The Omen and the Prophet

by Lore_Matrix

Summary:

...And if she must wander aimlessly instead of be lost, then so be it.

For once, let the future not refuse change.

In nearly a whisper, as if Lavos cared to hear through the machine, Magus leaned towards Schala's ear. "Janus lives."

The magic in Schala's hands flickered and went out in an instant. Her arms fell limp and if it wasn't for the Prophet holding her, she would have thought she was already dead. "W-what?"

*********

Instead of Schala sending Magus and the surviving party members out of the Ocean Palace, Magus convinces her to leave him behind so she can live. But this means Magus is now trapped in the Black Omen and Schala is left with no choice but to join the others on their quest to defeat Lavos.

Chapter 1: The Fall of the Ocean Palace

The cry of Lavos rang out through the Mammon Machine chamber. The once thought-indestructible beams of the Ocean Palace cried out against the pains of the angered monster. Flashes of light flashed across the machine that opened the doors to the horrid creature, overloaded from such close contact to the events that had just transpired in the room beyond.

The floors shook to the point where the four escaping figures, even if they had the strength, could not stand as they teleported back to the Mammon Machine audience chamber.

Marle collapsed onto the shaking floor, heaving her lungs out onto the ground as the same thing played in her head over and over: Lavos was right there! Right in front of all of them! The sky had shaken with his fire and everything was just...gone.

And then Crono stood up!

Just for Lavos to disintegrate him where he stood!

That beam of light from Lavos's mouth erupting around Crono, shredding him to pieces that couldn't even be called human remains...

He was gone.

Crono was dead.

Crono was dead!

No, no, no, no nonononono, Crono was dead?!

Lucca shoved her hand against her knees, trying to even sit up with the burning ache in her shoulders, her back, her knees, everywhere save the tiny part of her that reasoned she was needed somewhere else right now. Marle needed her.

Yeah. Marle needed her. She could get up for that. Crono would want her to take care of Marle for him...

Schala, the princess they had barely spoken a few sentences to, looked as if she was about to throw up across her purple robes. Her hair hung in her pale face, the lightning arched through the Mammon Machine making her look almost ghostly.

Gone.

He was gone.

That boy who had been willing to help her. He was also taken by Lavos.

Like everyone was!

Mother's mind was taken by Lavos.

The Gurus were banished by Lavos.

Janus might have been dead by Lavos!

And now Crono, the only one who she had dared plea with for help, was dead! By the whim of Lavos!

The only one who had escaped that foul parasite's wrath was her father who could rest easy in that he died before they knew of that thing's existence!

And what was there now? Schala was no fool, and if she was to be part of Lavos's immortal life... What fate is that? To offer her magic to the parasite, let her kingdom grow and prosper, and watch everyone who may have heard her name eventually crumble to him?

What sort of life was worth that sacrifice...?

But that left only one... The man who became a monster to defeat a greater one.

He had been so close! Close enough to reap Lavos by his own scythe! A parasite, not a Mystic, not a man, but the prize that would make these 20 years of exile a worthy price.

But instead, now when he tried to see, the shadows were not as vibrant. The magic was less tangible. And Lavos still lived.

"I haven't the power to defeat him, then?" It was so quiet, he could hardly hear it himself.

"Crono?" Marle gasped, looking around the room in a frenzy. "Where's Crono?!"

There was Lucca, okay, good, Lucca is still here, maybe we're fine.

The princess, uh, Schala! Schala was here! Looks like she might hurl, but she's alive!

Her eyes widened at the man in front of her.

She'd heard of the Fiendlord but never saw him for herself. The ruler of the fiends was somehow haggard and strong at once, skin so pale it was actually grey, and features that were entirely too angular to be human, like he had been cute out from stone. The only thing that didn't instantly make her shout "Mystic!" was that he was dressed in the vibrant colors and cuts that were more like one of the nobles she'd grown up with in Guardia than any of the fiends they'd come across.

This would probably have been a moment that chilled her to her core. Or one that involved slamming the but of her crossbow into his razor-tipped nose.

But he was not the man she was looking for.

The Mammon Machine sparked overhead.

Marle's eyes tried to fill with rage for that cursed thing! But all that was left was to realize what had happened.

And that Crono wasn't with them.

"Noooooooooooo!" she shrieked, curling her arms in on her stomach and teetering just to stay upright.

