." Truth be told, he was actually looking forward to using the time machine himself. Aside from the weirdness of the floating island, he wasn't really worried about what they'd face. Whatever it was, they could handle it. After all, they'd killed Lavos, hadn't they? The island in the sky was strange, but it wasn't exactly tied to Lavos.

He'd never told the others, but he was extremely sensitive to the emanations of Lavos. That was probably owed to the fact that he'd been saved from him by a mistake in the space-time continuum. After his return on death peak, nearing Lavos or even the Black Omen had caused a strange vibration to sound off deep within him.

Looking up through the branches in the direction of the island, he shrugged to himself. There was definitely an odd, almost familiar feeling about it, but it wasn't the same. It didn't frighten him, even though he was well aware that it should.

"Crono?" Marle's voice sounded from in front of him. Coming back down to earth, he noticed that both she and Lucca were watching him with identical expressions. Flashing a sheepish smile, he started walking again.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

Lucca stared for a long time at the open console of the bone-colored vessel, aware that she was expected to say something, but not aware of what that might be.

"Well..." was all she could manage, looking only at the ship and not at her companions.

"It looks exactly the same." Marle brushed her hand over the hull of the Epoch, removing some of the dust and grime that coated it. "In fact, judging from everything that's on it, it's safe to say nobody's been anywhere near it."

"I told you I hid it well." Lucca sniffed, helping remove as much of the filth as she could reach. After their return, following Lavos's defeat and the impromptu rescue of Crono's Mom after that little fair incident, Lucca had landed the ship in this part of the forest. About thirty yards from the clearing, a short bluff lined along its crest with thick briars served as a natural barricade for a flat, deeply shaded part of the forest further down. It had taken considerable effort to maneuver the ship down that far, but apparently the precautions had been worthwhile. Closing the open console, she let out a heavy sigh laced with all of the colors of regret.

"Epoch's in perfect condition - exactly the way I left it. Not even a bolt is out of place." Of course, this prompted a great deal more questions than it answered.

"So, if nothing's wrong with it... who wants to take a gamble on our next step?"

"If the Epoch wasn't involved, then I've got no clue. Someone's been messing around with time." Here she puffed out her chest. "That's our job. Nobody gets to screw up history but us!" It was meant to be light-hearted, but stone-heavy silence greeted her.

"Should we... maybe go to some of the other eras?" Marle started slowly. "Maybe once we have a basic idea of where this all started, we could go see Gaspar. At least it'd give us more than we have now."

Lucca personally would have liked to go to Gaspar right away, or at least to Melchior, but Crono seemed satisfied with the idea. Gaspar was known for being cryptic, after all. If they had at least some general idea of what was going on, it would be a mark in their favor.

"I'll bet it's the Dark ages." Crono muttered coldly. "As far as I can tell, nothing good happens in that era."

Lucca was willing to forgive Crono his prejudices, especially considering the Ocean Palace situation and the eventual goings-on aboard the Black Omen. Still, that era seemed more promising than any of the others. Deciding that it was best to act right away, - even though time was relative - she pulled the levers to lower the loading platform of the ship.

"Well, at least no one can say we lead boring lives..."

"Leaving so soon?" A rasping, croaked voice from the underbrush made her jump. "You haven't even said hello."

Lucca stared at the tattered, cloaked figure that drew from the solitude of the trees, knowing that there was something wrong with this situation, but not able to completely put the pieces together.

"Magus?"

The mage smirked coldly, clutching his side. Though he struggled to remain upright, the haughty superiority of him was still as present as ever. A little worse for wear, Lucca thought wryly, and it worried her in spite of herself. After all of the battles they'd fought, both against and alongside Magus, she'd never seen him look quite this rough before. His appearance was always as close to immaculate as it could come, his bearing and regality the only proof of the fact that he truly was once a part of the nobility.

Shaking her head to clear it, she gave him a long, hard look. All of this musing didn't do anything explain why he was here, or how on earth such a thing was even possible.

"But... but... wait a minute..." Marle tried hopelessly.

"This day officially can't get any stranger." Crono added from her side. He let his fingers slide away from the hilt of his katana easily, and Lucca followed suit by putting her gun back in its holster. Magus wasn't in any shape to be a threat. He'd been on their side at one point, though 'ally' was probably not the right word to use.

The dark mage took a few stumbling steps forward before catching his foot awkwardly and crumpling to the ground, cursing roundly and eloquently as he went. Lucca almost caught him, but kept herself back at the last minute. He wouldn't appreciate her help. Crono, however, appeared to have no such reservations. He was at Magus's side almost before the man fell, draping a pale arm around his own shoulder and grasping Magus by the waist. As soon as his hand made contact Magus cried out sharply, lurching inward against Crono to avoid the contact.

"Marle..." Lucca called, feeling foolish for not remembering that the man had been holding onto his side only moments before. From the look on Crono's face, he felt the same way. 

Marle walked toward the fallen man with her eyes closed meditatively. Murmuring quietly to herself, she lowered her hands in front of her whileher familiar faint glow pulsed outward. Lucca and Crono looked on until the light faded. Pulling himself out of Crono's grasp, Magus made to stand upright, but winced before he'd fully gained his feet.

"Some of your injuries are a little much for me. We should get you to a place where you can lie down for awhile." Marle dusted her hands efficiently, looking faintly pleased with herself. "You should be feeling better, at least." Magus nodded, but said nothing else.

"Well I, for one, would like to know just how you got here. We destroyed the gates when we destroyed Lavos. There isn't any way for a human to cross time without a time machine." Magus looked smug as he faced Crono, crossing his arms across his chest in a tame mimicry of Crono's customary stance.

"If I could explain how it happened, I certainly would. I have no more desire to be in this era than you do to have me, let me assure you." Fiery eyes glistening, he gave Lucca an appraising, slightly unnerving glance. "From what I over-heard of your conversation, I take it you mean to travel back in time, to stop this?"

"Sooner or later. I'd actually like to know exactly what's going on before I go around changing history and all." The sarcasm was a little heavier than intended, but Magus seemed satisfied with the response.

"It serves the same purpose. I'll accompany you."

"What a minute." Here Marle spread her arms expressively. "If you aren't going to tell us how you're here, you could at least say what happened. Having someone from twelve-thousand years ago just spring out of the bushes doesn't really do much for me."

Before Magus could counter with a sharp retort, Lucca stepped between them.

"He can explain on the way." She knew from experience that once the two of them got started, things could - and usually did - get ugly. Keeping her brow firm, she held her ground until Marle shrugged and made for the Epoch. Magus only smirked at her once more, pushing past her on his way to the loading ramp.

"The weak always strive to be weaker."

Ollen70: An odd place to leave off, but I promise to post more soon. Thanks to Kimi no vanilla and the lone gunman for taking the time to review. I really, truly appreciate it.


	3. Complications

Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger and it's characters are not my property. I mean no disrespect to its creators by writing this.  
  
  
Chapter Three - - Complications  
  
  
The gurus of Life, Time, and Reason had been as much a part of the culture of Zeal as anything. They were the sages, the three from whom all knowledge was eventually passed. They, as much as any monarch, were the guiding force behind the kingdom, aiding whenever they could and wielding their power in the best interests of the people.   
  
As far as anyone knew, there had always been three gurus. Not the same three, of course, but the titles were never gifted to more than one person at a time, and each guru spend the latter part of his or her life deciding who would be the successor.   
  
This was all common knowledge to any citizen of Zeal, but to Magus, it seemed more like a legend half-remembered. The gurus hadn't been as majestic or as revered during his lifetime, partly due to the interference of Lavos and his iron grip on the queen. He'd grown up seeing them more as faded promises, relics of a by-gone era that could never command all of the authority that had once been their due. In some ways, it was almost like they'd wanted it that way.   
  
Toward the end of the kingdom of Zeal, the gurus distanced themselves more and more. Only Melchior remained a part of the madness, doing his best to stem the flood of power after the creation of the Mammon machine. Eventually his own strength had failed - he'd been imprisoned on the mountain of Woe to be forgotten, and though Magus had found that to be very sad, he'd also considered it to be a fitting fate.   
  
Stand in the way of the future and you'll pay the price. Play with fire and you'll get burned. He'd said it once to Marle and Lucca on the northern cape while looking out over the ocean, viewing the fallen kingdom that had once been his home. At the time, they hadn't known the words had been as much for himself as for them, or for Crono. Meddling with time was a dangerous affair, something he now knew first-hand. Some events simply couldn't be changed.   
  
Gaspar, forever sleeping quietly beneath a lamp-post, could likely testify to that. Magus never knew for certain what the old man had seen, and it honestly wasn't of great importance to him, but it was an interesting thing to note that, while the great guru had told them of the small changes they might make in the time line, the truly great changes that Magus had always hoped for were never discussed.   
  
That simple fact, and the lingering remembrances of his ill-fated childhood, kept him from wholly trusting any of the sages. He wasn't prepared to face Gaspar again.   
  
Closing his eyes reflexively, he felt the vibrations of the Epoch through the back of his seat and leaned forward. There was nothing pleasant about time travel - he braced himself for the jump into warp, waiting for the familiar lancing sensation in his teeth that always accompanied the shift away from normal time. Wincing when the feeling finally struck, he frowned. Something nudged him in the ribs forcefully, and he opened his eyes in vexation.   
  
You still haven't said anything so far. Crono said, not facing the mage. I'd like some form of an explanation, please.  
  
Sighing mentally, he fixed the red-haired teen with a black gaze for a long moment. When Crono took no notice, he smirked to himself.  
  
There isn't much to tell. That island appeared, I went to investigate, and I ended up here. It was a vastly under-detailed description, but most of the details weren't important for them to know anyway. He knew who was behind all of this, but he still didn't really know why, or how. And those were questions he was going to answer on his own, without help from the others.  
  
Stop being difficult and tell us what happened. Lucca snapped from the Epoch's helm. Did you find anybody there? Do you know why any of this is happening? When he didn't respond, she glared forbiddingly over her shoulder. Hey, look, we don't exactly have time for you to brood, alright? If there's more going on here, and I'm positive that there is, you can either own up, or get out now. Here she gestured to the white-and-yellow endlessness that flowed around the ship.  
  
I've done that once already. I think I'll pass. He smirked at her stunned expression. And no, and I don't know much more about this than any of you. These others could be so trying. Didn't they think that if he knew why he'd been thrown 13,000 years in the future, he would have done something about it rather than lie pitifully in the forest like a vagrant, creeping out when he'd heard the sound of their voices? He'd been as surprised as anyone to find out he'd been transported to the present. It truly wasn't supposed to be possible, as they'd quickly told him. That was really neither here nor there. No matter how much they might have objected to his presence, there was nothing anyone could do about it now.   
  
Lucca gave him another glance, clearly implying that she didn't believe him. Well, that was no surprise. She was the smartest out of the three of them anyway, with a rather annoying penchant for seeing through him when she really tried.  
  
Aside from the fact that he knew, partly at least, who was behind the disturbances in time, there was very little he could have explained that they would been able to understand. The identity of the woman he'd seen wouldn't mean anything to them, so he didn't bother to mention it.   
  
What the...?  
  
Magus brought his head up, leaning rather awkwardly in the direction of Marle's voice. A cursory glance in her direction told him exactly what it was that upset her. In the midst of the usual orange glow of the warp, fleeting and dancing purposelessly, a stream of odd, bluish light hung just above the Epoch's starboard hull.  
  
  
  
Don't look at me. The inventor turned to follow the strange ribbon with her eyes. I think I'd rather not know what that is.  
  
Magus felt three pairs of eyes on him. Inwardly, he was amused. They actually thought he had something to do with all of this insanity! He wanted to laugh, but held it in easily enough. Suppressing emotion was nothing new to him.   
  
Avoid them, if you can.  
  
Lucca twisted again in her seat to glare at Crono this time.   
  
If you insist, o master of the obvious.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Complying was actually a lot harder than Lucca had thought. The streamer of light branched and split in front of her, snaking and twining in several directions at once. The further they went, the more complicated the pattern became.  
  
What the hell is going on? Accidentally grazing a patch of the bluish light the Epoch's port wing caused all of its internal alarms to go off at once. I don't know what happened, but we're losing power. I'm dropping us out of the warp.  
  
But we're not anywhere close to the Dark Ages yet, Marle commented, leaning over to look at the time dial.   
  
Doesn't matter. Either we drop out now, or we find ourselves with a burned out timeship in who-knows-when if the engine fries itself. There isn't another choice. With a grimace, she switched off the time key and watched as the fire around her faded into overcast sky.  
  
600 A.D, she said at last, checking the time gauge again. Well, Magus should feel at home, at least.  
  
And look! Marle pointed off to their right at the island, partly translucent and ghostly on the horizon. Whatever it is, it didn't appear in this era.  
  
It was fairly obvious that it was true, and it was also apparent that the Eternity,' as it was called, must have originated in the Dark Ages. Magus was being tight-lipped, as always, but there wasn't any other way to explain his appearance. No one from any of the other eras suddenly shown up in the forest, inexplicably wounded. Of course, that didn't mean they wouldn't at some point.   
  
Well, while we're here, we might as well get Glenn. I'm sure he'll want to know what's going on.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Crono watched Magus closely during the flight to Guardia castle. The mage's brow literally shone in the fettered light of the day, his hair lank and equally damp. His eye-lids seemed to be fighting against themselves in an attempt to stay open, his head jerking up abruptly whenever they closed all the way. He was breathing harder than normal, enough for Crono to be alarmed.  
  
He was spending so much energy observing the other man that he barely noticed when the Epoch finally set down. Marle and Lucca were already unharnessed and walking down the gang-way before he realized it. Without making eye contact, Magus was on his feet as well, moving unsteadily in the same direction.   
  
Are you guys coming? Lucca yelled impatiently from the ground.   
  
Magus was never ill, as far as Crono knew. After all of their trips back and forth through time, airsickness wouldn't suddenly set in now. The most likely explanation was that Marle had been right and Magus hadn't been totally healed yet, though the mage still hadn't really said how he'd come by his injuries any way.   
  
You know what, Lucca? he called back, You and Marle go ahead and get Glenn. Magus and I are gonna stay here, to save time.  
  
The young inventor shot him a quizzical look, but didn't question his decision. He was glad of that, in more ways than one. Glancing down at the gold band glittering on his left hand, he re-settled himself in the seat of the time ship. It was really no wonder that things were tense now. Everything kept changing.   
  
A rustle drew his attention back to Magus, who'd taken his seat as well without a word of protest. The normal Magus would have had something sharp or rude to say, and just as Crono was pondering demanding to know what was wrong with him, the mage slumped forward and pitched toward the metal grating of the Epoch's floor. He just managed to catch his cape in time, under-estimating how heavy the taller man really was and almost landing on top of him.  
  
He wasn't sure why, but it came as no surprise when Marle and Lucca appeared with a very unwell Glenn in tow. The knight as only loosely conscious, as pale and flushed as Magus. The biggest shock came in the fact that Glenn was, for the most part, human.  
  
Leene said he's been that way ever since he went back to the Denadoro Mountains a few weeks ago.  
  
But that doesn't make sense. Crono was confused. As far as he knew, Magus's spell was only supposed to break when he was defeated. It shouldn't have just undone itself, and Magus, though also in a state of semi-consciousness, was still very much alive.  
  
However it happened, Crono found himself suddenly trying to balance Glenn on one side and Magus on his other while they were whirring through the temporal warp once again, and from the sounds Lucca was making from the front seat and Marle's occasional gasps, things weren't any better than they had been the first time. Somehow, they made it back to the present without any problems, but neither Magus or Glenn were responding to the sound of his voice, both of them fevered and sweating heavily. Even stranger, Glenn's skin was taking on a greenish hue.  
  
Since the Epoch exitted the warp right above Crono's house, it was decided that they ought to land there. In a matter of moments, both of the men were out of the time-ship and in beds in what had once been his room, while he did his best to explain the whole situation to his mother.   
  
In the meantime, Marle had gone across the square to get a healer, while Lucca brought Lara with her to help Crono's mom take care of everything. It wasn't lost on him that this all seemed like a convenient distraction. All of this hastle, and they still hadn't even come close to figuring out what was going on - just that the most power knight and mage in the history of the world were both unconscious and a giant island that wasn't supposed to be there was still floating in the sky.   
  
He'd wondered, after they'd returned from the past, why they didn't just try to fly to the island instead of jumping through time, but Lucca only brushed off the idea when he asked her.   
  
I think we'd just pass right through it. her expression, though grim, lightened a little at the incredulity of his own. I ran some scans of it when we were in the Epoch. It's transcending time, but it isn't like the Black Omen at all. It's totally unstable. I don't understand what the benefit is for it to be like that, and I'd really like to talk to Gaspar.  
  
I wish we'd just done that in the first place, Crono remarked dourly.  
  
Hind-sight's always twenty-twenty, I guess.   
  
After that, he didn't see her for about an hour and a half, but Marle and Lara kept him busy going back and forth getting things and there wasn't much more time to reflect.   
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Pouring herself a glass of cold water, Marle lounged against the wall outside of Crono's old room. The condition of the two men inside hadn't really changed one way or the other, which was upsetting to everyone else, but she was relieved. At least they weren't getting any worse.   
  
I think I know what happened. Lucca said at last, closing the door behind her when she exited the room. Marle watched her expectantly, hoping Lucca could pull through for them like she always did. I found out some interesting things about what's been happening to Glenn since the gates closed. She adjusted her hat unconsciously while she spoke. Apparently, Magus's spells live as long as he does, or until they fulfill their purpose indefinitely. That's how he was able to use magic when he wasn't supposed to have any. All of his spells are a part of him, in a manner of speaking. Marle tried to hide the blank stare that she felt creeping up on her, but Lucca saw through it and sighed.   
  
Anyway, once Glenn returned to 600 AD and Ja.. I mean, Magus... well, anyway, once he went back to 12,000 B.C. to look for Schala, relativity took over. As far as anyone in Glenn's time was concerned, Magus had been dead for 12,600 years. The curse broke and Glenn became Glenn again after he went back to the mountains. When we brought them back into the same time, we messed everything up.   
  
Well, can we fix it by keeping them in different times? Crono asked, startling them both. He must have been standing in the stairwell, Marle told herself. Lucca didn't look as surprised as Marle felt - she simply blinked twice before responding.  
  
I don't think so. The damage is already done. The only person I can think of who might be able to take care of something like this would be Gaspar, but we have to act fast. We need both Magus and Glenn if we're gonna stop the Eternity. Glenn is a knight, and Magus is... well, a Mage.  
  
Is the Epoch still working? Marle asked, her voice belying her concern.  
  
I don't see why it wouldn't. It got us to the Middle Ages and back, even if the ride was a little bumpy. As far as I can tell, it's the only reason we still have our memories. Whoever's doing all of this has caused several incursions in the time line. Technically, nothing should seem out of place to us. I think the residual warp energy from the Epoch when we used it two years ago, - or maybe it was the energy from the gates... one or the other - made immune to temporal distortions.  
  
Once more in English, please. Crono said flatly. I think I caught maybe one word out of three.  
  
Lucca only sighed again. Never mind. But we need to get to Gaspar. Marle, if you and Crono stay here, I'll take the ship. I've made a few more modifications, so I think the interference from the Eternity shouldn't be a problem. At least, I hope it won't.  
  
Marle gnawed her lip, considering how she was going to say what she'd decided.  
  
I'm going with you, Lucca.  
  
Come again?  
  
There's another healer here. Besides, until we know what's actually wrong, there isn't anything I can cast that would do any good. We both know your own magic is strongest when you pair it with mine, and I don't like to think about what would happen if something were to go wrong while you're by yourself. It wasn't that she didn't trust Lucca to take care of herself. In all truth, Lucca's magic was as strong, if not stronger, than Marle's. She was aware that it made more sense for her to stay here and send Crono, but she didn't think Lucca would want that. Though Lucca and Crono were still friends, it didn't take a psychic to tell that things were stretched between them. Maybe stretched' wasn't as accurate as awkward.' The friendship was still there. The only difference now was that neither seemed quite sure how to recover since the wedding.  
  
Lucca didn't argue at all, which was in a way unsettling. Lucca never took anything lying down, no matter how trivial. It was one of those things about her that made her so aggravating at times. But now, her utter resignation worried Marle, just like everything else had since that stupid island appeared in the sky and the world started going crazy.  
  
Well, come on. Was all the young scientist said, brushing back her hair and lifting her hat. For once, time isn't on our side.  
  
  
  
Ollen70: This chapter doesn't feel quite right to me, so I might change some things repost it at some point. Just let me know what you think, please. Suggestions are always welcome.  



	4. The first sage

Ollen70: There's more dialogue here than before, and I think the pace might still be a bit fast, but I just wanted everybody to know that I've taken your reviews to heart. Cleansocks and anonymous,' thanks so much for your input. I'm not sure how well I do in this chapter, but I'm definitely working on it.  
  
I think that I get so carried away in putting everything down on paper that I don't realize all the things I leave out. I'm pretty new to the whole writing' thing in general, so the pointers help me tremendously. Thanks again!   
  
Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger does not belong to me. I mean no offense to its creators by writing this story.   
  
  
  
Chapter Four - - The first sage  
  
  
  
Lucca thought she was going to die by the time she and Marle stepped out of the Epoch and onto the stone bridge that docked the time machine to a stone square, the only structure in the End of Time. The flight through the warp corridor was slightly more pleasant than watching Crono dissolve into nothingness two and a half years ago. Instead of a clean, fiery void leading from era to era, the strange blue ribbons they'd seen before were thick like the threads of a spider web. Navigating around them was difficult, to say the very least.  
  
Moving into the square, Lucca could only goggle out at the bluish-white glimmer that surrounded the square on all sides like an ocean. It had been calm every time they had visited the End of Time before this, and Lucca had assumed that it never changed. Around the dock it remained calm, like it had always been, but further out it swelled and crested angrily, appearing storm-tossed and dark.  
  
Children! Come! Gaspar, the old man who guarded the End of Time, called out to them. He beckoned for them to join them near the lamp-post, the only thing other than buckets that could be found in the square. That's it, step into the light. It's much safer here. I could ask you what brings you here, but I'm old and prefer to save my breath when I can. Pointless questions only waste energy.  
  
Well, I have plenty of pointless questions anyway. Marle muttered softly, watching the ocean with a wary expression. The buckets, upturned, empty, and pitched haphazardly into the corners of the square, held Lucca's gaze as Marle spoke. Everything that used to be neat and orderly was suddenly coming apart and she couldn't say why.   
  
Yes, the Flow of Time is behaving strangely, though that is the least of your concerns at the moment. With all that has happened to the time line, I would be more disturbed if this weren't happening.   
  
You already know about Magus and Glenn, right? Lucca asked him anxiously, hoping he'd offer something more than the vague answers he was famous for. The elderly man smiled kindly, an expression that she figured was meant to make her feel better rather than to convey any kind of joy.  
  
I've stood here for a great many years, staring into the depths of time. Yes, I can see what goes on as far back as the world can remember. Things aren't always clear, but there are images. This made more sense to Lucca than she would have admitted. When the group fought Lavos, Gaspar had given them clues to newer, more favorable futures. She didn't ask at the time why he knew what he did.  
  
So then, what can we do? Why couldn't he make things simpler for anybody? Hadn't he just said that he wanted to save his breath? Calming herself, she realized how long it had been since they'd seen Gaspar last. Being cut off from any and all human contact for so long must tend to make one eccentric. But then, from what she'd heard Magus say, the gurus had always been somewhat eccentric. That's why they were gurus.  
  
He replied calmly, looking levelly into her eyes. Not without my help, at least. I'll come with you.  
  
Are you sure that's a good idea? Marle was incredulous, and Lucca could sympathize with her. There was something intrinsically wrong with the guru of time leaving the only place in existence where he could oversee time itself. She was aware that he hadn't always been standing in this little square, but it was the principle that bothered her.  
  
Things will only get worse here, whether I go or stay. If there is anything I can do, I think I should at least try. As they headed to the Epoch, Gaspar caught Lucca's arm. If you don't mind, it might be best if I pilot your ship. If the Flow of Time is so disturbed here, I can only imagine how things might be through the warp.  
  
Should we talk to Spekkio before we go? He knows more about magic and battle than anyone else. Gaspar smiled at Marle's remark.  
  
An excellent idea, though unfortunately it isn't practical at the moment. Spekkio has found somewhere else to be, for the time being. He isn't fond of storms. Stepping out of the beam from the lamppost, the guru turned to them.   
  
Stay close by me. The effects of the time storms are...unpredictable, at best.   
  
Lucca made directly for his side, determined not to let another disaster befall her before they returned to the present. In another instant, they were at the dock and stepping into the cockpit of the timeship.  
  
Sliding gingerly into the pilot's seat, Gaspar waited until the others were settled before starting the ignition sequence.  
  
I see you've put the gate key to good use. He said, giving Lucca a half-smile.   
  
As well as a sort of safety measure, the gate key had another practical purpose as a part of the Epoch. After Dalton modified the time machine, the engines overloaded. To keep something like that from happening again, Lucca wired the main starter so that the key would stabilize the ship's warp field.   
  
Are you sure you know what you're doing? She asked him timidly, not wanting to insult him, but also not wanting to be turned into a pile of ash if he did something wrong.  
  
My dear, who do you think Belthasar consulted when he started building the Wings of Time? I know this ship as intimately as he, for it was I who helped him devise a way of forming a warp. My theories weren't exactly correct, as you know from the Ocean Palace disaster, but they were enough to allow him to perfect the concept when he was sent into the future.  
  
That brings up another series of questions. Ever since their first adventure, Lucca had been longing to ask Gaspar or one of the other gurus exactly how it was the Epoch worked. She had a very general idea, and she could make superficial changes as long as they didn't directly change or interrupt any of the already-established systems, but the overall warp generation and era to era jump she didn't exactly understand.  
  
You're a very bright child, my dear, and I don't say this to insult your intelligence in any way, but there are some things that we weren't meant to understand. Even after all my years, I still sometimes wonder if the Creator really wanted me to experience the things that I have. Lucca noticed that the old man's eyes were moist now, though no tears fell from them. For the first time, she realized just how careworn he was, how tired his voice felt in her ears.   
  
The dome closed over the cockpit and the Epoch launched into warp. The normal void was once again filled with the odd blue ribbons, even more abundant now than before.  
  
See those streamers? Gaspar asked, gesturing to the shimmering bands. Those are...well, I suppose the best way to put it would be to say that those are the memories of the world. Each one leads to a particular incident or action that has a strong influence on the shape of the future. The Epoch follows one such stream each time it travels to a different point in time. It's one of the reasons you always emerge at a time in each era relative to the time that you left, unless you set the time gauge differently. Normally, none of them should be so visible. Especially that one... He pointed at one very thick, very long ribbon that led all the way through the fiery tunnel, far out of Lucca's range of sight.  
  
So, all events have threads like that? Marle asked, mirroring Lucca's own thoughts.  
  
They used to, at least. The power of Lavos destroyed several very important streamers when he was called to the surface. It was his power that keeps you from traveling to the Zeal kingdom when it was intact, or to the lair in 65,000,000 B.C. where he descended. When the seven of you killed him in 12,000 B.C. after the fall of the Omen, all of the streamers from that point changed and meshed back into the void where they belong. But now, whatever it is that upsets the Flow of Time has corrupted the warp as well. It must be repaired, and soon.   
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The Epoch hummed as it descended outside Crono's house at last, landing quietly in the grass under the light of the late sun. Marle was out of her seat, leading Gaspar behind her as patiently as she could stand before Lucca had even undone her harness.  
  
Hey! Hold on! She called, pulling the latch free and springing after them.  
  
Inside, Crono's mother and Lara sat at the dining table, sleeping on their arms. Lucca closed the door gently, trying not to disturb them, but it was of no real use. A faint thrashing came from up the stairs, and Marle took the venerable wooden steps two at a time in her haste. Throwing open the door, she flinched at the sight before her. Glenn lay, his flesh very mottled and green, but looking almost entirely human. He trembled violently, his arms and legs going in all directions at once.  
  
Crono clung grimly to the thrashing man, braving the limbs that narrowly missed his face.   
  
Hey, help me here, would you?! He called, gesturing with his chin. Glenn started this a few minutes ago, and Magus looks like he's about to do the same thing. I don't know what's wrong! I think it might be a seizure or something, but there isn't anything I can do! The healer left right after you did, to get supplies.  
  
Here, let me! Marle ran to Crono's side, light starting to pulse around her. She'd done this so many times that it was almost second nature to call on this particular healing spell whenever there was a problem.  
  
No. Wait. Gaspar's stern command brought the attention of everyone to him. Crono made a small noise of surprise, noticing the guru for the first time.  
  
Good to see you again. The old man said conversationally, shuffling Marle aside and taking her place. But there's no time for pleasantries. I would feel better if Melchior were here, but we don't have much choice. Then again, on second thought...  
  
Way ahead of you! Lucca called, tearing down the hallway. I'll be back as soon as I can. The sound of the Epoch's engines firing could be heard eerily as Gaspar pushed up his sleeves and touched two gnarled fingers to Glenn's neck.  
  
Unfortunately, I don't think we can't afford to wait. Gaspar stood up very straight, taking Glenn's right hand in both of his. The light that shone from him was blinding, filling every part of the room, but just as soon as it had appeared, it was gone. Glenn no longer thrashed, and the pigment in his skin was altogether normal. Gaspar went to Magus next, repeating the procedure a second time. Afterward, the old man staggered out into the hallway, Crono right behind him, helping him into a chair.  
  
Is...did everything..did it work? Marle asked, aware that she was blathering, but unable to clearly arrange her thoughts. Are...everything will be okay now, right? The look Gaspar gave drove out any latent hope she still held onto.  
  
I wish I could say, my child. I hope you forgive the play on words when I say that only time will tell.   
  
* * *  
  
Why didn't you go for supplies, instead of the healer? Marle asked, leaning up against Crono's chest. Not that it would have made a real difference, but she was still curious. They were sitting outside the room in the stairwell - which was thankfully peaceful, as both Magus and Glenn still asleep - on the floor. Crono looked down slightly, his eyes shaded by his hair while he contemplated her question.   
  
I didn't know what to get. At the time, everything seemed just fine here. Glenn and Magus were both sleeping. Besides, with Lara and Mom around, I thought we could handle it. He looked at her. Here's a question for you. Why didn't you set Epoch so that you could arrive back in the present right after you left? Lucca knew this was important...  
  
It isn't as easy as that anymore, I'm afraid. Gaspar had come to stand beside them. He held his hat in his hands, weariness even more visible in him now. We were lucky to make it here at all, with all of the disruptions in the warp. I hate to say it, but I think time travel isn't a possibility any longer, at least until we can determine what's happening.  
  
Marle felt Crono nod as she fought to keep her eyes open and lost. Gaspar said more, but she heard only disjointed words and sounds, already overtaken by the first touches of slumber.  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *   
  
Crono looked up at the old man before him, supporting Marle's weight against him with one arm. The elder looked down benignly, his lips pressed together in an odd sort of smile.  
  
How have the years treated you, my lad? He asked gently. As I think on it now, it's been some time since we've spoken, or at least it must seem that way to you. The passage of the years rarely concerns me any longer.  
  
Crono smirked up in return. He'd always liked the matter-of-fact air about Gaspar. The guru of time was more grounded in a sense, or at least it felt that way. He assumed Belthasar was reasonably the most down to earth of the three, but he'd never met him at his prime. Gaspar, in his mind, was the symbol of perseverance.  
  
It appears that you're fitting in as grandly as always, Gaspar continued. I'd worried about that, especially considering what you'd gone through. These things don't always work out as smoothly as one might think.  
  
Crono didn't reply right away. It was difficult for him to return Gaspar's gaze for a moment, finding himself trapped in the memory of the dying Ocean Palace and looking out at the broken bodies of his friends in the cold confines of that moment. For the first year following the defeat of Lavos, it had been difficult for him to sleep at night without going back over it in his dreams. There was never really a point at which he'd recovered from the experience - it was just that he managed to think about it very little these days, if at all. With Lavos gone and his life moving by so fast, there was no reason for him to.  
  
I'm... doing alright. How about yourself? It was a lame response and he looked at his hands as he muttered it, suddenly feeling foolish.   
  
I'm quite well, my boy. But I was wondering if you might be interested in joining me for a meal.   
  
Crono gestured to the sleeping Marle on his shoulder.   
  
I'm sure Lara or Mom wouldn't mind making you something, though.  
  
Oh, it's alright, The old guru shrugged, then leaned down and spoke more confidentially. It's just that I haven't had to eat in so long, I'm afraid I don't quite remember how it's done.  
  
Crono smiled at the old man's joke as he trudged back down the stair-case, and then it dawned on him that maybe Gaspar hadn't actually been a joke. The end of time was an odd place, after all.   
  
Watching the old man disappearing down the dim, wooden stair case, Crono smiled again. He'd always liked Gaspar best, for some reason. Perhaps it was the dreamy quality in his eyes, or the tone that was never doting or feeble, but also never cruel. There was a hooded power resting in the man's body, deep down near his core, that kept Crono from being worried. Whatever it was that was wrong with the world, it was going to be okay. As long as the gurus were on their side, everything would turn out alright.  
  
Looking down again at Marle, he lay his head back against the wall of the hallway and closed his eyes. Everything would be alright.   
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Lucca piloted the Epoch deftly through the air, her eyes dazzled by the cobalt chloride pink of the sunset, the thick trunks of cloud stretching across the sky like the fingers of God. Turning the ship away from the ethereal glow, she followed the clouds into the east, where the sky fell away abruptly into blackness. The same cloud cover that caused the brilliant sunscape behind her also kept the stars at bay, blending weight of the night with the deep, black swelling of the ocean.   
  
Increasing the output to the engines to three-fourths maximum, she kept her course steady. A quick once-over before she'd left Crono's house had revealed nothing wrong with the timeship, and Gaspar hadn't had any problems with it during their return from the end of time, but she felt safer erring on the side of caution. She got the distinct feeling that, before all of this was over, she'd have to push Epoch far beyond its comfort level anyway.   
  
Far ahead of her, the outline of an occluded land-mass told her that she was nearing her destination. Only one light was visible below, nestled at the foot of the Mystic Mountains. Melchior's hut grew quickly as she spiraled downward, eventually decelerating and drawing the wings of the Epoch in.   
  
Almost before she realized it, she was standing in front of a heavy oaken door, staring at a faintly visible carving of the Crest of Zeal in the very last light of the day. Funny how she'd never noticed that before.   
  
Come in. The voice called to her before her fist had even connected with the wood of the door. I've been wondering when you were going to get here.  
  
  
  
  
Ollen70: An odd place to let off, but there's more coming soon, I promise. Thanks for reading.   
  



	5. The pertinence of Life

  
Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger does not belong to me. I mean no offense to its creators by writing this story.  
  
  
Chapter Five - - The pertinence of Life  
  
  
  
I must confess, I thought you'd be here sooner. The guru of life sat in the dim light of his room, sharpening a blade idly. He sat in a low wooden chair, a heavy layer of soft brown leather across his lap in case the blade slipped during the process. Lucca was almost lost in between the glint of the metal and the soft rasp of the whet-stone as it slid almost of its own volition along the weapon's edge.  
  
Um... there've been delays... She said stupidly, still absorbed in the movement. When she did break free, her eyes caught and fixed on the details of the room. It wasn't the same as she remembered, though it had been some time since she'd come here.   
  
All manner of potted ferns, trees and shrubs now dominated most of the free space, their containers wrought out of metal and crested with intricate designs and patterns. Some hung in tiers from hooks on the ceiling, while still others sent out runners and vines across the wooden floor and up walls.   
  
Surprisingly enough, the room didn't feel unclean at all. The plants served to provide a sort of freshness to the air, lavender and jasmine twining together in the air to form a new, more subtle scent. Melchior didn't look up at her as she stumbled through the plants, almost falling on more than one occasion.  
  
I... you know why I'm here, right?  
  
And what makes you think that? Dark eyes dancing, he looked up at last.  
  
Um... just assumed, I guess.   
  
Melchior stood at once, rasping the blade into a black sheath that she hadn't noticed until now.   
  
You aren't far from wrong, my dear. I know what's going on, generally speaking, but the specifics are a bit more difficult to place.  
  
Well, we ought to get going. The others are waiting for us. I want to take care of this as soon as we can, personally.  
  
Can't say that I blame you, my dear. Just half a moment, though. He walked past her, lifting a battered steel watering can from a small table beside the door. I'd like to make sure everything is taken care of, before we run off.  
  
Lucca fought down a cry of exasperation. Weren't there other things more important happening right now? It was odd enough that Melchior had suddenly taken a fancy to so many different plants now anyway, and she didn't want to have to wait for him to fuss over them all before they could leave.  
  
Melchior followed her cross gaze, either misreading her expression, or purposely ignoring it.   
  
They're beautiful, no? So many different ideas, patterns, concepts, no two exactly the same. That's the perfection of life, though. Originality and conformity are useless ideas, since a thing can't help but be what it is, in one way or another.  
  
It was then that Lucca suddenly felt uncomfortable. Now that she thought about it, wasn't it Melchior who'd grown the tree of rebirth before the fall of Zeal? It was that tree alone that had changed the world into one of forests and greenery, replacing the tundras with lush boughs. Had he seen something else, some other event that had prompted all of this?   
  
As if in response to her unasked question, he quirked his eyebrows slightly, then set down the watering can with a resounding thud.  
  
Well then, shall we be off?  
  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Magus stood alone in the quiet of the room. Glenn was still asleep, surprising him by appearing in his human form in the other low bed. Magus assumed there was some large, elaborate explanation to it that he would be subjected to at some point, but since he had no memory of anything that took place after their arrival in the middle ages, he almost looked forward it.   
  
The night was not yet exorcised from the room, clinging desperately around the soft white linens of the beds, the open drawers of the low bureau and the white porcelain basin full of water that rested on its surface. Into this, Magus dipped an idle hand, appreciating the coolness of the water on his skin. He wasn't quite sure what else to do with himself.   
  
It was fairly apparent that no one else was awake yet, or if they were, they weren't in the house. There was no sound at all coming from any other part of the house, and Magus wasn't in any mood to investigate. Instead, he pushed up the and leaned out on his elbows, looking over the small court behind Crono's home.   
  
Trees stretched outward in the space, making room for themselves where they could. Anyone else, he was sure, would have known the names of their species. Skeletal frameworks of twig and branch bore the faintest traces of green at each tip, some of the buds already opening into undersized leaves. The green was sharper against the heavy gray of a sullen sky, and Magus watched it all with a sympathetic sense of disdain.  
  
As odd as it sounded, trees were a relatively new idea to him. His castle in the middle ages had no courtyards. Ozzie had no interest in green or growing things, and Magus very rarely left the confinement of the castle for any reason. Before that, he'd spent his childhood in a different kind of imprisonment. Zeal palace was just as cold and bare, and his mother had no particular love of plants either.   
  
Breathing in deeply, he caught the faintest scent of baking bread and roasted meat wafting over the gentle aroma of wet greenery and blossoming branches. His stomach growled loudly in spite of himself.   
  
Abundant food was also a newer development in his life. The first ten years in Ozzie's castle, he'd been regarded as a worthless urchin by the other mystics, only taken care of when Ozzie bothered to remember him. Scraps of crust and stringy meat were looked forward to, when he could find them. As his power grew, things changed dramatically, but it wasn't far enough in the past that he would turn from a warm meal when he could find it. In 12,000 B.C., even though most of the Earthbound were more than willing to share what they could find, his dignity kept him from eating anything that he did not hunt on his own.   
  
Pushing away the thick curtains that shrouded his resting place, Magus leaned further out the window, taking another deep breath. The breeze ventured across the bare plane of his chest, and he welcomed it fully. Like the water, it was cool - enlivening, even.  
  
Turning slightly, he looked back to where the sleeping Glenn lay. The smaller man's hair was spread out across his pillow in a wild fan, made almost sallow by the weak light of day. His skin was so pale that it was difficult to discern flesh from the billows of the sheets, and that was fairly disconcerting. Or at least it would have been, if Glenn's health had been any of Magus's concern. It was only a matter of time before the knight was on his feet and posturing again, threatening him with a fate worse than death because of what happened to Cyrus.   
  
Cyrus. That name brought back a flood of memories, none of them pleasant.   
Scratching a fingernail over the dull wood of the sill, Magus looked back to the court below. If there was any one action he truly regretted, it was that man's death. Not for the sake of Cyrus himself - after all, what was the life of an enemy, more or less? - but for the fact that, in that moment, Magus had not been in control. As soon as the blast of power left his fingertips, he knew that the action had been the forced intervention of something else. It was then that he'd learned the true power of the black wind. It was then that he'd learned just how little authority he had over the course of his own life.   
  
What dost thee...?  
  
Slow mumblings caught his attention, but he didn't bother turning. Brushing his silvered hair back with one hand, he tilted his head upward and watched the half-asleep Glenn in the reflection of the windowpanes above him.   
  
Awake at last, I see. Magus's voice was deeper than normal, still heavy with the burdens of morning.  
  
Thee... be this a dream then, if thou art here?  
  
A nightmare, you mean? I couldn't imagine you having any other kind of dream about me.  
  
Perhaps thou art correct, perhaps not. Thou holdest not such fear for me any longer.   
  
Magus scowled at that, but wasn't totally sure why. It wasn't as if he cared that the man didn't fear him, but at the same time, he felt almost as if he'd lost something. The wizard Magus was one of the most feared figures in all of history, or at least he had been - the way the time line was now, he wasn't willing to vouch for anything.   
  
  
Well, sir froggy, Magus commented caustically, well aware that the nickname wasn't accurate any longer. It looks as if we're in quite a predicament, wouldn't you agree?  
  
Glenn sniffed indignantly, shifting under the sheets. Where be the others? Dost thou know?  
  
Asleep, or gone. I haven't checked just yet. I'm still wondering exactly what I'm doing here. He turned to face the knight at last, folding his arms casually over his chest.   
  
I have little memory of such things. I remember only the arrival of the Lady Marle and the brilliant girl, nothing else.  
  
Acting on a whim, Magus flung the curtains all the way to the side, gesturing at the island floating in the distance.   
  
Do you remember that, perchance?  
  
Glenn couldn't see it from his position, since the window faced north and the island hung in the east. His brow furrowed nonetheless, obviously understanding what the object in question was.   
  
Only that it ought not be in our world. There be no way to investigate such things from my era, so it was of little concern to me.  
  
It seemed an overwhelmingly naive way of looking at the situation, and it took a great deal of restraint for Magus to keep himself from saying so. How the two of them were going to keep from pushing each other over the final edge before someone else showed up, he couldn't say. One way or another, he hoped one of the three came by soon. He was tired, and the tension of this situation, slight as it may be, was wearing on him.  
  
As if in concert with his thoughts, a whirring hum sounded in the distance. Turning to lift his crimson cowl and black cloak from their ignominious positions on the chair beside his bed, he saw that Glenn had already pulled on his light chain mail and was adjusting the green tabbard over it. Looking at each other for a moment without speaking, Magus made his way to the door. Glenn followed, two paces behind him.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
So, it appears we're all here. Melchior gestured grandly at the five people gathered in a cluster at the door to Crono's house. Lucca smiled at them, helping the guru down the metal gang-way of the Epoch. Melchior took her hand gratefully, leaning heavily on the wooden staff in his left hand. Thank you, my dear.  
  
Marle felt herself scowling unintentionally. It was too early to be chipper - or too late, one or the other. She wasn't exactly sure what time it was, but the growing pale light confirmed her suspicions. Magus had accidentally hit her in the head with the door when he'd opened it, and that was enough to leave her feeling cross, even though he'd apologized. Now that she thought about it, that was faintly surprising. Magus didn't tend to apologize often.   
  
What took you so long? She asked Lucca, not meaning to sound quite as waspish as she did.  
  