"Crono..." Lucca choked. "There was nothing I could do!"

The Ocean Palace roared as the lights flickered overhead.

Schala tightened her fists against her stomach, pinching her eyes closed as she struggled to stand.

The palace was falling apart. And if she was doomed to this life, at the very least, there were people here who had not yet been forced to suffer with her.

People that might still be saved from her and her kingdom.

Two of Crono's friends and the Prophet. The only people to survive her mother's hopes and dreams.

Straightening herself, she addressed them one last time as a princess. "The last of my pendant's power will send you to safety." She turned away as one of the girls, the one with the green helmet, looked up at her. "I know you will not be able to forgive her, but...please do not hat my mother, or our kingdom."

No. This was one last time. She would at least look at the last people who would see her face.

Perhaps they had all tried to help her, in some way. Or perhaps they were just tools for her mother. But now...

"I'm so sorry!"

She grasped the pendant around her neck, feeling the cool stone's tiny pulse of magic in her tired hands.

"Now quickly--to the surface!"

Magic began to pour through her veins, filling her aching chest with something warm and bright, familiar but now laced with the memories of everything it had done. Words flowed off her tongue as easily as fire dancing in the winds. She held her hands up to the three of them, drawing up the magic from herself and casting its glow around all of them. Safe from the touch of the Mammon Machine.

The girl with the glasses tried to say something, but the magic had already encased her in the delicate chanting of the Zeal princess.

Even if the other girl could have tried to say anything, the sound of Schala's magic would have quieted her meek parting words.

But the Prophet, when the prickle of light magic began to burn at his skin, his eyes finally widened to the world around him. To the young woman in her royal robes chanting a spell that would send them all from the palace.

From the place fate had brought her so he might interfere.

Magus felt the light magic began to drag him away from the room, he knew he would only seem as a ghost to anyone looking on, and that only afforded a moment of thought.

His magic reserve was nearly dry, like scraping at the sides of a well in a desert. But shreds of hope were what he had been forced to contend with for as far and his long memory could stretch.

And there were still many things he had to do with the royals of Zeal before they would cast him out again!

He spat a single word from his ragged breath and burst of shadows erupted from the palm of his hand, shattered the casing of light magic a the two girl disappeared from the room.

Schala gasped, pulling her arms to her chest as she struggled backwards, hands fumbling for the pendant. "No... No, what did I--?"

"You did nothing," Magus chided her, brushing aside the magic in his hands. "And now you must flee from this place."

Schala's mouth remained open for too long before she could shake her head. "Prophet, please, understand. You are not of Zeal, you have no place in my mother's plans if you do not desire them."

The scowl on his face deepened, watching the woman struggle to grasp the words on her tongue as she held out her arms again. "Then you forfeit yourself to this place for that wretch?"

Schala turned her eyes to the man who she had only met so recently. His silence was always the most tangible thing about him, always stalking along the edge of the Zealot courts and scarcely having a word of comfort when he did speak. Yet always to her mother, his words belonged, as if he could fall at her feet and whisper the truths of her glory and power that could sustain her without Lavos. Because every word of the future had been true. And truth came at a price in Zeal...

Indeed, this was the first time he had said something so...brash of Queen Zeal.

And that made Schala's ache simmer with anger. "Do not speak of my mother that way. You were an advisor closer than Dalton, an ally to her until the moment we came before Lavos."

"I told her of the future she wanted to hear," he revised. "And what have I said that has not rung true?"

"You deceived us," Schala started. "And if I may be bold to you, sir, but that implied that you may also see the flaws in our kingdom. And so I will now spare you our consequences."

Only the first word escaped her lips before the room shook again. Schala nearly fell to her knees before Magus caught her by the arm.

"Y-you see?" Schala exclaimed, letting him help her back to her full height. "The palace is going to collapse. I only have enough magic within me to send you away. Don't let my final act to the world be to let you stay in this place."

"Schala, you cannot stay," he ordered her.

Her distant eyes didn't match her smile. Nor did they match the sad way she shook her head. "Even if I cannot atone for what I have done, at least I can care for one more person. Please, Prophet, grant me that mercy..."

"What purpose is there for you to stay?"

"It is my duty to my people that I should stay. And it is your duty to return to your own so they may know never to follow what we have done here..."

"Your people have abandoned you for Lavos. There is no home for you here. Escape now so you may find peace elsewhere." He was almost pleading. It sounded so...foreign from his own mouth.

She remained rooted to her spot. "I ask that of you, sir. Find solace with your own people. My stance on the matter will not be shaken. I have given my life to Zeal, and if my kingdom should take my life, I will spare yours."

"...This is a matter you decided before today."

The lights overhead flickered.

Schala's distant smile burned into his eyes.

Her death was inevitable. Whether by Lavos, or by allowing Lavos to destroy the palace with her inside.

For the first time in a manner that was not Lavos's doing, fear was beginning to strike at Magus's heart.

"No." He watched the light in the woman's eyes refuse to reignite, no matter how tightly he held her standing, no matter how desperate his weakening voice may sound. "There is so much for life to bless you with, so much you have yet to even see. Beyond this twisted place, beyond where the black winds can find you, beyond castles and crowns and the darkness in your mother clawing for you as well."

"Then let you and the other share in the bounty of life," she insisted. "You say that I doom myself if I stay? You doom yourself if I left. My mother does love me, in her own way. But she will not stand for traitors."

"..." He could say he was prepared for that matter. He could say he was able to defeat her influence. But Schala would mirror that sentiment, the foolish girl... "Your skills are lacking with your age. If you were to face her wrath, you have little hope."

"And yours are currently drained. What hope would you have?"

A scythe? That seemed like a good answer.

"Please, Prophet, spare me the temptation..." Schala gently placed her hand over the one on her arm. How he longed to rip off that glove just so he could feel the touch of her skin, but he knew even a flicker of hesitation may mean she is lost completely. As it was, her eyes, green with flickering life, met his own, warped and red, and she could not let him throw away his life for her own, how worthless it is. "Now. Please let me be at peace."

Magic once again graced her fingertips, casting a gentle light between her and the dark lord.

But this time, Magus grabbed her hand, closing off the light and startling her from her spell.

The room shuddered around them again, alarms now ringing out from the hall as the Mammon Machine sparked with power so great it made the magic within both of them shudder.

Magus's gaze fell against the woman. Looking for the girl that had kept him alive for so long. She was so far away, even when his hands were holding her upright.

...And if she must wander aimlessly instead of be lost, then so be it.

For once, let the future not refuse change.

In nearly a whisper, as if Lavos cared to hear through the machine, Magus leaned towards Schala's ear. "Janus lives."

The magic in Schala's hands flickered and went out in an instant. Her arms fell limp and if it wasn't for the Prophet holding her, she would have thought she was already dead. "W-what?"

"He is searching for you," the bitter words continued. "He has been searching since the time gate took him from you."

"Where is he?" she choked.

"Only the Guru of Time knows," he practically grumbled before regaining himself. "Please, Your Highness. Live and find him."

The alarms were ringing in their ears so loudly, Schala barely heard what he said. But there was something in his conviction that made her know that this must be true.

Janus was a alive.

Lost to time, but alive!

Magus slowly released her, watching to see if she could force herself to stand on her own. When she slowly clutched her pendant again, he almost lunged for her to stop, but there was something more clear in her eyes. Something like the smallest flicker of an ember in a long dead fire. "You know of this through your visions of the future?"

"He sent me to find you," he quickly explained. In a way, he supposed it was true, Magus could be seen as a vessel for Janus's wishes, even if he did not think of it that way. "And I will see you to safety."

He saw the tips of her fingers begin to glow against the darkness.

What relief he was feeling could not know be seen, so he quashed it and barked, "Go. The palace has waited for you to leave long enough already. Don't let it fall before you try to find him."

Schala looked up at the Prophet one last time, squaring herself in his sight. "Do not worry yourself. Your work will not be in vain."

Magus took her oath with a solemn tip of his head before he removed himself from her completely, standing a few feet away.

"You will survive," she declared as he stood before her. "Do you understand? There is a portal at the north wing's end, if you are swift, you may yet reach it."

"I do not intend to perish in such place," he assured her, feeling the weight of the weapon under his cloak.

Schala smiled. Such a genuine smile this time that Magus relented perhaps even if he did die here, he would be content. She raised her hands again, opening them to the side so her magic would flow around her instead. The Prophet watched her for a long moment, assuming she would be on her way and this could be the last he saw of her. Except for one more request.

"Please, Prophet...what is your name? So I might tell Janus of you when I find him?"