I didn't want to push the Epoch, so we took it really slow on the way back home. Lucca looked like she was about to fall over, her eyes glazed under her shock of hair. Since it was considerably longer now, she generally braided it, but several strands had escaped somehow during her adventure, and now lent an absolutely bedraggled look to her face.   
  
Gaspar stirred beside them, walking forward slowly.   
  
My old friend. Melchior's hand grasped Gaspar's at the wrist, and they embraced for a moment. How long has it been?  
  
Gaspar gave the guru of life a wry smile.   
  
Even I couldn't say.  
  
Melchior smiled in return, pushing his hat back on his brow as well. He leaned forward, his black robes shimmering like heat in the breeze, speaking in a lower tone intended only for Gaspar. Marle caught the end of the words as the zephyr shifted in her direction.  
  
...tested yourself against it? Have you felt......odd similarity...?  
  
Beside her, she noticed Lucca leaning toward them, her head cocked and her eyes closed. As if sensing Marle's gaze, she looked up and gave her a sheepish shrug, which Marle returned.   
  
In the meantime, Melchior had drawn a white cloth from the pocket of his robe, and as she watched, he unwrapped a dull fragment about half the size of hand.  
  
I have one piece left, the bit left over after I repaired the Masamune.  
  
That ought to be enough. They were talking loud enough for all to hear now, but it really didn't matter. Marle was confused.   
  
Are you ready to begin, Gaspar?  
  
Yes, I think I am.  
  
  
  
  
Ollen70: Cleansocks and anonymous, this chapter is for you. Hope you like it! The next chapter shouldn't take too long, and it should hopefully explain a lot of what's happened so far. Thanks for reading.   



	6. Light of Reason

  
To Cleansocks: I've always wondered about the tree on Death Peak as well, and that will come into the story a little later on, but the tree I was referring to was the one that belongs to the woman in the palace of Zeal, who talks about plants. She says that the guru of life gave her a magic sapling, and that she might be able to use it to regrow all of the forests in the world. Thanks for your in depth review, by the way. I really appreciate it. =)  
  
Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger does not belong to me. I mean no offense to its creators by writing this story.   
  
  
Chapter Six - - Light of Reason  
  
  
  
Crono stood still, watching the guru of time carefully. Gaspar held the fragment of red rock in one hand, closing his palm around it gingerly as if it was too warm or too sharp to hold normally. They stood on the rise of a hill not far from Crono's house, up to their knees in the grass. Gaspar and Melchior stood apart from the others, while Crono, Lucca, Marle and Glenn stood in an almost-semi circle around them. Magus was drawn off to one side, watching the stone in Gaspar's hand curiously.  
  
Above them, the floating island - the Eternity - shimmered translucently in the sun, growing brighter as the film of cloud was burned away in the face of the morning.   
  
The lips of the guru of time moved slowly, deliberately, but the words weren't loud enough and they carried enough of an air of recitation that Crono didn't pay all that much attention. There was a curious sensation emanating from the stone, a much gentler reminder of something very unpleasant...  
  
Without him trying, the memories of Lavos and the Mammon machine were immediately called to mind. The horrible scream of the beast, the metallic whirring of the royal machine, the explosions from the beast's magical power. - it all seemed so close.   
  
Adjusting the patterned headband around his forehead unconsciously, Crono looked on. By now, the piece of stone was glowing faintly, and for some reason it wasn't at all surprising. Gaspar opened his eyes, glowering angrily at the stone in his hand.  
  
It appears you were right.  
  
Melchior nodded, half-amused.   
  
You feel it, then?  
  
All too clearly. Gaspar frowned, turning at once to the rest of them. Crono felt a tinge of excitement spark through him at the glance, still fiddling nervously with the band. An ancient piece of fabric, he'd found it in a damp corner of the ruins of the Tyrano lair, when they'd gone there in search of the rainbow shell. For some reason, he was fond of it.   
  
Gaspar continued to eye them, apparently pondering some secretive thing, pacing slowly through the soft grass.   
  
You two, stand there, he said at last, moving Lucca to stand at Crono's left, and shuffling Glenn to his right. Marle moved to stand behind Crono, but Gaspar stopped him.   
  
No no, my child, you'll stand here. Now where did... oh, yes, there you are. Come here please. He gestured to Magus impatiently, ignoring the dark look he was given. The old man efficiently urged both Marle and the dark mage forward, standing back and observing his handiwork once everyone was in place. They stood once more in a semi-circle, Melchior and Gaspar in their center. Lifting the stone again, Gaspar closed his eyes.   
  
Now, each of you, I ask you to envision your element as clearly in your mind as you can, Melchior told them, a bit more patient than his counterpart. No, that isn't necessary... he walked quickly to Lucca's side and fanned out the flame that was beginning to sprout in her out-stretched palm. If we need you to actually cast a spell, we'll let you know. For now, just the idea of your element ought to be enough.  
  
Everyone else started to close their eyes and do as he asked, but Crono watched as he pulled Marle to one side.   
  
Our resident knight will be thinking of water, no doubt. I ask that you think more of the other aspects of your power, my dear.   
  
She gave him a vaguely puzzled look for a moment, then nodded. Crono smiled slightly, Melchior's purpose dawning on him. Marle was being asked to focus on life and healing, Holy magic, just as Magus was likely being asked to think of the dark magic for which he was so well-known.  
  
Without really meaning to, Crono felt his hands stretch outward, like Lucca's, once his eyes had closed. The tingling sparkle of magic built behind his eye-lids, available at a moment's notice, but waiting for his command.  
  
A ringing surge passed through his hands, and Crono's eyes flew open. In the air around Gaspar, a golden shield of light bloomed and shimmered. Across its almost tangible surface were traced lines and symbols in jet black, moving and twisting like living things as he watched them.   
  
Melchior stood some distance away, watching the goings-on without actively participating. He noticed Crono's baffled expression and gave him a lop-sided grin.   
  
Quite a sight, isn't it, lad? Well, brace yourself. Here the guru tapped the side of his nose with a forefinger and winked. You haven't seen anything yet.  
  
As if on cue, the glowing aura flashed once very brightly, then twice more, then once again, the symbols and lines flashing in accord. It suddenly occurred to Crono to look upward at the Eternity, and he noted with less surprise than he expected that it, as well, was flashing with the pulses of Gaspar's magic, flickering in and out of existence.  
  
What the...?! Beside him, Lucca had opened her eyes.   
  
Gaspar called, and Crono bore his mind down on the thought of his magic, nearly accidentally casting a spell in his vigor.   
  
When I ask it of you, cast the simplest spells you know. Melchior stood beside them now, obviously overseeing this complicated magical working. The old man's hand fell on Crono's shoulder.   
  
Even without opening his eyes, Crono could sense what was happening. A wave of magic collided with Gaspar as each of the five sent their magic outward, then culminated and burst out across them. Crono gave in and blinked his eyes open again in time to watch a smoky gray wave of power flare past them in a sphere, expanding angrily, but fading into nothingness before it got far.   
  
Not enough. We'll have to try again, Gaspar told them, still staring at the stone, the golden aura around him not disturbed in the slightest, even after they'd sent their magic at it. Nothing less than full power this time, if you please.  
  
Marveling at the old man's concentration, Crono felt Melchior's hand once more.   
  
As soon as the awesome force of the Luminaire left his body, each hair jutting on end even more than usual, Melchior prodded him with his staff. You'll want to watch this, believe me.  
  
The same foggy power expanded outward, only this time it was much more substantial. All across it were symbols and lines, much like those of Gaspar's magical sphere. Above them, the Eternity pulsed and flickered madly, then without warning, the golden glow around Gaspar exploded.   
  
Throwing his hands over his face, Crono heard the shrieks of surprise from Lucca and Marle, and the deeper, more indignant shouts of Magus and Glenn. He just focused on keeping his hands over his eyes until the overpowering pulse of magic seemed to dim. When he looked up, the Eternity was gone.   
  
Well, it seems we did it. Simple enough, I suppose. Gaspar dusted himself off industriously. I hope your mother is awake, Crono. He strode with purpose toward the house. The soup she made for me yesterday was excellent, and I find that I'm hungry again.  
  
Um... do you mind answering a question for me, Gaspar? Marle asked timidly from behind him.   
  
Food first, my dear. Questions can come later.  
  
Dropping her hands to her side in exasperation, Marle looked at Crono skeptically. He gave her a sympathetic shrug.  
  
He's still getting used to the concept of eating again.   
  
This has gotta be the weirdest week ever.  
  
Even weirder than when you traded places with queen Leene? Crono commented lightheartedly. That was pretty weird, you have to admit.   
  
She fixed him with a black look.  
  
You don't wanna start with me right now, Crono.  
  
Whistling between his teeth, Crono followed her, smiling to himself. Behind him, the others filed in as well.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Magus watched the others move into the house, but stayed where he was. The Eternity wasn't gone; he wasn't sure how he knew, but something in his core told him it couldn't be that easy. As powerful as the gurus were, even they didn't hold that kind of might. A bit of magic and a shard of dreamstone weren't enough to obliterate a flying island, as much as he wished it could be. Gaspar had obviously done something, but Magus wasn't willing to guess what.  
  
The air above him felt strangely empty - lonely, even. Though the floating island held secrets he wouldn't share with the others, and though it was a gross, convoluted version of his old home, part of him recognized that it was likely as close to the kingdom of Zeal as he was ever going to come. And, once again, it was gone.  
  
Zeal and its inhabitants had sinned against both nature and time, and it was likely that what befell them was their just due. Arrogance and impetuosity of their caliber had certainly warranted punishment - but time, apparently, wasn't above holding a grudge. The sky hated the kingdom of Zeal and wouldn't let even a remnant of it remain among the clouds. Once again, Magus and the old men were the only relics of that once-glorious kingdom in this era.   
  
Walking without destination or purpose around Crono's house, he found himself standing in the courtyard, gazing up at the curtained window on the second story. Glenn must have drawn it closed again, or maybe Lucca or Melchior was taking a rest. Either way, it wasn't really his concern.   
  
The emptiness of the day wasn't as stark here, so he stayed in the green shadows of the trees for awhile. Raucousness wasn't something he was used to. It was better to bask in the quiet for as long as he could, especially since he couldn't shake the lingering feeling that his days of quietness were almost up. Gaspar and Melchior didn't yet know the identity of the woman they were up against, but things were bound to get interesting as soon as they did. He supposed he'd have to tell them at some point, but it could wait. He was in no mood to stir up a hornet's nest.   
  
Breaking off a spray of white, double tiered flowers from a nearby branch, he turned them slowly in a gloved hand. Their scent mingled with that of the blanched leather, making it sharper instead of sweeter.   
  
Everything was changing, he realized. Especially the others. It was only logical that they should, but somehow he found that he resented it. Glenn's changes were probably the most ridiculously obvious. Lucca, once the awkward scientist, was now a blossoming young woman. Marle's charisma had dimmed, settling into a more acceptable glow in place of her once-blinding passion. And Crono...   
  
That one was a bit more difficult to classify. Magus had never professed to know the red-haired young man particularly well, having become a member of their bizarre little collective after his departure, but the... aura... around Crono was different now.   
  
How odd that they were afforded change, was none was to be allotted him. Not that it mattered. Magus was used to his role as the bland villain, the mortal embodiment of one solitary idea. He was vengeance, and little else. It was fitting that he should feel himself fading, now that his purpose had been fulfilled.   
  
A flash out of the corner of his eye brought Magus's attention. A gray-robed figure in a square hat stood just to the edge of his vision. Apparently he'd been mistaken, and Melchior hadn't gone into the house at all. Not particularly excited at the prospect of an exchange with the guru of life, Magus turned wearily, drawing his cloak with him as he did. About half-way through the motion, he stopped dead.  
  
  
  
Belthasar tipped his hat slightly, an odd smirk off to the side of his mouth. Beside him, the bright blue, barely awake Nu confirmed that it was indeed Belthasar who stood before him, and not merely some figment born out of his imagination.  
  
Were you expecting anyone else?  
  
Magus drew back his cloak. He wasn't going to be caught gaping, even though this situation made little sense. After all, it had been some time since his life made any sort of sense. Why on earth would that unsettle him now?  
  
Would I be wasting my time if I asked   
  
The guru of reason eyed him intensely for a moment. For all intents and purposes, he looked no different than he had at the very last moment Magus had seen him, just before the disaster in the Ocean Palace.   
  
Well, that would depend on what you consider a waste, I suppose.  
  
Magus only snorted lightly. He should have expected as much. Belthasar prided himself on being as cryptic - if not more so - than Gaspar, a trait Magus hadn't forgotten from his days as a child, under the tutelage of the three men.  
  
Considering Magus's dead expression for a moment, Belthasar reached into his pocket. What he withdrew was wrapped carefully in white linen, and he unfolded the fabric with the time-learned patience of any sage. In his grasp glittered a fragment of stone much like the piece Gaspar had used earlier. The others might not have known the identity of the substance at sight, and in truth, neither did Magus, but he winced at the overpowering sensations that flowed outward from the stone like the ripples formed by raindrops.   
  
I trust this answers some of your questions, at least? The old man gave him a self-satisfied shrug before returning the stone to its wrapping.  
  
Not nearly as many as it raises, Magus replied. I trust whatever Gaspar did earlier this morning, it is part of the reason why you've come?  
  
A very large part, in fact. But let's not go into this here, if you don't mind. Nudging the Nu forcefully with his short staff, Belthasar pointed it in the direction of Crono's front door, and it stumbled off, invariably drifting off and nearly falling on its way.   
  
Impossible creatures, the Nu, Belthasar muttered gruffly, watching it as it went. Useful, in their own right, but impossible just the same. Turning back toward Magus, he matched him with a mocking glower.  
  
You young people, always expecting detailed explanations of everything. Out of everyone, you'll likely understand most of what I say a bit better than everyone else, but I prefer to explain it once and be done with it, if you don't mind.  
  
When Magus didn't respond, he shuffled off after the Nu.  
  
There was one question at the forefront of Magus's mind, though he couldn't say why. When the guru of Reason paused, Magus adjusted the hem of his cloak again.  
  
Where's the metal creature, if you've come from the future? Did he not insist on joining you?  
  
Belthasar waved off the question as if it were an angry fly and kept on his way. Apparently noticing several steps into his journey that Magus was not following, he whirled back around with surprising agility.   
  
Well, are you coming?  
  
Letting the spray of flowers fall through his gloves, Magus shouldered himself and left the garden. As peaceful as it was here, and as loathe as he was to admit it, Belthasar had intrigued him. Magus had been right after all - things were only just beginning to get interesting.  
  
  
  
  
Ollen70: I promise that you won't have long to waitMost of chapter seven is already done. Thanks a million to Cleansocks, anonymous, Kimi no vanilla, and the lone gunman for taking the time to review.


	7. All who gather here

Ollen70: Thanks to Trevor X1, None of your Business, cleansocks, anonymous, Lone Gunmen, and kimi no vanilla for taking the time to review thus far. I really, truly appreciate it.   
  
Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger does not belong to me. I mean no offense to its creators by writing this story  
  
  
  
Chapter Seven - - All who gather here  
  
  
  
Gaspar looked up from the bowl of porridge he was spooning with great slowness from the white porcelain bowl into his mouth. His left hand was poised with a white linen napkin, in case he proved to be poor at balancing the spoon. Well, I was wondering when you might show up.  
  
Whirling around to see to whom the guru spoke, Crono blinked rapidly. Were his eyes deceiving him? He caught his balance when a bright blue hulk emerged from behind the guru and pushed its way into a secluded part of the kitchen. Though Crono's mother gave a surprised shout, his attention was more on the gray man in the doorway.  
  
Aren't you... didn't you...? He stuttered stupidly at Belthasar, not really knowing how to say what he wanted to ask.  
  
What the...? Marle and Lucca nearly fell over each-other on their way down the stairs, and Crono thought he saw Magus, who had entered behind the guru of reason, smother a brief smile.  
  
Man, this really IS a weird week. Marle glanced at the guru almost reproachfully. How exactly did you get here, anyway? Isn't time travel supposed to be impossible without something like the Epoch?  
  
Apparently realizing the inherent flaw in this last comment, Marle looked slightly abashed. Oh. Right. You built the Epoch.  
  
But that still doesn't explain how he got here, Lucca cut in, and I, for one, am interested. Care to enlighten us?  
  
Crono didn't gainsay her that one. Though he didn't share Lucca's knowledge of the space-time continuum and the scientific aspects of time travel, he'd had plenty of intimate experience in those areas. Belthasar laughed quietly.  
  
Be careful with questions like that, my child. You might not want to know the answer. The implications of time-travel are never easy. For instance, you changed the future when you defeated Lavos, right? Waiting until she nodded dubiously, he went on. Yet it was the state of the future that caused me to build the Wings of Time again in the first place. So, if I arrived in a well-balanced future - and I assure you that that is the case - then who built your time machine? The guru's eyes glittered with amusement.   
  
While Crono shook his head in amazement, Lucca snorted.You people and your temporal paradoxes. I swear...  
  
Melchior's cry of delight brought all eyes to the top of the stairwell. So it appears our little endeavor was successful, then. I'm glad. As the guru of Life lumbered down the stairs, Belthasar took the opportunity to look over each of the people in the room. Crono was sure they made quite the picture. Glenn slumped in the sofa by the stairs. Marle and Lucca were still hanging awkwardly over the banister, and Magus had pressed himself into a corner, wrapped in his black cloak.  
  
Hmm. Nice to see you all so hard at work...  
  
Brushing off the dry comment, Lucca helped Melchior down the last few steps. Belthasar, where's Robo? I was kind of hoping...  
  
Your friend is doing quite well. Since I didn't know what exactly to make of the Island in the sky, and my attempts to travel through time while it was in the air were unsuccessful, I asked that he stay behind, in case something else should happen in that era while I was gone. Lifting up a polished object, he turned so that all could see it. Lucca gasped.  
  
The... gate key?  
  
Indulging her with a smile, he nodded. Indeed. A remarkable piece of technology that will last another 1,300 years. Of course, with a few modifications and a strong enough power source, it was a simple enough to expand upon its original purpose.  
  
Holdest, thou. Glenn held up one hand. It was his first movement since Belthasar had arrived, and everyone jumped. Ignoring this, Glenn locked his fingers and leaned over his knees. Thou weren't able to travel through time while that... He paused, searching for a word, monstrosity...hovered in the air? What in it held such power?  
  
It could transcend time.  
  
How would you know that? Crono looked at Magus blankly. He'd felt some odd emanations radiating from the floating islands, much like those that rippled outward when Gaspar had banished the thing, but he hadn't thought much about their meaning. Lucca mentioned something about the Eternity being in some sort of strange temporal state, and the more he considered it, the more sense it made.  
  
Magus shrugged, sinking back into the corner. Gaspar gave him a considering look, then pushed the bowl away, rising.  
  
Janus is right. It was transcending time, but not neatly. I'm not sure how, but I wonder if perhaps some sort of accident pushed it into that state. The Black Omen didn't cause such a mess of the time stream when it appeared - I can only assume that the mage behind this newer creation didn't mean for it to pass into the warp.  
  
Crono tried to make sense of that and failed.   
  
Well, we put it back to where it came from, right? Marle asked. When Gaspar nodded, she smirked. Then, we can go find it, can't we? If it isn't in that weird phase any more, can't we just go take care of it?  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
As there is only so much room in the Wings of Time, the three of us will find our own way there. Gaspar said, kneeling down to trace patterns on the grass. He nudged the drowsing Nu out of his way, and the other two gurus drew close to his side.   
  
Lucca wanted to argue, but couldn't come up with a reason why she should, so she turned with the others and headed toward the Epoch. The three gurus had never been together in her presence before. If the rumors among the Earthbound of their power had been even remotely accurate, then they could likely make their way through time without the gate key, if they chose.   
  
Gaspar could loosen the grip of time, Melchior could restore forests and forge unstoppable swords, Belthasar could design and build devices that defied the farthest reaches of the imagination... But what worried her was that, in one way or another, the Eternity had already mimicked the strengths of both Belthasar and Gaspar. Did any of them really know what they were getting themselves into?  
  
Settling herself into the pilot's seat of the Epoch, Lucca looked back over the others. Marle had claimed the front seat, while Crono sat diplomatically between Magus and Glenn in the back. It probably wasn't really necessary, but it was a wise precaution. She actually hadn't heard underhanded boasts from the sorcerer or old English diatribes about the evils of treachery from the knight, but she wasn't interested in pushing her luck. Everybody was tired from the goings-on of the last few days, but things could - and would- change, and she wanted to be on top of everything.   
  
The Epoch smoothly made the jump to warp, launching itself into the burning void without a single hitch. Lucca wasn't quite sure whether to be relieved or highly wary, so she managed a strange combination of both. Around her, the fires of the warp flared without inhibition. There was no sign of a single streamer, or anything else for that matter. Not waiting for the other shoe to drop, she powered up the engines as far as they would go, set the ship's time gauge for the dark ages, and headed for the warp's exit point.   
  
As the oranges and yellows faded into deep, gray blue of ocean, Lucca cut their momentum and nosed the ship in the direction of the Earthbound island.  
  
Wow. That went... well. Marle said from beside her, wrinkling her nose. I'm worried.  
  
Lucca smiled, about to reply, when a shout from the back seat caught her attention.   
  
Hey, look! There it is! Crono pointed to a massive figure in the sky, floating over the jutting mountain that was the sun keep. It was an odd bluish color in the rising light of the morning. Looks like we got the right time-frame after all.  
  
Of course we did,' Lucca thought silently. He was right when he said nothing good happens in this era.' Looking over her shoulder, she noticed Magus watching her, a curious expression on her face, almost as if he somehow overheard her thought. Feeling foolish, she kept the Epoch on its course, initiating the landing sequence as they approached the last village.  
  
Now, all we have to do is find... Lucca didn't get a chance to finish her thought before the snowy turf in front of their ship suddenly rippled and burst outward. The three gurus stood in its place.   
  
Well, this is new, Belthasar said, moving close to the Epoch with the Nu at his side. He tapped a finger on the retracting metallic wing of the ship. Did you make this modification?  
  
That would be Dalton. Marle said the name with raw disgust. But that's a story we can get into later. Don't you think we should do something about...? She let her voice trail off, clambering down the gangway while gesturing at the Eternity. The longer I look at it, the more I want to get rid of it.  
  