He stiffened. Never one to be shocked, but he did not know of what she would hear wherever she landed, and he did not want a name like his to be the one who directed her to find Janus.

But at least his sister would know the name that tried to find her for 20 years.

"I am known as The Fiendlord Magus."

The words heavy in the air, she bowed her head. "Thank you, Magus. You have paid to me more than what I am due."

She took in a shaking breath and began to utter that words that would teleport her from the Ocean Palace. Magus looked on as his sister wrapped herself tightly in the warm embrace of her magic, and then as she disappeared from the Ocean Palace.

The princess of Zeal did not die here again.

The building felt like it may have been about to shred into two pieces after the quake that followed.

Magus leapt into the air on pure instinct, finding that what meager magic he still possessed allowed him to hover above the ground.

That would have to suffice.

Take his scythe from its holder, her threw himself to the wind, flying from the Mammon Machine chamber and into the hall. Sirens blared in his ears as the walls passed in a flash of black and gold, ignoring every flicker of light and every distant cry. He had studied the blueprints of the Ocean Palace to the point where he could have easily traversed it in complete darkness, and he now had the advantage of fewer guards being about to stop him. What little resistance he met was eviscerate in an instant by lightning he had learned to imitate.

The elevators proved to be a trick, as did a few Zealot who paused to fight him for a moment before he buried them under ice.

But it wasn't as if the Queen had disappeared when the others had been teleported into the Mammon Machine chamber.

And it wasn't as if the north wing would be abandoned.

And it was in the north wing where the Queen and the council were waiting...

"We are at the very cusp of greatness!" She turned to the council, a beaming smile washing over her face, hands raised to the ceiling of her glorious palace. "Lavos has blessed us today with the power of life immortal! Bow before the might of his illustrious might!"

Magus flew into the room with a scythe in his hand having just convinced her daughter to abandon her. Not to mention he had just revealed himself to her as a traitor and had tried to whack Lavos over the head with magic.

So both of them had to do a double-take when they saw each other.

The crowd looked between the two of them, unsure who this was that had burst in as they could sense magic on him but had no idea someone else had been invited to the palace.

Queen Zeal's lips twisted into a frown at the sight of the man. "You! Prophet of lies! How do you still live?"

"..." Magus tossed his scythe into both hands.

The queen was not one to be easily impressed and jabbed her finger towards the intruder. "Guards, seize him!"

Magus was not entirely impressed with the Zealot warriors, he cut down the first two easily enough. However his magic was still limited to cheap variants of everything but shadows, and what skill he valued with the scythe, he would not be able to fight off a horde of magic users.

Or even one, as it would seem...

The Queen cast a spell of light at the warlock, crashing into him as he drove his scythe into the heart of one of the Zealots. It ripped through his skin, driving itself into his mind and making it feel as if he was be dismantled at his joints, twisted inside out, and being sewn back together. The meager contents in his stomach almost retched into his brain and all of the air in his lungs dropped into his legs. There was a crowd of voices crying out, cheering or scolding, it might have been both, his senses were distracted by the sensation of someone grabbing his arms and wrestling him to the ground. He jerked his hand from one of them, but there were too many grabbing hands trying to take his scythe for any attack. Sparks of lightning danced against his fingers, but under his gloves they were useless.

They ripped his scythe from his hand. The blade nearly sliced open his neck as he tried to jerk away, but the guards somehow managed to keep him from accidentally killing himself as the pain wracked his body.

The Queen's laugh glided over the mumbling crowd. "Well then, Prophet, it seems you are not always able to see how fate may come to pass."

"Your Majesty, should we take him to the ejection room for disposal?"

If Magus wasn't teetering on unconsciousness in the warrior's arms, he would have quite a few words on that idea. Likely words that cast a curse on the guard's bloodline.

The Queen mused to herself for a moment before deciding with a flourish of her wrist, "No! He will stay here to watch as the fruits of his labor are employed. A fitting fate, would you say, Prophet? Ah ha ha ha ha!"

The council laughed along with her as she turned her outstretched hands to the center of the chamber.

Magus's labored breathing could hardly be heard over their cheers, but he would not be some inept prisoner.

If he could do nothing, then he would at least bare witness so he might watch the mad queen's inevitable folly.

"Lavos! I, Queen Jiru of Zeal, beseech you to bless us with your power. Grant us your magic, your might, so we obtain immortality for your glory!"