Methinks that the sentiment be well-placed, lass. No thing such as this come-th without consequences. It presages uncomely things, I fear. Glenn drew the Masamune from its sheath, brandishing it experimentally a few times.   
  
Enough waiting. Everyone turned to look at Magus, who'd drawn his weapon as well. He ran once finger along the length of the curving scythe, not paying attention to Lucca's quailing face at the trail of red that it left. I've done enough of it. No more. Let us go on our way, and finish this.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Shouldering the scythe, Magus made his way to Gaspar. The plans had been laid out easily enough; The three gurus, Magus and Lucca would take the Epoch to the Eternity. Crono, Marle and Glenn would wait for them, and Lucca would come back down to get them at once if it seemed that they were needed. As far as Gaspar had explained, it was to be a reconnaissance mission and nothing else. Once they knew what they were up against, they could strategize more effectively.   
  
There had been some talk of traveling into the prehistoric era to enlist the help of the barbarian chief, but Lucca had objected. Magus didn't blame her. Ayla was very likely the common ancestor that untied all five of them, in one way or another. Risking her life in their mission had been a necessity the last time, but now that it wasn't essential, it was better if she stayed where she was. From what he'd heard Marle say of it, he understood that temporal non-existence was not a pleasant experience.  
  
Walking silently alongside the guru of time, Magus tried to arrange his thoughts as best he could. This wasn't going to be an easy conversation, but it was a very necessary one. The old man looked ahead as he walked, apparently aware of Magus's presence, but focused on keeping his footing amid the snowy fields.   
  
  
Is there something I can do for you, lad? Gaspar asked without looking up.  
  
There is something you should know. Something I might have mentioned sooner,' he added silently. The perpetrator behind all of this... she is no stranger.  
  
Stopping, Gaspar turned and faced him, pushing back his bowler to look more directly into Magus's face. You're certain?  
  
Of course, Magus shot back, slightly put out.   
  
Gaspar nodded, his eyes at once becoming a bit vacant. It is as I feared.  
  
You assumed this?   
  
Not immediately, as I perhaps should have, but I cannot say that I'm surprised. We all knew she could be capable of falling away. Gaspar kicked at the snow lightly and swore under his breath. I hoped it would never come to this.  
  
Magus pulled his left glove on more firmly, carefully studying Gaspar. We ought to wait. We shouldn't face her before we know more than we do right now.  
  
Gaspar cast a calm eye in his direction, then started forward after the other gurus. That will solve nothing. She should not have the power that she does, and the longer we wait, the more of an advantage she has. No, we must end this as soon as possible, when she still has a reason to fear us.  
  
Magus scowled, but said nothing. He didn't want to do this, and it was more than probable that the others wouldn't either, if they knew the truth of this situation, but it seemed that there wasn't really any other choice.  
  
Melchior thought things might be this way, and no doubt Belthasar had his suspicions as well. We will deal with her. This is a mistake of the past and needs to remain there. She will be given no quarter, I can tell you that much. Gaspar reached into his jacket pocket and Magus thought he saw a spherical object outlined within the brown fabric. Gaspar closed his eyes for a long moment, all the while never checking his speed. When he spoke again, his voice was so soft that it was nearly swallowed by the icy breath of their surroundings.   
  
All things have an End.  
  
  
  
Ollen70: More is coming soon. Thanks for reading.


	8. What was lost

  
  
Ollen70: Yes, this is short, but it's a fairly important segue. The next one will be considerably longer.   
  
Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger and it's characters are not my property. I mean no disrespect to its creators by writing this.  
  
Chapter Eight - - What was lost  
  
Passing through the barrier around the Eternity was not as stark as Magus remembered, but it was still not exactly pleasant. His teeth still throbbed, and from the look Lucca cast him, she felt the same way. The five of them exited the Epoch quickly after she set it down in a green field some distance from the other buildings.  
  
Magus set a brisk pace from the time machine back toward the palace, speaking hesitantly to Gaspar about what had transpired between himself and the woman during his first visit here. Oddly, there were no people anywhere this time. No noise came from the buildings, and for all anyone could guess, it seemed as if no one had ever been there at all.   
  
You're certain, then, that it was her?  
  
he returned, as flatly as always. Gaspar had already asked him several times, and he was beginning to lose what little patience this whole debacle had left him.   
  
And the globe you saw, what exactly did it look like?  
  
Magus described it to the best of his ability. The more he spoke, the more Gaspar's brow furrowed roughly, a ravine of worry forming above his eyebrows. This caused Magus pause. The guru of Time was never worried, no matter the circumstances. Magus had seen him show sorrow, surprise, and a faint degree of regret, but never to a great degree, and worry was strictly unheard of.   
  
If she is rising, I should have sensed it. I should have seen it. She shouldn't have gained such power so quickly, without anything to give her away.  
  
You're keeping secrets, old man, Magus admonished blandly. If you know more of this, I suggest you speak of it.  
  
Don't trifle with me, boy. Gaspar's voice nearly froze him where he stood. You'll discover it soon enough, and wish that you hadn't. I'm sorry that any of you had to be involved in this. That woman you saw is not at all what she appears, or what you remember. You would do well to bear that in mind.  
  
Sufficiently chastened, Magus fell into step with the man and kept silent. His ego wanted to avenge itself, but the shock at seeing Gaspar so upset was stronger. Not for the first time, he regretted giving in to his curiosity at all and exploring any of this. It had nearly killed him once, and it very well might before everything was said and done.   
  
You... you know her well, don't you?  
  
That would be something of an understatement, the old man parried, not looking at Magus, but it had llittle place in the here and now. Focus on the task at hand, if you wish to be useful.  
  
Gaspar's curtness had always been something Magus had admired. Even around the queen, the old man was always perfectly blatant, never wasting time mincing words like many of the coucillors or that witless fool, Dalton. His brevity now was more worrisome than admirable, however. There was tangible secrets around him, hanging in the air like moths, or like the ever-present snowflakes below them. The long winter, it would seem, was far from over.   
  
x x x x x x x x x x x x  
  
Lucca followed in line behind the others, being rushed along by Belthasar's Nu. The blue creature stayed very close behind her, bullying her forward expressionlessly. When she pushed back in annoyance, it relaxed itself to absorb her momentum and then pushed at her again. Belthasar looked back from time to time and smiled, giving Lucca a sympathetic eye. When she asked what was wrong with the blue creature, he broke into a grin.  
  
Who can say? The Nu are much older than our race. I have my share of theories about what they are, but in all truth, they are a mystery and might always be.   
  
The Nu made no response to any of this, not indicating that it had heard anything that was said, but Lucca knew better than to be taken in by the act. At one point, Belthasar gave all of his memories to this Nu. Though that was a future that no longer existed, who knew if there were any lasting implications because of that action? She shook her head wearily. Nothing about time travel was simple.   
  
Quickening her stride, she found to her lasting annoyance that it kept perfect pace with her, staying right on her heels until she ducked behind magus. Even then, it stayed close by, like a menacing blue wall.   
  
Keep me out of your nonsense, he told her blithely, but he made no move to shove her away.   
  
Keep that thing away from me. The Nu didn't venture much closer, but its large eyes rolled almost frantically in its head and the wiry blue arms waved deliriously. No matter how much she was around them, Nus always unnerved her. She didn't know how Belthasar put up with them.   
  
Quietly now, Gaspar said, giving all of them a long stare that wasn't quite a glower. They had come close to a large pearl-colored building, much like the old palace of Zeal, but larger and, if it was even possible, many times more splendid. He gestured at the stairs before them, guiding all of the others before him.   
  
This is very likely a trap, and we must be prepared to deal with whatever we find inside. There is very little here that feels pleasant to me.  
  
Silently agreeing, Lucca drew her wondershot, concealing it slightly under the leather of her tunic. Magus already had his scythe in his hands, and she wondered pointlessly for the fiftieth time where it went when he wasn't using it.   
  
Melchior took the lead, which Lucca found a bit strange. He had no weapon,but there was something about his spectacled eyes that made Lucca very glad she was in his good graces.   
  
At the top of the stairs, the guru of Life pushed open a heavy wooden door. The resounding crash of it closing behind them made all of them jump, except for the Nu.   
  
She'll be in the throne room, if she is expecting us. That's where I found her last time, and there's something in there that you might want to see anyway.   
  
Lucca didn't pay much attention to Magus; she was busy looking over the massive hall that was nearly identical to the common room of Zeal palace, right down to the obscure statues and the large potted plants.   
  
This way, he said. His pace was brisk, but fairly nonchalant. She wasn't exactly sure how he did it, since she herself was burning with nervous energy, but who really knew what went on in the mind of the dark mage?  
  
Climbing the last flight of stairs before a dark, open doorway, Magus paused. I don't vouch for what will happen, but be prudent if you value your lives. The last time I faced her, I nearly lost mine...  
  
That was an unfortunate accident, my dear Janus, Came a smooth, elegant voice. A figure stepped through the ivory arch, her sillouette all that was visible in its shadow. Beside her, Gaspar gave a low growl.   
  
Lorraine. How have you lived?  
  
A mystery to you, guru of Time, I'm sure. But that is of less consequence of what I have done with my life since we last parted ways. The woman's - Lorraine's - face was very beautiful, as she stepped into the light of the antechamber before the throne room. Gaspar and the others backed up instinctively, pushing Magus and Lucca backward with them.   
  
In robes of light blue and an ornate headdress much like the one the old queen of Zeal wore, Lorraine cut a very imposing figure. Lucca was sure that, had the woman commanded it, she would have bowed. Feeling the woman's eyes graze her face, she ducked her head.   
  
It seems that Janus has brought me guests, has he not? Though it would be dishonest to say that I have not long expected you at any rate.  
  
Who are you? Lucca barely whispered it. Lorraine turned to face her sharply, smiling coldly.   
  
Have you not been told, dear girl? Have they kept me a secret from you? Are they ashamed to tell you my tale? When no one answered, the woman threw back her head and laughed. I am the forgotten menace then, am I? The one of which no story is told? Hear me, dear girl, and know that you lay eyes upon the shame of Zeal. I am the fourth guru.   
  
Ollen70: A great deal will be explained in the next chapter. Please be patient with me, and don't lose faith. I hope to have the next chapter up more quickly. Thanks for taking the time to read over this. Comments and suggestions, as always, are very greatly appreciated. 


	9. The Unattainable

Ollen70: Normally, I hate original characters introduced into established fanfiction, so Lorraine is not an original character. It's a stretch, of course, and a very, very large one at that, but she's an elaboration on an existing character. If you're fairly familiar with the game and the random character dialogue, you'll probably be able to place her.   
  
If you're worried about her becoming some sort of Mary Sue, I can proudly and happily lay your fears to rest. I wouldn't put you (or myself, for that matter) through that.   
  
Also, I've never played Chrono Cross, and I have no idea how that game factors into the story of Chrono Trigger, but I've taken some serious liberties with some things, like the Entity. Please don't kill me for it.   
  
Lastly, I owe a huge thank-you' to Bionicman and AnimeRachiru for leaving their reviews. It's always great to know what you guys think. I really, truly appreciate it.   
  
Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger does not belong to me. I mean no offense to its creators by writing this story.  
  
Chapter Nine - - The Unattainable  
  
That's not possible... there are only three... Lucca's head swam, babbling denials that she knew would not hold. The other gurus watched this exchange in silence, all three bearing expressions that she couldn't read, but it didn't take her genius to determine that they were far from pleased.   
  
Lorraine laughed again, sounding even colder than before. Who are you to judge what is possible, my child? Does your arrogance know no bounds? Why should there not exist probabilities beyond your ability to discern them? _You _ are certainly no guru.  
  
And neither are you, Lorraine. You were cast out of our order, out of our keeping. You have no claim on the title of guru, now or ever. If not for Lavos, and your sway over the queen, you would have been cast from Zeal altogether, banished to the frozen world with the earthbound that you so hated.  
  
Lucca watched the woman's face twist and contort, and nearly cried out all at once. This woman was not a stranger, as Lucca had first assumed. The elegant demeanor, the haughty smile... She had seen this figure before, not two years earlier, when she and the others had first come to the kingdom of Zeal.   
  
_I sense in you a strange aura,' _the woman had smiled with such placation at her in the libraries of Kajar. _You must have the skill as well, but it must be very primitive compared to mine...' _The smile had grown colder - crueler - then. _Poor things...'  
  
Can you feel it, the flowing power of the mighty Lavos? Do you not feel his all-consuming emanations... the last power touches of his power? Oh, I feel faint...' _Again, Lucca remembered seeing the woman's face before the chamber of the Mammon machine, robed in blue and while rather than orange and yellow, but the face was the same.   
  
Perhaps she has a right to know. It was Gaspar's voice that broke into her fog of remembrance. Perhaps I should have told them all, long ago, when I first met them. I always believed, until the very day that Zeal fell into the ocean, that you would somehow be a threat. Lorraine didn't respond, so the guru turned his attention to Lucca.   
  
There are... customs.... regarding the guru, and the knowledge that each guru comes to guard. We must choose one to hold dear, to teach and to mold, until the day comes when they are worthy to take their place among the lineage of the guru. It seems that I chose... poorly...  
  
I would not gainsay you, old man. I learned, with each passing day, that Time exists to be shaped. Time alone can forgive all wrongs, and it shall. I learned its ways well, even though it was not that aspect of Enlightenment that truly interested me. It was in the ways of magic that my interest lay.  
  
And because of you, and the others like you, magic was restricted! Because of your meddling, it was locked away for nearly 13,000 years, when it could have been benefiting all of mankind! It was Belthasar who spoke now, drawing up to his full height as he challenged Lorraine. All of the knowledge we build and cultivated, you, and he, threatened to destroy! If the he' Belthasar spoke of was Lavos, things made a degree more sense, but Lucca wasn't sure. Lavos was gone, but Lorraine was not. If she had been tied to Lavos in the same manner that the queen of Zeal was, his death should have freed her.  
  
What of your learner, guru of Reason? Do you care to tell the girl what became of him? It is no secret from the rest of us, though I am sure you are not eager to recount it... a glitter grew in her dark eyes. Surely she should know of _your _failure, if all things are to be fair. Belthasar said nothing, and she laughed again. Clicking her tongue mockingly, she drew closer, and again Lucca found herself stepping backward.   
  
You should tell her, Belthasar. Tell her how your learner fell almost at once to the influence of Lavos and was turned before your very eyes. The one who helped you build your great inventions, who labored beside you on the Wings of Time. Tell her how Dalton fell.  
  
Lucca couldn't stop an astonished gasp at that. How was any of this possible? Was she dreaming? _Dalton, _the madman who had captured Schala and nearly killed them all? _Dalton, _who had claimed ownership over the world after the continent of Zeal was gone...?  
  
Yes, you were our learners, Lorraine. But we could not have expected our betrayal. You saw to the poisoning of Dalton, breathed the lies of immortality into the queen's ear. Melchior spoke now, gripping his staff in white hands. Failure, for any of us, would mean not facing you. It was no secret to us that this day must come, at one point or another.   
  
Are we not all sinners? Are not all sins equal, in the end? How, then, could you call my hopes, my dreams, or my transgressions any darker than your own?  
  
Penitence would not suit you, Lorraine. You have never humbled yourself to anything. Forgiveness only comes to those who seek it.  
  
The smile was back again. Be that as it may....  
  
Melchior brandished his staff threateningly. Against one of us, there may be hope for you. Against three, not even you can prevail.  
  
I do not fear you, guru of Life. I have mastered my element and can use it to its full potential here. I claim title of the guru of Magic, and expect to be honored in due course! Bow, surrender, and I may find you worthy to rebuild the world at my side!  
  
x x x x x x x x x x x x  
  
It wasn't possible for Marle to say exactly how much time had passed since the Epoch had vanished. Each moment felt like an Aeon on its own, staring up at the sky where the floating continent still loomed. She wished - not for the first time - that the Gurus had decided to take her with them.  
  
_No sense in worrying about it now,' _she told herself, but there wasn't any way to help it. Frog had said something once, back when he had been Frog and not Glenn, about how the past always existed, and doubt could never really be erased. There was a soaring sense of loss, of darkness, that permeated the frigid air around her.  
  
Turning, she examined the ice-claimed birches around her without real interest. Glenn and Crono had gone with the village elder to discuss one thing or the next, accepting the guru's claim that they had everything under control, but Marle had chosen to stay in the commons. After everything that had taken place, time-travel still made her anxious.   
  
The white, striated bark of the tree nearest her was smooth under her palm. It was a great deal like another tree she remembered very clearly, one that probably no longer existed. It was good that Chrono was not nearby just now. His presence might have prompted her to finally ask the question that had troubled her for nearly two-and-a-half years.   
  
_What if it had been me, or Lucca? One of us who wasn't heralded as a great hero?' _She broke away a small, straggling twig from the trunk's side, smiling at it sadly. _Would time have made an exception for us, too?' _Perhaps it wasn't truly a fair question. In a manner of speaking, Time actually had made an exception for her already. After the disappearance of queen Leene, Marle would not have existed if it hadn't been for the others. But something about the memory of nothingness, the vague hints of the dark void that she still felt in her dreams... those were the reasons she made the voyage to the Cathedral near Porre every day, before dawn. Those were the times when she wished the burdens of Time had never been laid on any of them.   
  
It was selfish, to think of things like that, but she couldn't help it. At least this way, she felt honest. It was more like lying when she didn't let her thoughts travel in this direction, and it was time she let the doubts go. If at some point in all of this she was called on, she would go with all of her being. Nothing would hold her back, not even the hesitation of her own mind.   
  
Do you find what you seek? A young, very beautiful woman stood beside her looking up into the branches of Marle's tree rather than at her face.   
  
I... I beg your pardon? Marle asked, slightly taken aback. The woman, in her yellow kerchief and rust-colored dress of the old order of the Enlightened, was familiar in some odd way. Do we know each-other? The woman laughed kindly.  
  
I could hardly help remembering you. It was you who planted my tree. It does my heart good to know that you care for them still. She set a pale hand on the birch's trunk, just below Marle's. They deserve to be cared for.  
  
The woman who cared for trees, the one who had given them the tree of Life after the fall of Zeal. Marle's recollection must have shown on her face, because the woman smiled again.   
  
I see that you remember now. The tree born out of hope and promise, my sapling...  
  
Wait a minute, Marle drew back, reeling. Your sapling? I could swear I remember you saying the guru of Life gave it to you...  
  
Did I? The air shimmered around the woman's form, and she was gone. Only her voice still lingered, sounding as kind and as sincere as it had before. Perhaps I did say that. Forgive me, for misleading you...  
  
Ollen70: Sorry for the huge break between chapters. The next one is mostly done already, so it'll be up here shortly. Thanks for reading thus far.


	10. The cost

  
  
Ollen70: Many, many thank-yous to Preventer Squall, One Winged Kuja, Bionicman and Anime Rachiru for taking the time to review for me. It really helps so much to hear what people think.  
  
I'm sorry - once again - that it's taken an eternity and a half to get this chapter into working order, but thank you so much to the people who've stuck out the wait for me. I most definitely plan to finish this story, and hopefully fairly soon.  
  
Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger does not belong to me. I mean no offense to its creators by writing this story.  
  
Chapter Ten - - The cost  
  
The floating continent in the sky still hung there, suspended ominously like a lowering cloud above the northern cape, and Chrono watched it with a certain amount of irrevokable dread. He forgave himself for it, considering his own experiences with Zeal the last time they were sent here by fate, and he couldn't help but feel a very strong twinge of guilt as he looked upward from amid the trees of the commons.  
  
Admitting fear was different from letting it win. He was loathe to admit it, but he'd been glad enough when the gurus had taken Magus and Lucca and left the three of them behind. It was still something of a surprise that Lucca had been chosen. Sure, she was magically stronger than most of them. Glenn was a natural choice to stay behind, given his respective history with Magus, but he was the hero of time, after all, and Marle was one of the greatest healers of the ages.  
  
Of course, who knew how much of that really mattered to the gurus? They had their own powers, however conservitavely they used them. The Rainbow hanging at his side was proof enough for that. Elemental power usage was a forbidden skill, something only the unassuming and outwardly feeble Melchior knew how to create. Then there was Epoch, made by Belthasar with a mixture of technology from the far past and of a future that no longer existed, as far as anyone could hope.  
  
He couldn't forget Gaspar's creation, but it was something Chrono didn't talk about, and he did his best to quell even the memory of it when it rose. There were too many questions still unanswered about what had really happened for him to be happy with any explanation the others could offer.  
  
Had he really died? Had they truthfully pulled him back just before his own destruction, or was his return a gift, given to him God and the heavens? Perhaps - just perhaps - it hadn't been intended as a gift at all. Chrono was content enough in life and in being among the living, but every sunrise still bore the remnants that golden glow, the last rising of his own soul before the others had watched his body shred away like a shadow. Whether or not that had any bearing in their current reality was beside the point, but the truth of the matter was that it was what was _supposed _to happen. Was his return also a fated event, or had they somehow cheated destiny by restoring him? Had it really been his time to die?  
  
A doll had told him something once, as very odd as that sounded even inside his own mind, and its words still troubled him a bit. Upon his arrival in the city of Enhasa, on the most southern edge of the Zeal kingdom, he remembered the furry white creature watching him with its bright, button-like eyes. A Zealian toy, no doubt, but sometimes he wondered if the Poyozo were alive. At times, they seemed to be. This particular doll had asked him happily in its innocent, child-like voice , if he believed in destiny. His answer then had been no, and the doll had told him he was right, but he still couldn't keep himself from wondering.  
  
_Of course, we're the masters of our own destinies. In fact, I believe there might be a door-way of destiny around here somewhere... _  
  
At the time, he thought the creature was some invention of Belthasar's, speaking of the Guru of Reason's secret chambers hidden in both Enhasa and Kajar. Now that he thought about it, the words cast a far more ominous tone, a powerful portent to the road his own choices would lead down. Hindsight was always clearer than foresight, true enough, but maybe the creature hadn't been telling the whole truth...  
  
Shaking his head slightly, Chrono focussed his eyes back on the continent up above him. He'd been staring at it, but his mind was so far away that it made little impression on him. The crags and turrets each inspired their own kind of awe independantly. Together, there was little to feel for them but fear. However it was that the continent of Zeal could come back into existence, turmoil was all that could result from it. As far as Chrono was concerned, very little good could come out of Zeal.  
  
Both Earthbound and Enlightened - for all they professed to be one people, the division still existed and only grew, now that the floating continent had appeared - watched the island in the sky with a deep kind of resignation. Chrono had been expected dread, but very little came. The Earthbound probably believed that their freedom had been too good to be true, and the Enlightened were probably waiting for their magic to return, and for them to be welcomed back among the clouds and stars, the gifted race granted the power of magic.  
  
Tensions were growing - Chrono could tell that with his eyes closed. Just by the way the Enlightened even now, in their brocaded robes and elaborate hats or head-cloths, avoided the fur-cloaked Earthbound in the same manner they might have before the fall of Zeal, the frays were beginning to show. Allies because of necessity, the bond that drew them together was gone now. Nothing was going to hold them for long, at this rate.  
  
Letting this thought complete the circle, he looked back up at the floating continent almost wistfully. Maybe being there, dealing with everything, could keep him from dwelling on the past. He walked away from the clear area of the commons at last, heading toward a small fire where one of the Enlightened men was turning a spit as if it were very far below him. The man gave Chrono a slight smile as he took over turning the spit. At least they weren't treating _him _ like an Earthbound. Yet. Apparently, when they were at their prime, the Enlightened possessed magic the likes of which even Magus couldn't match. Since the Mammon Machine was destroyed and the ability to channel the power of the elements directly all but forgotten, magic usage was lost to them now. But if the continent of Zeal had truly risen again...  
  
Chrono could see the same thoughts playing out behind the eyes of the man. Things were going to change - soon, more likely than not - and it was a matter of deep speculation as to what the nature of those changes would be. Nothing good was going to come of this, Chrono was certain.  
  
Accepting a bit of the roast meat the man offered him, he chewed thoughtfully, not really noticing its smoky flavor as he wandered beneath the cliffs of the commons, keeping an eye out for Glenn. Marle was nearby as well, and while he wasn't really avoiding her, he wasn't sure he really wanted to see her right now either. She probably had a lot on her mind as well - how could she not, with everything that had happened? - and he was sure she'd give him that... look of hers, the one that reeked of barely veiled sympathy. Much as he cared for her, he didn't think he could face that right now.  
  
Glenn, albiet in a different sense, wasn't a good deal better. The knight of Guardia had taken up bowing whenever Chrono approached, a habit that was both annoying and apparently unbreakable. Whether it had to do with the fact that Chrono was now - technically - the king of Guardia or because of the same events that drove Marle to be far more motherly than necessary, he didn't know. He also had no intention of asking.  
  
Picking up speed, he stopped dead when he heard a light rustle from above him, just out of sight over one of the snow-covered bluffs. It probably wasn't a monster. Very few of those survived the fall of Zeal, and few enough had ever been able to exist in the harshness of the overlands anyway. It might be one of Dalton's soldiers, but he doubted it. Most of them who made it out of the dying Blackbird alive lived in relative peace within the commons. Well, they lived in the same sort of peace that the Earthbound and the Enlightened lived, if that could really be called peace.  
  
Starining his ears to catch any other sound, he let his fingers curl around the hilt of the Rainbow. The breeze shifted his direction, aiding in carrying what little sound there was to him. A very soft, very innocent voice whispered.  
  
_...fascinating creatures... so many styles, so many colours of mood and ideal... how could anyone tire of watching such wonderous, beautiful little beings?'  
  
_Chrono shook his head, his long tresses waving in the same breeze as he did. Had he heard that right? A small laugh, tremulous and kind, rang out over the duration of a heartbeat, and then was gone. Only the voice lingered on, even fainter than before.  
  
_...have they realized it yet? Do we have reason to believe... that they ever will...? From all I've seen, I come to think that some of them, at least... may...'_  
  
Another trilling laugh, sweet as any child's, and then the feeling of eyes and presence was utterly gone. Whatever had happened, whatever strange diety or lurking creature that had been nearby, Chrono was now alone.  
  
x x x x x x x x x x x x  
  
Rebuild the world? Belthasar's gentle voice cut through the air. My dear girl, the world rebuilds itself in its own way... in its own time, and no matter what fool belief you cling to, none of us have ever wished to sway it to our own ends.  
  
You've ruined all things. Lorraine shot back blackly. Your fingers were in the thick of the destruction of Zeal, whatever lies you would sell, and you owe penance for that crime.  
  
Lavos decieved us all. No one could have known the extent of his power, or the end that queen Zeal would put it to. The aged man's face drew an expression of deep sorrow. In another life, another existance, we spent everything we had to assuage the damage that beast ravaged on the very fabric of time. No one had better cause to say that than Belthasar, and Lucca felt her own heart break at the memory of what eventually happened to him in the far future, even though that future no longer remained.  
  
And yet there is more than enough for the gurus to answer for, as well as those you championed. Lorraine's eyes caught Lucca's, holding them without effort. The beauty and perfection of the mountain that reminded the Earthbound of their worthlessness, the inevitability of their fate, was destroyed. The golden palace beneath the waves, the mighty aeroplane... all these symbols of power have been lost. I will restore them, in due course.  
  
The Mountain of Woe, the symbol of oppression and slavery of our age, will not always stay hidden beneath the waves. It will rise again, in time, Gaspar adjusted his robes, and you will have no part in that resurrection. The Mountain of Woe will not always serve an evil end - when it is revived, its purpose will be much greater.  
  
The mountain... wait a minute, it comes back? Lucca stared blankly at the guru. She's right. We destroyed that place. How can it return?  
  
Lorraine laughed coldly. Have you not realized it? The Mountain of Woe will someday become the peak of Death, crumbling and frozen in the far future. Though, after you ended the life of Lavos, that place has little use. She looked at Gaspar contemptuously. Another one of your interventions, no doubt.  
  
As you could never understand what I hoped to teach you about the Mountain of Woe, so was I certain that you would never one day learn the quality of a true guru. He shouldered his staff, a strange gesture for an old man, and looked at her with what could only be described as pity. A thought, a vision, a vain hope, each of these carry as much weight as any physical thing. Through the blurred window of hope and promise, Melchior planted four seeds into the slopes of the Mountain of Woe when he was imprisoned there. Thus, Life was given to into a peak where none existed before. Lorraine watched him with cold scorn, but she made no effort to interject.  
  
The seeds of life could not flourish without Reason, without thought or purpose to govern their formation, and thus Belthasar created his three guardians to protect the secrets of the mountain from those who might misuse them. Here he fixed the woman with a condescending smirk. For all your gains, Reason was always the one attribute that escaped you. For all your power, you never learned the true secret of our kind. You were never worthy to be one of us.  
  
So you say, old man, Lorraine scoffed, scornfully disregarding his new, youthful form. She curled her elegant hands into fists, gripping so tightly that a thin line of blood ran over her whitened knuckles, seeping from her palm and dripping onto the tiles below her. Her voice was quiet, but Lucca could feel her rage. But as you yourself admit, my power is great. You alone cannot hope to stop me.  
  
Gaspar shook his head, smiling sadly. Still, you fail to understand. It will be your undoing.  
  
That may be so. Lorraine's face was an almost sickly white. Indeed, it is quite likely that it is so, as you have no talent in deception. But your title is not what I have ever sought, Gaspar. Rather, it is your life that I will claim.  
  
It was Gaspar's turn to laugh, a long, low sound that built and echoed through the halls around them. The soldiers, large dark men in cold steel armor and branishing sparkling partisans or curved falchions, bristled at the sound. None of the gurus - not even Lorraine herself - seemed to notice. Her lips became even more set, the cruel malice blooming in her eyes strong enough to rend stone.  
  
Another woman who is nothing but a fool... Magus tested the edge of his blade in what was by now almost a customary action, but Lorraine ignored him, still watching Gaspar with violence.  
  
This place you've created... this fantasy... did you think it would really hold forever? Did you think you could simply undo what the ebb and flow of the universe has formed? Did you wish to untie the thgreads of the Creator? Gaspar's laugh continued. I find it hard to believe that even you could be so foolish, Lorraine.  
  
You question its power? Why, it was you, Gaspar, who gave me the means to build such a mighty thing. What could be greater than the power to restore something that has been lost to you? To defy the nature of Time?  
  
This time it was the old man's face that turned ashen, stamped with an expression of horrified disbelief. You created...a time egg?  
  
Lorraine laughed again with all the look of a woman savoring her victory, closing the distance between them. Janus unlocked a great many places in his pointless search for that dead brat Schala. But just the same, he gave me what I needed to begin my empire. You see, one of the places he found, here her voice became soft and deadly, was a small island, submerged in the northern ocean. It held little of interest to him, but to me, it was a gift I never dared hope for. He found the island where you dwelt, Gaspar of Time, before the destruction of the Ocean Palace. He found your lab, with all of your notes and devices, sealed within a cave in a forgotten mountain. It was there that I perfected my own Chrono Trigger, the Brilliant Oath. It contained the power I needed to open the long-sealed gates of time. Unlike your feeble egg, the Oath is not bound to anything so pathetic as a human life. I was able to use it to bring back the machine of Zeal.  
  
The Mammon Machine? But why? Lavos is destroyed. His power can't be used by anyone now.  
  
True, Lavos is dead. But then, he was never the giver of strength that Zeal believed him to be. Lavos was a destroyer, nothing more. Why would I risk crushing the very world I hope to own? No, the Mammon Machine has more uses than any of you previously imagined. The three of you knew where Lavos's power came from - what he did to take it from the earth. With certain modifications, the Mammon Machine began to do the same, working without Lavos as an intermediary.  
  
You feed off the energy of the souls of our world. Gaspar said quietly, the horror clearer in his voice than it had been before, though his expression was blank. Lorraine's face remained unchanged.  
  
  
  
Then why have you waited so long?  
  
You pushed the Eternity out of temporal phase, for which I owe you my thanks. The effects of the Oath and my first, ill-fated meeting with the prince caused it to transcend time, which I had not intended. Only the palace need transcend, for within it I will dwell with the device, gaining immortality at last. But the machine will not respond to me fully, as I had hoped. Give me Janus, and I will leave you in peace. He is the missing component, the tie between humanity and technology.  
  
Janus is the last who can communicate with the device. He can hear the black wind... Lucca heard herself say aloud, the answers becoming horrifically clear. You're going to use that power against mankind.  
  
Lorraine nodded with a perverse satisfaction. Perhaps you are smarter than I had initially assumed. Yes, Janus holds every key needed. Once the Mammon Machine responds to him, it will begin to yield a bounty of usable power, and I can allow the Eternity to transcend time correctly, as the Omen did. I will rise over all the kings of this world, never to suffer the limits of mortality, ever increasing my own strengths in magic and intellect. This Earth is mine now.  
  
Magus gave a smirk of his own, not bothering to raise his head at all. It wasn't lost on her that he'd said next to nothing during the entire exchange, and though there was danger all around her, she knew his docility was about to break, and wanted no part of it. Magus was one of the strongest magic users alive. She was no chopped liver herself, but being caught in a firefight between a woman who called herself the guru of Magic and a man who actually called forward Lavos by creating something far too similar to a timegate... that seemed far from safe.  
  
Ever the arrogance of the Enlightened grows. Your kind was the very reason that the use of magic was forbidden for so long. In fact, given the nature of time, it's quite likely that you yourself caused that chain of events. From 12,000 B.C. to 600 A.D., the human race will be kept from any knowledge of magic. The very element you hoped to control will be lost, as will any memory of you. Give in, Lorraine. Gaspar stood like a statue, his eyes bold and unafraid, flashing with the sort of authority that made Lucca's skin prickle. I have seen these events. Nothing you do will save you. Whatever goodness is left in you, recant now and let time be as it must.  
  
You will learn, Gaspar, that it is folly to underestimate me. I was nearly one of your kind, and I have changed a great deal since we parted ways. Will you not admit that you had no knowledge of my return? When Gaspar made no reply, she smiled in triumph. I shielded myself from you. Nothing you saw could presage my rise. It seems that you taught me a bit too well, if even your eyes could not find me.  
  
Don't overstate yourself, my dear. There is a great deal that takes place in the time stream. I have many other things to look for.  
  
Then perhaps new eyes would best serve that end, sharper eyes that have not been dulled by time or impaired by hardening wits.  
  
Magus shouldered his scythe again, gripping its long, wooden handle firmly with both hands. What will you do if I refuse? He smirked coldly at Lorraine. Did you forget what happened when Zeal tried to force Schala to use the device? I think you'll find that, as bold as Schala was, I'm stronger than you've been led to believe.  
  
Lorraine's smile showed clear rows of white teeth, framed by blood lips. Again, you cling to the pitiful notion that I will give you a choice. 


	11. Built anew

Ollen70: Preventer Squall, Locuster, and cleansocks, thank you so much for your reviews. I feel bad that it's taken me so long to get this chapter posted, but I hope everybody enjoys it.

Chapter Eleven - - Made anew

Lorraine rounded on Magus, glowering at him as if he were the only person present in the chamber. Lucca knew that she was on the very edges of Lorraine's awareness, and did nothing that might bring her attention.

You'll find that the life you would turn back to is gone, forgotten already. Would you claim any of the kingliness that is your right? The royal blood of Zeal flows in _your _veins. Why do you attempt to fight me, when I seek only to give back what was taken from you?

The chamber seemed so much smaller - or perhaps Magus merely felt larger, a shadow spreading like blighted earth across the tiles of bronze and gold. Lucca felt herself catch for a moment, awed by the sight of him. Nothing about him looked overtly different, save for the expression on his pale face. It was _sorrow_, if only for the barest of instants. And then he was Magus once more, scythe clenched as if it alone were his life.

I won't bring that machine back to life for you. It was destroyed and Zeal is dead. _This _is dead. None of this is real. I'm not going to become part of one of your illusions.

Lorraine laughed again. What is an illusion? What once was... can be again. Have I not said that I would make it so? I did not lie. Her pale fingers stretched skyward, and at once a blackness descended. What had once been brightness and sun was a mass of high, thick clouds billowing upward from the blanket below them, massive columns reaching toward the sun like malicious claws.

This is an age of ice, an age of sorrow. Only those with strength and will second to none can stand through such an age, an age to rival all those that came before it, in its ferocity. And only such as those are worthy to serve me.You'd plunge the world back into an ice age, just as some sick _test? _ Lorraine caught Lucca's face with her eyes, not releasing her grip.

She gestured at the windows behind them with a cavalier wave, My dear girl, I already _have._ In magic, as your dear friend Janus can most certainly attest, what has been done, has been done. There can be no going back. This world is mine, now!You're mad. Magus had drawn himself to his full height, now, his silvery mane trailing behind him like the train of an emperor. You'll never be able to control all of this.The Mammon machine has already begun to yield its harvest of power, and nothing will stand against Zeal, whether you assist me or no! With the power that I possess now, meager as it may be, I can begin to reconstruct all things that were lost during the fall - or create others, dreams utterly unfathomable, pinnacles of wonder and beauty that will endure until the ends of our very earth. And yet, you would stop me. You would oppress such things before they have a chance to bloom. Already a blood-freezing chill had begun to spread through the chamber. Focusing on the idea of a flame, Lucca was able to shut herself away from the cold. Magus looked as though he hadn't even noticed.

You've chosen power, at the cost of your own soul, Lorraine. If you give into these lusts, there can be no hope for you. It is with sorrow that I tell you that this inspires no surprise in me. Gaspar bowed his head. Melchior and Belthasar did the same, as if overcome by some great, insurmountable sorrow.

Lorraine turned to face him, stepping forward from the balcony where she stood. As you refuse to swear fealty to me, I have little use for you, guru of Time. Embrace your downfall!We won't abandon this world to you, Lorraine! Gaspar cried, his voice holding defiance and a terrible power that Lucca never would have guessed at. We won't turn aside, not after all the hardships we've endured!Then you'll die here, old one, so far from the places you loved. Kill them! she cried to her soldiers, all of whom sprang into action immediately at the galvanizing cry of their queen.

It was then that something very strange happened. All at once, Gaspar seemed to fall in on himself, to become very small and altogether removed from the reality of this upcoming situation, to appear totally feeble and almost... afraid?

So you have started this. In all my days I'd hoped such a situation would not come, that I might not have to wield my magic against another Enlightened or end another life. And yet, there really is no choice. Light bloomed around him very gently, reminding Lucca once again that the old man _was _ an Enlightened and must posses some sort of magic even if she'd only seen him wield it once before, abstractly. His murmured words had the air of recitation about them, intended only for the powers that be and not the ears of any in the room.

The struggles we face are everlasting, changing only in circumstance, never in preponderancy. And so I find it necessary to request such strength that, in nature, is... the glow grew brighter until the old man flung open his arms, his whole demeanor very different now, 

At that word, the glow all around him burst, spreading outward in a dazzling sphere, growing brighter and brighter until Lucca had no choice but to look away. When it cleared, Lucca could only gasp at what she saw. Instead of the weathered, weary old sage she'd known, a tall young man stood, his eyes of a bright, crystalline blue and his shoulder length hair a stunning blond. His face as well was very angular yet fair, set off by the lavenders and reds and deep, royal purples of his resplendent robes. Yet there was still something about him that carried the memory of Gaspar's wisdom, even in this younger, stronger form.

With that, the battle began. In her shock at Gaspar's remarkable transformation, Lucca hadn't noticed that the effects of his spell weren't confined to his person - Melchior was at his side in the heavy armor befitting a warrior, his hair very black and as long and striking as Gaspar's. He hefted a broad sword befitting a sword master and swung it with according skill. Beside him, the guru of reason engaged two of Lorraine's men expertly with his staff, his eyes hazel now instead of the wept-away gray Lucca remembered from the one time, long ago in a crumbling corner of the future, when she'd met Belthasar in his real form. His hair was a more flaxen shade of blonde, his face not quite so sharp as those of his companions.

Holy Cross! It was Melchior that shouted it, holding his sword high over his head and swinging so quickly that the eye couldn't follow. The plunging blur of the sword gave way to a large cross, blazing over the tiles of the floor in either fog or silver flame, driving away the opponents nearby.

Gaspar with spear, Melchior with sword, and Belthasar with staff, in their newer forms, had very little trouble holding Lorraine's men at bay. The so-called guru of magic herself still stood at a distance, hands on hips, watching the entire undertaking with a great amount of disdain. Floundering under the growing rage she felt toward the woman, Lucca freed her gun from it's holster and took careful aim.

I would think very carefully of your actions, girl, Lorraine said, eyes never leaving the fray. You and I will complete our business when the time comes; that time is not now, and you will not interfere if you value your life. Your weapon could not answer me, but my magic will finish you if I wish to unleash it.This is not a matter for you to involve yourself in just now, my child. Belthasar's voice was soft and fluid as he turned toward her, Gaspar and Melchior covering his unprotected back. It was not as cracked by severe age as it had been on their last encounter, nor altered by the Nu that had inherited his memories. Though he didn't come right out and say it, his tone spoke volumes. The three of them were masters of lore and magic, using it throughout their respectably long lifetimes. She herself had come by the skill not more that three years ago - she would be in their way if she tried to fight. They would have to worry about not hurting her, and that would put them all in considerably more danger.

Before her, Magus pulled at his gloves with one hand while watching the explosion around him with a predictably impassive expression. The grip he kept on his scythe-handle seemed a bit tight, though. As soon as any soldier ventured near him, the long blade shuddered and twisted toward them like an angry adder, seeking flesh. In spite of this, his attention was still tied to Lorraine, who looked back at him with a small smirk.

You know full well, young prince, that such a sentiment goes doubly for you. My magic and yours stems from much the same source, fell as it may be for you to admit it. She gave a small laugh at the look that cracked through Magus's outward composure. It wasn't there for more than a moment, not long enough for Lucca to gain anything from it, but it frightened her. Attack me, and we might both be destroyed.What makes you think I wouldn't take that risk?

The laugh was notably louder. Because there remains the chance that I might survive - that, I'm certain, is something you will not allow.You'll probably destroy the world anyway. Do you think we were ever supposed to discover how to drain the power of Lavos? How to meddle with the flow of Time? Zeal got what it deserved. A slender finger traced the edge of his scythe again, leaving another line of blood, but Lucca hardly noticed. Lorraine was breathing deeply, slowly, her face dark enough to put shame to a starless night.

You are nothing, without me! I will make you glorious! Will you let the jaws of this age consume you, when I could grant you warmth and light?I was born into the darkness. Do you think I would fear ice or cold, or sorrow or death? I _am _death, the scourge of the middle world. In all the world, _I _am the greatest mage that has ever lived, and I'm going to kill you. He said it with no passion, no vehemence. It was a declaration of fact, as pallid and cold as its speaker.

The soldiers around the gurus were fallen or driven back, and they righted themselves, holding their stances as they turned to face Lorraine.

Scorn me, if you think it wise. Soon, you will find much to regret. We have but begun! Raising both hands high into the air, she cried out wordlessly, and the darkness seemed to fold about her. Magus darted into it, his scythe flashing brightly. When the shadow cleared, both were gone.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

Only moments before, Marle had been standing alone under the clear sky, looking up at a morning sun and a heaven almost devoid of clouds. There was no natural reason why it should have changed so quickly. At once she'd gone to Crono, relieved to find that Glenn was already with him.

The darkness of the sky, more than the cold, gave her reason to shudder. People in this era were born never knowing the natural warmth of the sun or the softness of the spring. Marle herself had always loved the winter and the snow, but here it was a crueler master. Lavos had brought this upon the Earth when he descended, and his power burned it from the sky when he destroyed the kingdom of Zeal. Whatever was causing the storms to grow again was not from him, and she found that thought far from comforting. 

Crono stood by her side, but it was clear that he was very far away. Glenn was at her right, his head downcast and his face all but lost under his waves of long hair. Despair flowed along the icy breeze, stronger than the saltiness fed to it by the ocean. They had all come from out of the Earthbound village to better watch the dying of the day, as the clouds that had once so effectively imprisoned the world began to thrive again.

Crono's eyes were locked on the sky. He stared upward, barely so much as blinking, eyes so full of thought that Marle felt lost beside him. She knew his mind, though. If this was really happening, then what went wrong? Were Lucca, Magus and the gurus alright? More importantly, were they even still alive? Who was this person - or creature? - with enough power to rival that of Lavos himself?

We have to do something. Her own voice surprised her. She'd lost track of how long they had been standing here, soundlessly, and the rasping timbers of it made her flinch.

They have the Epoch. What _can _we do? Crono's voice, by contrast, was without depth. Unless they come back down for us, we're about as powerless as the Earthbound.Perhaps that doth be true, young master. Glenn sank to an almost-crouch while he glared skyward. If only the bridges in the sky hath not been sundered. Marle started. What did you say?He's talking about the skyways, Crono told her, just as flatly.

No, no, I know that. It's just that... it's just that it sort of gives me an idea.

Crono gave her an odd look, but the approval in Glenn's deep eyes implied that he already knew what she was going to say.

The skyways were made by the Enlightened, after all. If they could do it... she let that matter of speculation hang. It was a definite possibility, as all three of them knew, but that sort of magic was not anything like what they themselves practiced. Marle had considered asking one of the Enlightened about the specifics of that old technology, only barely stopping herself. The Enlightened, according to past experience, weren't all that forthcoming in the matters of magic, nor did it seem wise to bring up the fact that their power was beginning to return.

Crono had mentioned more than once how much that bothered him. She didn't say more than a few words on it when he brought it up, more because she didn't want to make him worry than because it didn't upset her, as well. After all, the Enlightened had abandoned the power of the elements when Lavos was discovered and the Mammon machine built. Their power came from it, directly. If they could use magic again...

We _are _Enlightened, lad. This doth be within our power, if it lies before anyone at all.

Marle followed the knight reluctantly as they drew away from the edges of the commons and the huts clustered there. Never before had she thought of herself as Enlightened,' though it was obvious that they were, by now, among the most formidable magic-users the world had ever known. The Enlightened of Kajar had scorned them, calling their power weak and malformed, but history had disproven that claim. Kajar was a sunken ruin, but _they _ still lived. _They _had obliterated the very source of the Enlightened magic, and yet still held onto their own, but this was fast becoming a whole new battle.

Someone with enough magic to resurrect a lost part of Time was not someone to trifle with, and she hoped desperately that Lucca had realized that. If not she, then certainly the gurus would have stopped any catastrophes that could have taken place. This storm must simply be a consequence of that, or maybe some complete coincidence.

An upward glance showed her with glaring intensity how foolish such thoughts were. This was a matter that they could not stay idle in. Crono was the Hero of Time, and she was his closest ally.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

Since the fall of Zeal, so far in the Dark Ages that few from the present even knew of its existence, nothing had been built using magic. Aside from the mystics, who used it as a destructive force akin to their own teeth and claws, Magic was a thing of sorcerers and wizards and the edges of imagination. It wasn't real, as far as the present was concerned.

Magic didn't _create. _It may restore, perhaps rebuild what was already there, but it did not birth new ideas. Magic was the force by which civilizations fell - in that, Crono had personal experience. The whirring of the Mammon Machine, even over the screams of Lavos, would be burned into his memory until the day he died.

Now, traveling with lumbering, awkward steps across the snow fields, he gazed upward at the thickening sky. They were going to make a skygate. The three of them - a redeemed knight, a warded princess, and himself, who had been little more than an awkward teenager a mere two years ago. His leather boots sank low into the snow, allowing the flowing, white powder to slip in over their cuffs. He barely noticed. 

It wasn't that Crono disagreed with the idea. Their friends obviously needed them, but there was still something more than ominous that hung in the back of his mind. There was a threat here, and it was growing greater all the time. _It almost reminds me of...' _he wouldn't allow himself to think of that. This was the here and now, and they had a job to do. If something horrible was happening on that damned island, then they owed their help to their friends.

When the birches thinned and the fields were level, they paused. Marle adjusted the strap of the Valkeyrie absently, her cold-bleached fingers lingering on the silver links of the chain that kept it on her shoulder. She was worried, clearly enough. Marle was never one to hide her emotions, for all he'd been told of royalty and their ability to lie to their mothers about their own age. Marle was no common princess, after all. They owed each-other so much more than love. If she ever thought about that obligation, she never mentioned it. It was a vain hope, to think that it hadn't occurred to her, but he wished for it anyway.

They stood apart from each-other, leaving a bare patch of ground between them. Since none of them had even considered doing such a thing, none took charge at once. Crono wasn't about to say a word - Glenn and Marle knew the art of healing to a much greater level than he. It would be that type of magic that would guide their creation, not his leaping, haphazard form of desolation.

Suggesting that they open their minds, as they had at Gaspar and Melchior's urging, Glenn spread his arms wide and closed his eyes. When Crono could feel the waves of magic rising off of the two of them, like heat from an open flame, he let his own eyes drift closed.

In his mind, Crono watched the frost-like pattern start to develop. It spread slowly into the glowing outline of a snowflake, confined within a circle of magic, growing more and more intricate as they fed it their strength. Opening his eyes, he watched their creation pulse gently with blue-white light.

It flickered like the morning, dawning over this world of bleakness. At once, he was reminded of the intricate workmanship of the windows of the cathedral in the middle-ages, where he first met Glenn. It seemed so long ago, by now, but the beauty was still fresh in his mind, more real than any of the glamour of Zeal ever could have been.

This, right now, was perfection. This was excellence and beauty and wonder in its truest, purest form. How he could have lived his life without this moment, he didn't know. This union of magic was matutinal and glorious. His own power was meant mainly for destruction. Until now, he had never used it to build.

The circle of light was now large enough to hold the three of them, and it finally ceased growing. Its pulsing glow was oddly familiar, and he stared at it for quite some time, before realizing that the pulse was in time with his own heart. Marle glanced at him, almost shyly, before pulling the Valkeyie off of her shoulder and tightening its already-taut string. Glenn followed suit, the sacred sword Masamune rasping into his grip. Crono blinked, then brought the Rainbow out to join them.

No matter who be our foe, the Heavens need meet us, and grant us protection. The chivalrous knight uttered the words with the grace of a priest, his eyes closed in reflection. In an instant, he stepped into the brilliant glow. Without hesitation, Crono did the same.

Ollen70: Writer's block has been a very cruel thing to me, these past few months. This chapter feels a little off' to me. I'm trying to sink into a refined style, but this chapter was pretty heavily driven by dialogue, which is odd for me.

If there are any of you left who haven't totally given up on me by now, I very much appreciate feedback of any kind. I'd also like to say thank-you,' from the bottom of my heart, to all of the people who've taken time to review the previous chapters.


	12. Never quite prepared

Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Trigger, and this was not written with the intention of infringing on anyone's existing rights. I'm not making any money - this is just for fun.

Never quite prepared

x x x x x x x x x x x x

"And lonely as it is that loneliness  
Will be more lonely ere it will be less--  
A blanker whiteness of benighted snow  
With no expression, nothing to express.

They cannot scare me with their empty spaces  
Between stars--on stars where no human race is.  
I have it in me so much nearer home  
To scare myself with my own desert places..."  
Frost

x x x x x x x x x x x x

Whatever had happened in the main hall of the fortress, Lucca couldn't say. Once the last of the guards had been dispatched, she and the gurus moved quickly, looking for some trace of the self-named guru Lorraine and for Magus. Though much of the lay-out of the palace was almost identical to what she remembered from the kingdom of Zeal, this place was many times more vast, a labyrinth filled with ornate tapestries and beautifully worked sculptures, wide windows and gilded bookcases twice her height.

Gaspar walked along beside her, his youthful form barely touching the tiles of the floor as he glided softly through the corridors. For all his aura of confidence, she sensed a certain air of concern in him, and it worried her. If the guru of Time, with the power to turn back the days of his own life, was concerned, she felt she must be very definitely under-analyzing the situation.

The man's staidness was aggravating, though Lucca, on top of everything else, was stunned that she was even able to feel annoyance, after all that had taken place. "Gaspar, who was she?" She asked suddenly, forcing the question out in one breath. If she bothered to take the time to think everything through, she was certain she wouldn't learn half of what she sought.

"Precisely who she said she was." Gaspar's strides didn't shorten. "Lorraine was a great many things - selfish, cruel, relentless - but honesty is her favorite weapon, once she's twisted the truth to her liking."

"Then.. she really was your student?"

Gaspar's lips tightened into a white line, but otherwise his expression remained otherwise neutral. "Lorraine has never been anything other than a traitor. There are more ways to lie than simply with words, and Lorraine knows them well. Though she professed pure intentions once, it was not long before her ambitions became known, and she was cast out."

"How..." here Lucca paused, not certain how to ask what was on her mind. Or rather, she knew what she wanted to ask - she merely feared how it would be received. Taking a deep breath, she began again. "You know so much about time, Gaspar. From what I've been able to tell, you know what's going to happen."

"Only brief glimpses. Nothing more certain than that."

"You knew enough to make the Chrono Trigger."

Gaspar's face went utterly flat, though he didn't shift his glance to her. The purple hat he wore and the swinging locks of dawn golden hair kept his eyes from reaching hers. "That was another matter entirely, my dear." His tone broked no argument.

"But, if you had suspicions, even glimpses, why did you choose Lorraine to be your student? You must have known what would happen, or at least assume..." Lucca was aware that she was pushing too far, working against a man that she no longer had reason to be completely certain of. She didn't expect him to stop short, all at once freezing her with a look.

"You've come remarkably far in your understanding of time, child, but be careful how much you question. Sometimes, despite everything we might hope, there are choices that still have to be made. Let us leave it at that."

He didn't say anything more. Lucca, once again, hadn't been expecting anything so blunt. Maybe the transformation of age truly had changed the guru, leaving behind the long-winded, fogged man she'd known in the End of Time. Or maybe... maybe she hadn't known him all that well, after all. Falling a pace behind him, she allowed herself a sidelong gaze. The coldness in the corridor felt very piercing.

x x x x x x x x x x x x 

Ascending their column of light from the frozen surface of the earth was nothing like using the old skyways and land bridges of Zeal. For a moment everything just hung in the air, as if the three of them had been somehow sealed in a column of ice. Marle's magic exerting the greatest influence, Crono thought wryly. Even the thought was fragmented and ugly, barely forming entirely before it was almost gone. Since her magical skill was the strongest of the three of them, it made sense that her power might overwhelm the other two, especially given the natural tendency of ice to influence water. It might have been wise to consider that, before they'd started the spell.

He had barely enough time to register that he was thinking at all when the entire world split open. Lines like the branches of a blazing tree streaked savagely around them, cracking angrily as they went. All at once agony screamed through his body and it took everything he had not to lash out with his mind, but as fast as the pain appeared, it was completely gone.

When his eyes could see again, all that was before them was a thick blanket of grey-black, and that wasn't right. They were clouds, he soon realized, which also felt wrong, since the island should have been above the clouds as Zeal was. Instead it was submerged into the valleys between them now, occasionally drifting into a crevasse where the sun shone, however briefly and impotently. The green grass below him was hard, touched already by heavy frost. Whatever happened, the world was growing colder once again, and he didn't know why.

"So what's the next step?" Marle croaked out, her hair disheveled and one strap of her white garment falling over her shoulder. Crono adjusted his own tunic self-consciously, cold for Marle. It made sense that the cold no longer troubled her, ever since Spekkio gave her power over ice, but it still sometimes bothered him when he thought about it.

His head still ached, but it came in bursts and most of them were easy to ignore. With a careless smile that was truly completely forced, he stood up, brushing grass from his trousers, and helped the other two to their feet as well. Of the three of them, Glenn was the worse for wear, standing very uneasily and shifting from foot to foot even as he did, one arm wrapped possessively around Crono's shoulders, claiming the younger man's equilibrium as his own.

"If I had to choose, I'd say they're probably over there..." he gestured toward the largest citadel, vaguely reminiscent of Zeal Palace in the time before the fall. The entire island, though it was similar, was so much more crowded than Zeal, with turrets and fortresses many times more grand, and some that were all too similar to the black omen. All jet-colored metal and jagged angles, some appeared to be made of nothing but night, visible only because of the many lights that glowed from within them, like some awful parody of a starry sky.

"True enough, lad. I canst help but wonder what we may find there, if we venture in..."

"Something horrible," Marle said flatly, "of course. We never go anywhere happy. It's gonna be something deadly and awful, probably made out of gold teeth like those stupid golem-things of Dalton's."

Crono couldn't help but laugh, even though it was true. The real terror in Zeal came from the ugly things, hidden carefully under layers of fantastic beauty.

"We better get going, one way or another." He was already freezing - colder now than he had been in the earthbound commons. The buildings, though foreboding, at least looked warm.

No one complained. Or if they did, Crono shut them out neatly enough, helping Glenn along behind him. Marle trailed at his elbow, checking the string of the Valkeyrie with agile fingers. He was glad of that. Marle, for the appearance she cut, could be about as fierce as Ayla when she put her mind to it, and now was clearly one of those times. part of her bottom lip was locked between her teeth, clenched so firmly the blood was gone, the skin a clear, clean white.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Stay together. I don't like this..." Of course, that was implied. The lines of his back were so tight they were almost jagged angles. Marle, oddly enough, felt no fear, for the first time since their arrival. It was a very premature sense of peace, of course, given how little they knew about where they were, but she kept it in her, a faint ray of light as brittle as a hooded lantern.

The path upward was barred by a thicket of birches, much like those on the earth below, except that they grew more densely together, full shields of white bark curling outward around those who passed through.

Crono pulled to the left, but something caught Marle's eye, and she froze in her tracks. No more than ten steps into the copse, she was already surrounded, in an area she might have sworn no one else could enter. The trees closed off behind her, sheltering her, and the way back was somehow lost in the tangle, completely obscured to her eyes. As she turned back, another figure stepped into the clearing, and Marle blew her breath out in relief, expecting Crono or Glenn.

Instead, it was the same woman, the odd one she'd met in the commons for only a moment, and who had disappeared without explanation - a woman who obviously couldn't have been completely mortal. Or one who was nearly identical, and Marle all but goggled at her, stumbling backward and nearly tripping over an upraised tree-root.

The woman laughed, the sound as whole and kind as she remembered. Though she didn't trust her, Marle had trouble truly believing this woman meant her harm, especially when thin, crystal-fragile fingers closed around her wrist, steadying her with a gesture that wasn't necessary - Marle had already regained her balance.

"I see we find our way to one another again, my dear. Goodness me, it's been awhile since I've met someone like you, someone who can draw me to them more than once. I suppose I shouldn't have come, really, but... but" here she leaned forward, her voice a loud whisper, "you won't tell anyone, will you?" Marle only stared, but the woman righted herself. "No, no, of course you won't."

"Who are you? What's going on here?"

"I might well ask you the same question, dear girl." At this the woman strode toward the nearest tree, caressing the trunk with the same careful hand as before. "I suppose, after that impressive display on the snow fields, you'll be well on your way to finding that out on your own. I've been so preoccupied that I've quite forgotten myself," she trilled another high laugh, suddenly reminding Marle very much of the young nun who had been one of her instructors in the castle back home. "I suppose it can't be helped now, but I'll keep a closer eye on other matters in the future."

"Do I know you?" Yes, she recognized her from the commons, recently and once more than two years ago, but the question held deeper implications, and the woman did not miss them.

"I held you in my hand for awhile, as I did for the other. Out of time, you were safe with me. The One who ordains the flow of time restored you, when He saw fit, just as he did for the hero of time, the young man you travel with." The woman was utterly unconcerned with the weapon Marle now halfheartedly aimed in her direction. None of the eeriness had abated, however. This woman couldn't have come by the skygate, since she was ahead of them, and seemed for all the world as if she'd never been outside of this clearing, as serene as the ocean.

"But I... I was... dead... wasn't I?" The swirling void, the almost-nothingness that pulled her in after Leene's disappearance had been like purgatory, from the cold moments of it that she could recall. Crono never mentioned a place like that, though he never really spoke of any of his memories, after his "death" in the Ocean Palace, if they were even reliable.

"Who are you?" she bit out, colder than she'd intended. One of the creator of this place's machinations, more likely than not. How else would she have learned of Crono's resurrection from Death Peak? None of the Earthbound knew for certain that Crono was the person Marle sought, after the fall of the Ocean palace. Crono had been tacit on the subject, and Marle and the others respected that. Magus most certainly wouldn't have told anyone. No matter how long he'd remained in the Dark Ages, the mage's opinion of the former Enlightened was very obviously unchanged.

"My dear, I would tell you if I could. It isn't solely my own will that keeps me from sharing it with you. There are simply... certain things... that your kind is not yet ready to understand." The woman tugged on one brightly patterned sleeve, her smile lop-sided and bright. "I will tell you this, though. Never fear that what you've experienced has been by chance. For every memory you hold, a purpose lives with it. This thing, called Life by your kind... it's a thing of infinite possibility."

"I don't think I know what you mean."

"You're a bright girl, whether you show it or not. It's a fair assumption that, someday, you will." With a flash and a brilliant laugh, she was gone. Marle trembled again, as she had the first time, and a creeping chill that she so rarely felt skittered away across her back.

"Marle? Did you even hear me...?" Crono's arrival was announced by snapping tree branches as he pushed his way into the clearing. His brow was imposingly low. "Did 'splitting up is a bad idea' sound unclear, for some reason?"

"No... no, I'm sorry. Come on." Ignoring his obvious surprise at her lack of both explanation and argument, she wrapped fingers around his wrist lightly, pulling him in her wake. Glenn stood not far from them, on guard on the path that led to the main citadel.

"'Tis time," was all the knight said at their approach, bounding off again across the quickly freezing stones of the path. Marle fell into step with Crono, watching his feet carefully to be certain she could match his stride. It was happy coincidence that it kept her almost completely from thinking about what had just taken place.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

"Where are Belthasar and Melchior?"

"Searching in their own way." Gaspar's reply was clipped and cold, and Lucca was glad he kept his eyes forward. She should have noticed that the other gurus were gone long before this, but her attention had been focused on the winding passages of the fortress as Gaspar led her farther and father upward. 

"They have other matters to see to, as I can well understand."

Or rather, this was Gaspar's affair, and the other two saw that. Lucca drew herself up. Well, it was _her _affair too. Time, in any form, had become her ward since before the fall of Lavos, and she was she the others felt the same way.

"You're still responsible for her... in your own mind..." She said it very softly, acutely aware how thin the ice she stood on actually was. He didn't even slow, but she flinched anyway, expecting a deluge.

"Quite right. And in more than my own mind, my dear. I thought she'd gone on to Providence a very long time ago, and it's with no small regret that I find myself wrong. Lorraine was never a woman to be taken too lightly."

"Then... why...?" At this, the break finally did come, much more quickly than she would have judged. His eyes were flat, cold to their very core.

"Because all men make mistakes!" He moved on again. She didn't - frozen in the corridor, she only stared straight ahead, wondering what exactly she'd struck on. When she followed again, he was lingering in an alcove ahead, studiously not facing her. His young face now hung under a veil of spun gold, hiding everything but an arched face, pallid as alabaster. His age was heavier now than it had ever been before, when he wore the face of a kind, tired octogenarian.

"There is no time for this. We _must _move on, my dearYou can think of me what you like, but do it later."

And that was the core of the problem, what kept her in revolt even though she did as he bade her, meekly falling in step once more. She didn't _know _what to think, other than to be certain that there was a great deal more here that he wasn't telling her. Lorraine was a beautiful, tempting woman. Perhaps that...

She shook her head. Even if it were the case, it did no good to muse. If she was meant to figure it out, she would. If Gaspar wanted her to know, and he clearly didn't, he would have told her. All she could do was follow for now, and that was a reality she very much disliked admitting.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

There was neither night nor day outside the hall where Magus stood, chained twice about his waist and both wrists with thick iron links. He had awakened that way some hours ago, staring out into the stationary blackness of cloud, watching while veils of snow fell. He was chained to a pedestal many times taller than he, suspending a massive, shadowy creation that could only be one thing. Without seeing it, he could tell by the groaning, shrieking wail it made that it was indeed the Mammon machine, brought back from the dead but not entirely.

Lorraine stood some distance away, surveying him carefully as she'd done often since his awakening, but still remaining mostly silent. His attempts to goad her yielded nothing, so he was content to wait and ignore her. From the little memories he kept of her, patience was not among them. In time, she would make her move, and he would kill her and stop whatever madness she hoped to cause.

"I find it a great surprise that you resist me so."

"You shouldn't." He fought the urge to smirk, despite the renewed hammering in his head. All things came to those who waited...

"Didn't time take from you what you loved most?" Fitting. She _would _play her most powerful card first. Even so, Magus didn't waver.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You are very poor at masking what you feel, O prophet. For how many years have you now searched for your sister, finding less with each passing day?" Ever closer she came, and the throb spread into his teeth again, reminiscent of their first cursed meeting. He didn't turn to face her. "Surely Schala's lot was not greater than any other. Why, then, did Gaspar offer no Chrono Trigger to _you? _Are you not more worthy than he? Is not _Schala _worthy of that gift?"

She floated close, so very close, her breath whispering over the bare flesh of his shoulders. Involuntarily, he shuddered, and then swore he would show her nothing else, no other part of himself. "_I _would not keep from you what you seek. _I _could make a Trigger, if you wish, once the old man is dead and the flow of time rewoven.

"And what do you benefit from this? Altruism doesn't suit you, Lorraine." 

Her haughty exterior slammed back into place, implacably wall-like. "I am not incapable of forcing you to do as I ask. You know of the magic born of necessity and desperation. Your own power is rash, as you are rash, exacting a toll with every cast. My own skill is more... restrained. Before disowning me, the old fool planted the seeds of magical working... the ability to manipulate the strings of magic, to tie and untie as I see fit.

Magus thought at once of the dark halls in Ozzie's fortress, which would later become his own castle. At first he had been a prisoner, an oddity collected as a way to ensure Ozzie's dominance over the mystics. A human who could use magic, something the rest of mankind had been denied.

He performed like a trained lion, lashing out with his power whenever Ozzie cracked the whip, mastering ever greater quantities of black magic until he surpassed the would-be mystic despot himself. Janus had not been able to master the magic of the elements, as could the other Enlightened. Magus the sorcerer was another matter, never mind that the magic he cast came at a high price. Each spell felt ripped from his body, a price paid in his own blood until his very form began to change, losing most semblance of humanity altogether.

An easy price to pay, the physical change. Much as he grew to hate life in the fist of the mystics, life among the humans of that time was even more absurd - to think that the _Earthbound _had fully outlasted the Enlightened, until magic was a parlor trick, something done with cards and bits of string and coins, not the great driving force it once was.

He stifled a mirthless chuckle, looking back on the folly of his youth. As if it mattered what one was raised as. Anyone with great force of will could overcome the past. Enlightened or Earthbound, people were people, and the foolish were ever content to remain that way. He had no loyalty to anyone - certainly not the kingdom of Zeal, the place that consumed his mother and led to the rise of Lavos. The place that attempted to corrupt and destroy his sister. The place that condemned him, for his own lack of magic...

Magus had given up straining against the bonds. Somehow his own power held him, fed back through whatever machination Lorraine had devised, so that the machine, as it amplified its own power, used any struggle to strengthen itself. He waited, hoping a passive exterior might keep Lorraine from noticing just how much of his magic still remained. It could be possible that, if he regained enough before she tried to force him to summon the black wind, his magic might overcome it completely. It might also be possible that the recoil would kill him, but he had faced death more than once in the past. It certainly had no power over him now.

Voices from outside the hall brought Lorraine's attention, and he turned his head toward the growing tumult as well. In the shade of the archway, Lorraine's two guards lunged forward. One froze in place, his body below the waist encased in solid ice, while the other stumbled back. Of his own sword there was only the shattered hilt, and the conspicuous girth of another blade that pierced all the way through his armor. Even without the now-screaming ache in his head, he would have known it as the Masamune.

Its wielder stepped through the arch, followed closely by Marle and Crono, flaming red hair dwarfing anything that might still have been happening in the corridor behind them. The once-amphibious knight looked down at the fallen guard, still struggling weakly despite the red pool he lay in. Watching Glenn closely, Magus felt the gentle flutter of a cure spell, sealing the bulk of the man's wound, just before the hilt of the great sword smote his helm, rendering him limp across the golden tiles.

"Rather a waste of your time, good sir knight," Lorraine crooned. "Once he rises again, he will kill you. A pity that you waste your skill on him for nothing."

"Chivalry never be without purpose, milady. But who art thou? What hast thou..." Glenn's voice broke when he noticed Magus, chained ceremonially at the base of the massive jet pillar. Looking upward, the knight's face darkened in ever greater horror. "What devilry is this...? Who art thou?"

"Stay away," Magus barked, bringing the focus of all four of them to him. "She isn't what she seems. This is the woman that -"

"I might well be given the opportunity to extend welcome of my own accord, for surely you would not do worthy guests proper service, my boy." Lorraine sounded stretched, which hardly upset him. She turned back to the others, missing his glare. If only she were a little closer...

x x x

At the sight of the revived Mammon machine, Marle stopped in horror. The device was meant to be powered from the great strength of Lavos, born from the energy of the very earth itself, and those who lived on it. Lucca could give a more correct description, she was sure, but it was enough to know that, without Lavos, the machine was no less dangerous. Whatever power it took came at a tremendous cost, and she could almost feel the pain that poured outward across the tiles, an oily cloud over a sea of gold.

"Crono, what do we -" Marle caught Crono's arm, the Valkeyrie held firmly in her other hand and not wavering by an inch from Lorraine's chest. The would-be queen's eyes widened, her body rising visibly, though she ignored the weapon entirely. Crono turned toward her, his blade not yet fully lowered, confusion on the features Marle knew so well.

"And so it is Crono, the hero favored by the fabric of time itself, who finds his way to me, and I wouldn't deny that I greatly desired this. Long have I waited to try my power against yours." At his look of surprise, she smiled almost sweetly. "Have you not yet guessed, child? You and I are so much alike... forced to accept roles we did not choose, to be used by time as _it _sees fit." Crueler curves returned to the smile. "Have you not wondered about your fate? If you perish here today, would time spare you again, or is your life of no further use? Did you wish to be little more than a tool?"

Crono didn't answer. His body tensed like a drawn bow, ready at any moment to break under the strain. Marle feared for him. These were the questions she knew he had asked of himself almost daily since the incident in the Ocean Palace, even if he never spoke openly about it. She couldn't blame him. Her own few moments of timelessness, after her presence in the past had altered history, would be forever imprinted in her memory. Coupled with the appearance of that strange woman in the forest...

"You won't live forever, dear child. Did they ever tell you? Mortality is still the curse of time, never to be given when you might wish it, but withheld, used against you like a sword." Crono stood still, but Marle didn't know how much he heard. If it were possible, she would deafen her to the woman completely. If Magus had so much reason to hate her, and if she were the one who rebuilt the horrible machine, then surely anything she said must be a lie.,

"You were free of it once, through the choice of another - not your own. You are chained, and time alone holds the key. Why do you bow to it? Why do you let it use you, nothing more than a puppet, never more than an object to be cast aside when its purposes are fulfilled?"

"I am myself..." he muttered, painfully absent. "I did what I did because... because I..."

"Were you expecting reward?" The softness of her inspired true hatred in Marle. "No, child. Youth will leave you, your body will betray you, until you are little more than dust, swept away by a cruel master and kept even from the memory of men, when enough years have gone by. Everything you love will be taken away by the thing you fought for. Eventually this world will end. Not even you can stop that."

Marle was an intruder, overhearing words not meant for her, which was obvious - she could see through this woman's ploy, whoever she might be. Some displaced Enlightened, stumbling over magic strong enough to really make a mess of time, if the warp had been any indication. There was something in her, something different, that kept her from being merely a woman. Something bigger, though Marle couldn't say what it was. It didn't matter. Big enemies fell harder and faster than small ones.

Behind her came a muffled shout, and she was nearly bowled over by a short, brown clad figure, hat skewing spectacles as she braced herself against Marle's back. Marle almost fired, nerves fraught already.

"Lucca?"

Lucca blinked several times, then moved her glasses so she could rub at her eyes.

"What...? How did you get here...?"

"Long story, believe me. Where are the gurus?"

The woman was still speaking in the distance, having drawn off toward where Magus was chained, some sort of terrible sacrifice to the beast of a machine that dominated the room's center. Marle couldn't put meaning into the words, instead focusing on the purple-clad figure that strode through the arch-way. Lucca half-turned.

"Gaspar's with me. I don't know where the other two are."

"Gaspar?" This man was young, full of face and eye, his hair a vibrant blond. Had Lucca lost her mind?

"Like you said, we've got a lot to talk about later. Now, where's Lorraine...?" She trailed off, replacing her glasses and noticing, from the look of absolute horror on her face, the goings-on in the room.

"What the hell...? She actually did it...?"

Lorraine's voice broke back through then, still speaking only to Crono. "Your lives are over! If I kill you, it will be forever. Nothing will save you. Isn't your dear lover worth more than that? The lives of the ones you treasure? Why defy time, when I could offer you so much more...?"

An old, dry memory scraped through Marle's mind. '_Why don't you do as Schala says, and run away yelping in terror? Isn't your life precious to you?'_

"My God..." If a shot had been clear, if she hadn't been so close to Magus and the machine, Marle would have killed the woman herself, then and there.

"I fail to see what time found so special... so... necessary. A boy, nothing more. Not enough to threaten me."

"This 'boy' killed the last tyrant of Zeal. He's more of a threat than you could know..." Magus strained against the invisible bonds that held him, leering at the woman who stood below him. "Do you think he'll flinch away from doing so a second time?"

"Your mother..." Lorraine placed a considering finger alongside her lips. "Then you must share an equal hatred for him, if this is the one who cost your mother her life and your kingdom its glory."

At this, Magus threw back his head and laughed - a terrible, raw sound, and Marle sunk down, looking for a way to escape it. "My mother... was a puppet, and a fool. _She _destroyed Zeal, took Schala, _ruined my life..._ and you, you're trying to become her, to take over where she failed, but turn your back on me, even for one second, Lorraine, and I'll break your neck with my own hands."

"I doubt that very much. I have no intention of turning my back on you." Lorraine's smile was smug, but her voice wavered ever so faintly. The first palpable crack in her composure that Marle had seen. 

Above them, hanging high over Magus's head, a brilliant bolt of light burst, like a star in the throes of death. The light was only matched by the scream that tore from the dark mage's throat as he threw back his head, the air around him suddenly thick and wavering, flowing like heat across stone.

"What's going on...!" Marle grabbed for Crono's hand, barely catching it before the floor lurched. Under her fingers, though, there was no life. Crono didn't squeeze back - just stared dimly ahead. Nearby, Lucca stumbled and fell. Gaspar, spear upraised, advanced on Lorraine.

"What have you done? Have you taken leave of _all _of your senses!"

"Much as I enjoy our rapport, it seems my goals are closer to hand now. Forgive me, if I find it necessary to turn you out..."

"It's the Mammon Machine!" Lucca cried out, pointing at the steadily growing light above. 

"You'll kill yourself, Lorraine! You'll destroy the world!"

Lorraine's cold smile was fixed once again. When she spoke, her voice was so low it barely carried, even though aside from Magus's pained gasping, the chamber was moribund and still. "'_I desire to know the power and nature of time, by which we measure the motions of the bodies...'_"

A golden haze, like fog, collected around them all at once. Marle opened her mouth to scream, expecting a wave of pain that never came.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

Blinking eyes that she hadn't closed, Marle lay on her back in a gray room, surrounded by hulking machines and metal panels, all bearing a very unsettling resemblance to the corridors and old halls of the blackbird.

Crono lay some distance away, his face hidden under his hair and his arms crossed over his chest, for all the world as if he were asleep.

"I swear, this is the worst day..." she grumbled, picking herself up slowly. Every muscle felt loose and overused, as if she'd been running for hours, or soaking in hot water far too long. Closing her eyes, she felt the pulse of white light flicker through her, spreading gently like an invocation through her limbs, and she felt better when it passed, if only a little.

Everything was still sharp and fresh in her mind, and she knew that, wherever they were still somewhere on the island, though probably far away from Lorraine and whatever she was planning. It wasn't a comforting thought, which was surprising. She was hoping it would be. Who would have thought, on top of everything else, she could be feeling sorry for Magus right now?

"Crono?" He shifted when she called her name, leaving the impression that he'd been conscious for some time now, just like she was, but the stab of worry didn't lessen. He made no mood to sit up, only lying there flatly, almost lost. "Crono..!" The second call was sharper. Still, he made no motion.

"Just leave me alone, Marle. I just... I just want some time to myself."

Something he'd never truly had, Marle thought wryly. But then, not something he had ever wanted. Crono knew what he was doing, at the Ocean Palace. He had _known _where that action would lead. At the time, how could he have fathomed that he might have been spared?

At that moment, she hated Lorraine more than anything. What right did she have to drag all of them into this? It was surreal. Zeal was gone. This was the past and it was dead, along with everything else that happened two years ago, and for God's sake, what right did she have to make them live it all over again? Especially Crono?

Glancing over at him lying there, she suppressed a sigh. Sometimes she wondered, when he was so wrapped up in his own strife, if he realized just what it took from the rest of them. Hope and despair had been her constant allies throughout the ordeal, always one or the other, and never any lesser, more neutral emotion.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting." He looked up, but she didn't meet his eyes. Right now she was composed, able to deliver what she'd been meaning to say for so long with a false sense of serenity, and it was important that it stay that way. "I know you must have felt something like that when I... well, when I... got lost, after the fair. I feel like it isn't really the same, because you knew what to do. Like you had some kind of direction even though it was all so weird. But..." she swallowed, but not hard. Her mouth was already too dry. "But you were dead. I actually watched you die, Crono."

"So what are you saying, Marle? That she's right?" When her resolve slipped, she knew it had been a mistake. His face spoke of nothing but pain, and there was no way she could blame him for it, because inside she was broken too. But she was learning. She was going to be a queen, after all, and the power of her own grace, as Leene once told her, was in her hands. "Are you saying that I'm not really here? That I'm just some kind of shadow...?"

The well inside of her gave way. His voice was small and sad and she felt so warm inside for him, her arms around him before she remembered moving. "No, she said, equally as quiet, "I'm saying that for two years, you've been pretending like nothing happened."

"I..." He didn't cry, but his body trembled when he pressed it against her - she didn't know what she'd do if he cried, and knowing how inevitable this moment was didn't fix the fact that it was _here, _and she still felt so lost for him. All she could do was hold tighter, her mind a white and holy prayer.

"It'll be alright," it was the easiest lie she ever told, and it was funny how wanting to believe something so badly really could make it feel true. There was some comfort - raw as it may be - in that. "You're nothing less, you know that? I know you feel like... you're afraid that you lost something. Like there are pieces that aren't coming back and I wish I knew how to find them for you..." because she felt the same way, the shadowy gap of timelessness no less real now than it had been at the time, when she'd re-materialized to find herself sobbing and bewildered by Crono's side.

With the emptiness came the overpowering fear, always assumed but never voiced, that at the end of her life, nothing else waited for her - no glorious rebirth or tranquil afterlife. Just the same cold, dark certainty that, at last, nothing would ever change, and there was no other thought that brought her less comfort. Every day for months she'd ventured into the Cathedral and sat for hours, finding some solace but never as much as she looked for.

If Crono searched at all, he did it quietly. She dreaded the things he must have pondered - that, if his soul had been given a chance at heaven and then brought back to earth, was that chance now lost? Would he ever actually feel alive again, when, as far as time was concerned, he hadn't really died? And what if, as Lorraine had so cruelly ask, time hadn't chosen him? Where would any of them be?  
Would it be so gracious again, if Crono failed this time? Only one altruistic act would be forgiven - eventually everyone died.

"It's hard to hate her, you know that?"

Marle looked back at him, blinking. "Lorraine?"

"It shouldn't be, since she's crazy, but it... it just is. I can't help but wonder... what happened? What did she lose?"

"Her home," Marle replied without thinking, the answer as easy as breathing, "probably her family, the use of her magic..." They weren't as used to their abilities as the Enlightened must have been, but not being able to call on the silver vein of ice that flowed under her skin was one of her larger fears. It defined her now, as a heroine and one of the knights that defeated Lavos. She knew that even without it, she wouldn't stop being Nadia, and that no one would love her less, but she wondered if she could forgive herself the loss of that particular vanity, the thing that distinguished her from everyone else.

At the same time, her own bitterness was barely blunted. A true queen knew how to contain things like that. The pain of others was never acceptable, no matter who they were, when the whole world was like a growing child that ought to be sheltered and cared for, showed carefully and tenderly what suffering was, to be kept safe as long as it could. All Lorraine knew was vengeance and thirst, and Marle couldn't excuse that.

Crono had good aim, she thought with a sad smile, feeling him settle against her. He knew exactly how to make the greatest impact without trying - how to always hit her where it counted. It wasn't intentional, since that sort of thing never was. If he ever figured it out, it probably wouldn't work anymore. Now, though, he could blow her clear open with one word, sometimes. 

"We've got to get out of here." It hurt to break their quiet, but it was the truth. Neither of them knew where they were, and her total lack of worry about it was almost alarming.

"What does it matter? The others should take care of it..."

"Okay, we're way out of time for self-pity, Crono." Annoyance. She hadn't felt that before, at least not toward him. 'Every right to be angry' meant when it was safe to be angry and withdrawn. Not now - not when everything was resting on him. She'd fought without Crono before, but she wasn't going to do it now, not when she didn't have to.

"Here. Get on your feet." She was surprised when he came up easily, not fighting. This was obviously something that wasn't done being an issue, but now was not the time for it. A sadly ironic thought.

Ollen70: For those of you who were worried that Lorraine was going to degenerate into the mustache-twirling, tying the damsel-in-distress-to-the-train-tracks type villain, rest easy. I don't believe in "evil" in a character anymore than I believe in absolute good. People are more complicated than that. The people _I _write about are, at least. 

So, for the few who are still reading this, thanks so much for sticking with me. This has been a blast to write, even though it takes me forever to post things, but it's nearing the end. As always, I'd love to hear what you think; everybody knows reviews are a writer's bread and water.


	13. The Restive

Ollen70: This is what we call a fairly short apology chapter. Apology, because it's taken me about a year to get my butt in gear and buy a decent computer. And about that long to figure how where _(the hell!!) _I wanted to go with the story. So, if any of you wonderful readers are still left, let me know what you think, please. And yelling at me is totally okay and forgivable. I deserve it. And, also, if the formatting's weird, this is about the first time in my life that I've used word rather than appleworks, so we'll see how that goes.

Disclaimer: (Do I still really need to say this…?) I don't own it. I'll never own it. If I ever own it, water's gonna start turning to blood in short order. So, yeah, there we go.

The Restive

"Laud ye together,

Rise to your goal:

Cleansed is the ether,

Breathe thou, O soul!"

Goethe, Faust

Coming to was a very strange feeling for Lucca. It felt like she'd skipped something, like she'd blinked and, rather than returning to the moment she'd been in, she was suddenly somewhere else. And, what was worse, she was alone.

The chamber around her was cool, blue-gray metal illuminated by an equally cool light that brightened without giving any character to the surrounding. Like waking up in a coffin, really. A very, very large coffin. The ceiling of the chamber was high, but what got her was how far back the walls were spaced, with scaffolding and other mechanical curiosities lending an illusion of separation.

It was a lab of some kind, reminding her however distantly of a much bigger version of the Bangor dome; a bled-out, abandoned ruin in a future hopefully long dead.

Had she been sent to the future? Lorraine as playing with powers she clearly didn't totally understand, but that still seemed a little unlikely. Since they'd pushed the _Eternity_ out of the time-stream, Lorraine hadn't actually shown any real influence over time at all. Sure, she apparently had teleport-magic down pat, and _something _had definitely gone on with the Mammon Machine if she'd been able to move the rest of them so effortlessly.

Or, she assumed the others had been moved too. It bothered her to think that Gaspar might still be there with Lorraine, attempting to settle with her on his own. Everything about their connection bothered her, though. If Melchior and Belthasar had the sense to track him down, she assumed things might go better, but what would be _best _was if she found them, got Chrono and Marle and Glenn and Magus, and then blew this stupid place into pieces with the strongest flare spell the world had ever seen.

But then, it probably wouldn't play out like that. There were things happening here that were quite a bit beyond her. Chrono's appearance in the fortress at all, for one thing. Somehow, they'd managed to make it to the _Eternity _without the Epoch, maybe using some kind of teleport spell of their own. Their magic was changing, and it was a frightening thought. Of everyone, Lucca knew her magic to have the most raw power – it was a source of pride for her. But to be left behind, again…

Refusing to think that way, she closed her eyes as tightly as possible, the little edges of a desperate prayer in her mind. How strange, that at that moment, she felt something… pulling. A tiny thread tugging from somewhere, as vaguely uncomfortable as the time Chrono had tied a string around a loose tooth to see if he could help her pull it out. She smiled at the thought, and the pull seemed to increase.

Divining, she though they called it, when someone felt something they couldn't see. It wasn't something she'd ever done before, since it seemed more like the mystic's type of magic than a human's, but she went with it, stepping forward timorously. A second step, and then a third, and, weird as it was, she could swear there was a voice buried somewhere in her mind, urging her along. Maybe one of the others, calling out with their magic?

She went faster now, through the massive chamber. Who knew if this would even work? It was a chance, though, and it beat standing around, waiting for something to find _her. _

The chamber didn't actually twist, but it felt like it did as she went, peering behind outcroppings of metal and massive, half-built shells. A voice rang, and it almost brought her to a stop. Not out loud – buried somewhere inside her. _This way. Just a little further. That's it, love._

If she were going crazy, that was one thing, but she didn't think she'd ever been tempted to call herself 'love,' even in her own mind. Weird, and a little unsettling. She kept coming, though. It was a start, and that's all she needed.

_Turn here, _the voice urged, trilling a tiny little laugh that didn't at all seem malicious, but as soon as she rounded the large pile of slag and what appeared to be hull-plating, she froze.

"No…"

A figure, golden hair hanging to his waist, crouched before one of the metal shells. The air smelled acrid around him, and he held a tool close to his body. How he heard her over the crackle of his work, she didn't know, but it also didn't particularly matter. As he rose, she unholstered her gun.

"Stop right there."

"Not so much as a hello, eh? You wound me…" Dalton sauntered forward like a specter, and locked her fists tight around her wondershot. "Ah, well, I suppose I shouldn't have expected better. From one of those who deposed me, no less."

"Not a king then, not a king now," she told him ominously, her barrel never straying far from his face. "Try anything, and I do mean _anything, _and I'll take care of that other eye for you."

Dalton only smiled. In her mind, Lucca heard his laugh after he'd bound and tormented them in the queen's hall at their first encounter. "Not polite for a maid, not in the least. But I wouldn't be as foolish as that. Even moved by Lavos, I fell twice to you. I don't intend to do it a third time."

"You may not have a choice," she shot back. At this Dalton's lips thinned, no longer resembling a smile.

"If it's revenge you want, I can assure you I've suffered. My body out of my own control, then given it back in the void with the golem…" he shuddered abruptly, and she noticed with grudging suddenness that the air of danger and the crackle of magic around him was almost entirely gone.

"Are you in league with Lorraine?"

"The mad-woman? Hardly." This time the laugh was purely incredulous, but the sound of it still made her skin creep. "She might very well think so, though. Expected me to be no different from before – as if years in the void wouldn't give a man time to repent."

"It'd also give him time to plan revenge, wouldn't it?"

"In some of my darker fantasies, I certainly considered it. Not against you, fool." He smirked again. Lucca bit her lip. Different or not, she was under no obligation to _like _the man. "Wretched though you were, what the daemon did with my body… though I suppose I shoulder not a little of the blame, don't I? In those days power was power, to wield or to lose. I did both."

"Don't expect sympathy from me."

"Ha! I'm not as daft as that." With that, as if they were in some strange audience-hall, he turned and waved one hand dismissively. "Whatever your reasons for coming, I suggest you leave before you're discovered. Lorraine has her lackeys and her creations hunting you, and I'd truthfully rather not be caught in the middle of it."

"What are you doing?"

"My task, what else?" "You didn't think she'd free me without expecting a return on her favor, did you? And in her case, she holds magic enough to demand it."

It occurred to her then that the metal object in his hands looked strikingly similar to her own arc-welder, the latest and most extravagant tool her father had purchased for her. Overcoming her shock, she glanced into the shadows of the chamber, the horror of what she saw lapping gently like water at her feet. A metal shell, not yet covered with hull-plating or domed glass, hunched oppressively above them.

"This is… the Epoch?" Further into the shadows, more of the shapes loomed. And the chamber itself… "The blackbird?"

"Those are old names," Dalton told her, not looking in her direction. "She'll no doubt call them something else, once they've been finished. And let me assure you, the blackbird will seem very small, compared to this vessel."

"You're working for her. You might call it something else, but you're building her an army!"

"Should it keep me from being killed, I can promise you, I'd do far more than that. But this was my task. It's a strange thing, magical compulsion. So long as I keep Lorraine directly from my thoughts, it isn't difficult to be content here. Almost the way things used to be, before… well, what does that matter?"

The words weren't all intended for her. Under other circumstances, she might have liked to know what he meant, but she was still more greatly appalled at what was taking place.

"How do I break the compulsion?"

He laughed again, still mostly absorbed in using his torch, gently reddening a long strip of the metal frame. "You're the greater wizard, of the two of us. If I knew how it was done, don't you think I would've tried?"

"Well, can you fight it?"

"No, it doesn't seem so."

"So, you'll build her a fleet of time machines?"

This time, when it laughed, it was long and loud and filled with pleasure. Stopping, he paused to wipe his eyes, unconcerned by how she scowled at him. "It might not have occurred to you, curious as you are, that Lorraine's faults are nothing like your. While you ask too many questions, she never learned to ask enough."

"Cut the games, would you?"

He held up a placating hand. "I'm getting there, I'm getting there. You realize, though, that she does things a bit more… haphazardly than the old queen? Ordering me to build her a fleet because I once worked with Belthasar. She only asked if I could build her ships. The vessel I helped construct had no temporal core – Gaspar hadn't yet finished it." His grin was oddly triumphal. "I can build her all the ships she may like, and the spell will break. But they'll be as useful to her as chaff, if she thinks to change time."

"It could be an invasion fleet," she reasoned. There did seem to be problems with Lorraine's approach, but she doubted if the woman were as short-sighted as Dalton thought. She _had _resurrected a good portion of Zeal with apparently little trouble. "Maybe she thinks she'll conquer the world the old fashioned way."

"Hmm. Not recommended, given my own… embarrassing debut on that count, but I suppose there's always the possibility." He then turned again, leaving her standing there. She watched him for a moment.

"You don't think I'm just going to leave you here, do you? Like you can just keep working…?"

His eye almost twinkled, another very odd thing to see. "Would you prefer I come with you? Allies, or something obscure like that? Ha! What would your princess say, providing she's even still with you?"

"I'm _not _leaving you here," she said again, with a sizeable increase in conviction. He was obviously different from before, but he was still Dalton. The fact that Lorraine brought him here was all the reason she needed to make sure he didn't stay.

"Open your eyes. I can't break the spell, as we've well-established. So long as it' in place, I'll work." He gestured to the pile of scraps around them. "And it seems I'll be at it for quite some time. If I'd known how effective a casting it was, I would've paid more attention when some of the scholars laid it on the Earthbound. The Ocean Palace might have been finished months ahead of time." Still muttering, he lifted another thin strip of sauttering metal. She stood there dumbly for a moment, watching him feed it into his device.

"You haven't started enforcing the hull yet, have you?" It struck her all at once. If Dalton was right bout Lorraine, she might not have considered a crucial point.

"No," he replied, sounding vaguely perplexed. "I'll need all of my magic for that. And the frame of this ship isn't ready yet…"

"But you could do it now, couldn't you?"

"In small pieces, yes. But it would waste my time and my –"

She didn't wait for him to finish. Picking up an armload of bright metal fragments, she passed them to him. The arc-welder clattered to the floor.

"What are you-"

"She didn't tell you that you had to work _here, _necessarily, did she?"

He stared silently, awkwardly. When she thought he was bound to refuse, a wry smile skittered over his scarred face.

"Premature to say, given what a grace-less whelp you are, but I imagine I might not mind you so much as I'd once thought."

"Well, I guess that's better than nothing," she told him, relieved and still confused as to why. "Let's get out of here. I think there's a way out over there…"

Ollen70: It raises more questions than it answers, but the story's underway, and I'm thinking I'll actually finish it pretty soon. If you're wondering what happened to everyone else, give it time. We'll get there soon.

S always, reviews make writers happy. Happy writers write faster. Faster writing gives reviewers more new stuff to read. So, yeah, hooray for cause and effect.


	14. The Moment

Ollen70: Geez, it's been, what, a year since I've updated this? More? I'm a bad person. BUT! It's still alive! Kind of. I'm not promising that this chapter is anywhere close to good, but I'm pretty happy with it so far, and motivated to finally finish this story after so much delay.

Thank you thank you thank you to Archica for reviewing the last chapter. I'm still working on the 'having a plot' and the 'resolving the plot' issues, so we'll see what happens.

The Moment

***********

"Afar above in the eternal and unknown night, the stupendous desolation of the dead world, and the eternal snow and starless dark. And, as I do think, a cold so bitter that it held death to all living that should come anigh to it." ~ W. H. Hodgeson, 'The Night Land.'

***********

Following after Marle was like learning to walk again. Chrono came with halting steps, not willing to pull her back but hardly eager to head down the corridors. The area where they now stood was apparently familiar to her, because she strode through it as though she'd done it a thousand times already, one hand locked around his wrist and another twisting at the prone key of the Valkyrie.

Sections of the floor weren't actually floor at all, but a conveyor like those in the factories of the far future. Every time he stepped off one, his body forgot how quickly he'd been moving and nearly fell over onto Marle. She hardly noticed, focused as she was on their supposed destination.

Likening this place to the Geno dome made him even more uncomfortable here. The dome had been a factory of death, meant to convert life into fuel, and he couldn't help but wonder what Lavos and the queen's influence on that place had been - if Zeal and its utter contempt for those who weren't Enlightened had shaped the mindset of the mother brain.

And one dark question led to another, as the metal floor of the corridors sounded out under their feet. Had the gurus known the queen's purpose? Hadn't Belthasar been the one to build the Ocean Palace and the Blackbird, and probably the original Skyways and the other devices that had totally stratified the Kingdom? And all three of them had taken part in building the Mammon Machine…

Mentally, Chrono paused. But that's also where things started to fall apart, as far as his theory was concerned. Melchior had been sealed on Mount Woe for opposing the queen. And no one really knew where Gaspar was, but from what Lucca had told him later, it sounded as if he'd been off making the trigger at the time. Had he expected to have to use it? Was it simply another experiment to him, an interesting aspect of the laws of time? But Lorraine…

Marle was right to call her crazy, but there was more to it than that. The look on her face when she'd spoken to him was very familiar. 'This can't be… this can't be the way it ends…" the voice rang in his mind, accompanied by the acrid tang of the air in the Arvis dome in a future that no longer existed. The agony in Marle's eyes, was touched with something more potent. There was nothing but determination, and the absolute assurance that, whatever everyone else thought, she was _right._

The reek of the corridors burned his nose and he coughed violently, still somehow managing to keep his feet beneath him. It smelled every bit as caustic as the apothecary's shop, as disinfected and as dead.

"You there, stop where I can see you!" Marle had the Valkyrie in her free hand in a single moment. Chrono wasn't sure what had happened, too absorbed by thought to pay much attention to what was going on around them.

He didn't draw his katana, since the hunched figure was still some distance away, crouched over a console in what appeared to be the control room of… wherever it was that they were. Chrono hadn't remembered passing through any doors, but here they stood, in a three-sided room that opened windows onto a whispery gray light and curtains of lashing snow.

"Well, it's right about time, isn't it?" The black-cloaked figure turned, and Chrono couldn't help but think how oddly familiar the eyes were, even if the person before him was foreign. "Had to turn up sooner or later, didn't you? Though I imagine you've already seen Gaspar and your inventor friend, if you've ended up here, am I right? Have you tried your power against hers?"

"Are you…? Wait a minute, who are you…?" Marle fumbled for a moment, but her outcry caused him to look closer. The man in front of them was young, broad-shouldered and in no way as wizened as the Guru of Life had been in any time period they'd encountered him, but he was very clearly one in the same. "Melchior…?"

"Were you expecting someone else?" came the almost wounded reply. "Gaspar did get a bit carried away, didn't he? Well, I suppose it served the purpose. Largely."

"I Thought you were one of Lorraine's men…"

"And I can forgive you for that. I don't think she honestly intended to send us here, given how lax her patrols are. I've only encountered a handful of workers, and few enough of them had wits enough to answer my questions." He sat back on his heels, finally turning to face them both. "She learned enough from the old queen, it would seem. I've not come across a single one of her followers who wasn't magicked in one way or another. I doubt if they'd follow her, otherwise."

The man lay aside a handful of curious instruments, approaching them deliberately. His smile seemed genuine and his eyes concerned, but Chrono noticed with odd clarity that he slipped a single fragment into the folds of his cloak with a haste that didn't seem fitting. It sparkled like gold for the single second he saw it, but was given no chance to question the guru.

"A relief you're here, no doubt. I wasn't quite sure you'd manage it. If the circumstances warrant it later, I'll sit you both down and have you explain just exactly how you did it."

"Did what?" Marle asked, leaving the distinct impression that she was still rattled by his presence. "Oh, you mean the skyway?"

Melchior nodded, his mouth warming around the edges. "A skyway, eh? I was in my seventeenth year of learning before I attempted anything close to that. Not a little impressive..."

"Admire it later," Chrono bit out tersely. More terse than he'd really meant, and the note of surprise showed in the man's face. Marle, he noticed with a strong pang of regret, appeared vaguely hurt, as if he'd snapped at her. "We're not planning on standing around, waiting for her to finally come after us, are we? You've got some kind of plan, right?" At that, the guru beamed.

"Of course. Rather clever one, I think. Come here, both of you. I'll show you." He gestured them toward the panel, on which lay, among other things, a collection of stones. "These are from the ocean palace, these dark pieces. I had a bit of the metal left on my person, and thank the Lord I kept them after the first disaster." With a long finger, he tapped the more brownish stones laying on the right of the console. "These here are common rocks I collected from the Eternity only a few moments ago."

"You're picking up stones at a time like this?" Marle didn't quite manage to sound incredulous, but the implication was there. "There isn't anything more urgent for us to be doing…?"

"The others can manage all of that for now. It may very well give us the edge we need, if my hunch is right."

"Then, you're looking for similarities in the two spells?"

"Clever girl!" Melchior reached out to pat her arm. It struck Chrono as odd, a gesture that clearly didn't fit the man's newly assumed age.

"Wait… what?" He asked, still a little muddled.

The two turned identically measured glances toward him, and for the moment he felt very small and more than a little foolish.

"Simple business." Melchior held out his hands over the first bit of metal, tracing a trenchant place along its otherwise smooth edge. The smallest of the silver instruments pulsed a weak little glow that Chrono could feel behind his eyes. "Lorraine's a bit new to this business of large spells. Her majesty called on the full power of Lavos to raise the Ocean Palace, and by now we all well know what it cost her. Lorraine hasn't measured out her hand quite so well." At once his eyes shone, sharp and bright, and Marle took a perhaps unintentional step backward. "We might be able to take it all apart, right out from under her. I'll need the help of the two of you, I'm sure you realize. My own magic isn't near great enough, alone."

It was to Chrono that he passed his silver oddment, an eye-piece with a lens like a jeweler's glass and a gear face like that of an old watch. "In this, you can be as helpful as I. All of these sorts of spells take a bit more from the caster than most realize. If Lorraine ever learned that, which I very strongly doubt, it was quite some time after she left our lessons."

"Do you have any idea what her intentions are? Why she went to all this trouble in the first place?" Again, Chrono felt both of their eyes, but couldn't keep the question from his lips. He locked his gaze on the guru, watching for something – anything – that would dispel the growing doubt in his mind. Clearly he knew more than he chose to share, and could be any number of reasons why. He hoped they were harmless, but he'd learned not to take chances. Taking the strange device, he held his breath for a moment when Melchior finally broke his glance.

"I'm ashamed to say I don't. Not directly." The man's thick, dark hair had dropped down to shroud his face, and Chrono looked away, sickened at heart for reasons he couldn't name.

***

Magus's throat was raw, so much so that breathing was a great discomfort. He hung from the plinth, no longer willing to bother supporting his own weight. The machine above him still whirred, and it appalled him to think that when he'd first heard it, he'd thought the sound oddly pleasant. It was a rattling monster crouching over him, waiting for his own unwilling command before it drank even more deeply of his strength.

As the prophet, years upon years later, he'd grown to almost disdain Schala for her weakness, passively crouching there in the warp while the fool Chrono had immolated himself and Magus's own strength had whetted Lavos' horrible maw. But for her to have first endured this…

His anger burned at Lavos anew. A shame, that the thing was already dead. But there was still the black wind, strong as ever, and his skin pebbled because of it. For years, crouched in Ozzie's castle, its presence had been a macabre comfort, if only because it was a bond he and Schala had shared. Never mind the renown it had brought him, or the eventual title.

With a sigh, he reluctantly allowed his thoughts to revisit those old days. His appearance in the forest glen had been a boon for Ozzie, looking for nothing so much as a jester, a freakish human for his faux court to abuse. And then, after it became clear that even Flea was a weakling by comparison, he thought to make Magus a weapon, a mindless wolf-hound that did as it was told. Magus almost smiled at the memory of Ozzie falling all over himself, when the fat lout realized that Magus was no-one's puppet. The magic he'd learned to master in the dark corners of Ozzie's halls was appropriately terrifying – anything less, and the Mystics would have overwhelmed him.

But there had been cost, of course. He'd been naive to think it could have been otherwise. That sort of magic wasn't called upon, like the elements. Dark magic was a river of poison - the longer it was used, the greater the damage. His body showed clear evidence of that, but at the time, it hadn't mattered. His renewal was unprecedented – the magic he awakened had done more than simply horrify his captors. Parts of it had horrified him as well, bringing to life specters he hadn't yet fully laid to rest. It had won him power, though. Power enough to summon Lavos, disastrous as that had been.

The war had been an unfortunate consequence. Playing on the Mystic's hatred of humans had given him both the resource and time to summon Lavos. Even Ozzie never would have allowed it, had he known Magus' actual intent. Better to keep them obsessed with an impossible goal than show them his greatest weakness, the one advantage Ozzie might have used to put himself over Magus once again.

And suddenly their goal hadn't been impossible any longer, and Magus had been secretly delighted to show the Earthbound their place, those who had outlived their betters. Had he held back, kept the Mystics distracted, the Earthbound might not have shown their desperation for a hero. Cyrus might not have risen, and brought with him the brat called Glenn, the one who'd seemed so sniveling, so weak at the time…

There were too many similarities. Magus never would have admitted that, but in his dark moments he suspected that Glenn must have known from the moment he'd discovered Magus' identity. The Janus of the past, nothing better than a fearful child hiding that fear with a petulant defiance…

Hanging from the plinth, Magus snorted. Such a fearsome figure he'd once been.

Vengeance was his purpose and pride his weakness, and he knew these things. But this… this was _confusing_. Lorraine's presence, and the tear in time, and now the Mammon Machine.

Lorraine had strutted off some time ago, hiding her obvious exhaustion behind a haughty smile, and had yet to reappear. It mattered little. Ineffectual as all her ruses might yet prove to be, she had no small skill in the areas of magic. Certainly nothing like Magus's own. His power was a battleaxe, remarkably effective when swung with a strong arm. Hers was far more exacting, hardly able to last under a direct blow, but subtle enough to prevent him from ever gathering himself enough to deliver one. There was no breaking the bonds she'd laid on him, not as he was now. But it was clear to both of them that the true power of the Mammon Machine wasn't being realized. It had done that for Schala only when she'd yielded herself to it, and in time, Lorraine was bound to be foolish enough to think she could convince him to do the same.

She had breathed her lies about Schala, and the legacy of the device, and all of the promises and glories and beauties of the future she had yet to design, but Magus saw little more than a petty tyrant. Lorraine hadn't fooled him, but the frightening thought occurred to him that perhaps she wasn't truthfully trying to fool _him_ at all. And what unsettled him all the more was the realization that if even a fragment of her ravings about Schala were true and she was truthfully lost forever, he was running out of reasons to resist her.

"Well, this is certainly a predicament, isn't it?" Magus was shaken from his reverie at once, looking up so quickly that his vision swam for a moment. When it cleared, a man stood before him, clad in the purples and reds of a regal of Zeal, but the voice was barely a man's. Some strange cross between male and female with the odd lilt of a child tossed in apparently for good measure. He stared at the figure for some time, wondering what to make of it. The man watched him with wide and somewhat unsettling eyes, not at all touched by the stretching silence.

"Are you one of hers?"

"If I were, you hardly think I'd admit it, do you? Well, no, I suppose that might depend on what you think she would want from you, whether being direct was the best course or not. A bit of a conundrum, yes?" The man cocked his head to the side and seemed much more like a little bird than a blond-haired, well built young man, one of those who had at one time been the soldiers of Zeal.

"Set me loose."

"Oh, my love, I can't do that."

"You're here without her knowing. Of course you can." Magus's original contempt changed form entirely. The strange figure rose up on his toes, bouncing just slightly, and it was an oddness that could only be associated with madness or something worse.

"Well, _can, _yes, in the sense that I might be capable of it. But not _can, _in the sense that I'm permitted to."

"Then you _are _hers."

"That isn't what I meant." Again came the unsettling smile.

"If you aren't here to help me, I hardly see how it matters." Magus half-hooded his eyes, aware that baiting this figure might not be wise, but hardly able to help himself.

"Well, now you're only being difficult. I can do _this, _can't I?" He waved a hand, and though Magus saw and felt nothing, the rawness in his throat was gone. The dull hammering behind his temples, corresponding to the Mammon Machine's clock-like pulse, was drastically lessened. Unlike healings he'd received in the past, he felt as though he'd been resting for days, a perfectly natural health in place of the false, unsatisfying comfort that came from a cure spell, even those as well crafted as the princess's.

"Would you like a cloak? A tunic, possibly? Seems a bit ridiculous of her to let you risk chill, being chained there like that." With another wave, a jerkin of silver links and light blue silk and an ankle-length cloak of a cut and design that Magus never would have considering choosing on his own unfolded from the air, wrapping over his exposed flesh. "That's better, isn't it? Dashing, I think. Fortunate for you that brocade is such an old fashion. I'd risk making a mess of things if it weren't, wouldn't I?" He laughed at himself and Magus barely managed to keep calm.

"What are you?" he managed to ask, his voice as level as he could keep it.

"What am I not?" The man paused a moment, blinking. "That's… that's not quite right, is it? How would you say that? 'What aren't I?' Is that better? Well, which-ever it is," he went on breathlessly, "it all amounts to the same thing, doesn't it? I am what I am, and you are what you are, and what you are right now is in a bit of a predicament." He paused again and blinked. "Did I already say that?"

Magus only stared at the figure, not quite believing that the man was entirely real.

"I'm not here in any official capacity. Probably shouldn't be here at all, but, one way or another, I seem to have involved myself already." The man spoke largely to himself, though his eyes never so much as darted away from Magus's.

"Then ease my bonds," he said carefully. "How can that be worse than what you've done?"

"It's a different circumstance, dear. A different area completely. If you really needed me to, well, this would be another tale altogether, wouldn't it? It wouldn't be yours, and I think you'd very much like it to be, wouldn't you?

"Are you every kind of a fool?" He asked, bitter because of a rising panic rather than because he honestly believed it. He'd tested himself here already – his power couldn't overcome Lorraine's.

"No," came the startlingly flat reply. "No, I'm not."

"Then… then why did you…" Very suddenly he found himself wishing the odd creature would simply vanish again. Magus had lived long enough and faced terrifying enough creatures that most stories of beings of great power were nothing more than myths to him, but he began to wish that he'd read some of the tomes in Ozzie's library a bit more carefully.

"'_For if they do these things in a green tree, what shall be done in the dry?'_" Once more, the man seemed to be speaking to himself, but his aspect was less cold than it had been just a moment before. "We could banter for as long as you like, love, but eventually she'll come back, and that would ruin everything, wouldn't it? If you'll allow yourself to listen for a moment, I imagine what you'll learn could be of very great value to you." His smile brooked no argument, and when he saw that Magus offered none, he gestured to the device above them.

"The Mammon Machine is interesting enough, isn't it? All the souls in the world, tied into its light. That's where the power comes from, I'm sure you know. Every soul, and each as unique as the glint from every star. Peculiar, to think that so much supremacy hides in so simple a place. Something to consider, no? That all of the power of a being as frightful as Lavos was channeled first out of a place as soft as a dream." His gaze took on a harder edge. "I suppose it isn't _always _soft."

And with that, the figure was gone. The air did not ripple – there was no smoke or light. The figure was simply there, and then gone. Powerful a mage as he was, Magus recognized the strength of the magic necessary to do such a thing, and could not entirely suppress a shudder, though unspoken questions still filled his mouth.

And yet, thinking on what he'd been told, he felt the edges of a smirk pull at his lips. Yes, perhaps things might become a bit more interesting after all. His eyes closed gently, his mind a crystal sphere.

"Neuga, zeina, zeibor, zom … now, the chosen time has come…"

Ollen70: So there you have it. More is coming soon. And, like always, reviews make me happy, and happiness makes me write faster. Or something like that.


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Chrono Trigger, Adventure, Drama