They all felt it. A wash of magic that washed against their skin, pulling at the fleshy bits that kept them in one piece.

The amulet around Magus's belt began to burn, but no one heard his gasp of pain as light washed through the room, the Queen's voice ringing over all of them with a gleeful smile of a mad woman's goals being met.

"Behold, my people! The brutal true form of destiny in all the dreams it might have been!"

Magic dug into the soft citizens of Zeal, burying itself in their bones.

"Gone forever the limitations of our past! Destiny has lead us here, where we shall stand forever!"

They cried out in joy as the magic of Lavos imbued itself in them!

Then there were cries of pain.

Of skin ripping and convulsing, of muscles tearing and twisting around each other, of bones snapping and putting themselves back together in the wrong places. Eyes bulging, tongue swelling, voices ripped from throats to be replaced with animalistic shrieking.

"Partake in Lavos's dream with me!"

One person felt the course of magic in the air, could practically taste its blood-tinged bite, how it clawed along his unnatural skin and buried itself in his once human eyes, yet Lavos's magic could not latch itself into him. The ailments of the others passed him by with a rebuking hiss, but though he was unlike any human ever known, when the power of Lavos breathed through the rest of the Zealots, Magus remained unharmed.

As he looked at the others, it was apparent he was the only human left in the room.

The Ocean Palace shuddered, though this time it felt more like a full earthquake was gripping the building. It almost felt as it if was rising into the air as the Queen breathed a long, pleased sigh.

There was a serene smile on her face as her eyes flickered open. Once green like her children's, they were now silver and bronze.

"Welcome, my people, to the palace that transcends time and space: the Black Omen!"

Notes:

I hope this was enjoyable to read!

I hope to continue this, but school is going to be back into full swing soon.

If I do, I'll probably change to first-person perspective just so we can see more of what Magus is thinking on this situation and what the rest of the party is thinking about Schala surviving. It'll include a bunch of headcanons about them, like Schala being a lightning elemental, why Magus wears gloves all the time, and other shenanigans.

If you have any headcanons, drop a comment, I'll see if I like it or can fit it in, or we can just enjoy everyone's thoughts. :)

Chapter 2: The Royals of Nothing

Summary:

I numbly shook my head, repeating "north by northwest of the farthest mountain" over and over with silent lips like a mantra. "Th-that will not be necessary. Thank you, Elder, thank you so much."

"What?" He nearly snapped his back in two as my poor, dead legs ran to the mountains. If I went along the coast, it would take me no time at all the pass by them! "Lady Schala, you are not--! You will freeze to death by nightfall!"

I was already past the strip of dead trees, over the short rocky jump to the black beaches, and was running across the snow-covered sands.

********
Schala wakes up in the Last Village after having drifted to shore and goes to the North Cape to see if anyone survived the crash of the Palace of Zeal. Magus is given a front row seat to the sci-fi horror that is the Black Omen.

Notes:

Shout out to ZealProphet's works for inspiring a lot of the history of Zeal mentioned in this chapter.

I had long come to believe that Zeal was the only place of warmth in this world.

It was a land of flowing green pastures as soft as the woven carpets in my chambers, floating on gentle air that kissed your glowing cheeks in a spring breeze. Lush hills that tumbled into the chiseled copper peaks adorned with marble castle of dreams and knowledge. All above them the great Palace of Zeal, like the crown nestle on the brow of an ancient queen who sat gently on her throne to mind her subjects.

How often I had looked from the open windows at the sprawl of that great copper skirt, down to the distant ring of laughter from the plains. Perhaps it was but my imagination dreaming of their little world, but oh how often I would believe I heard their laughter and their songs as my people celebrated living in such a land. Perching on my toes to look at the courtyards where jesters blew fiery birds through rings of ice to the tittering applause of the noble crowds. Or perhaps pressing my cheek to the floor so I could see through the little crack beneath the Guru's doors, wondering just why I wasn't old enough to meet my people.

"Princess Schala, you can't just be running amuck whenever you take fancy to the idea!" Guru Belthazar would finally round the corner, the Nu plodding quickly behind the man with the graying hair. "Especially with your mother in such a state! You'd do well not to give her heart a scare."

I would brush the dirt from my knees as I stood from the row of dusty books at the bottom of his private library shelves. Or from the little garden that was just a hop from my window. Or from the manuscript of winds that I would nudge closed with the tip of my slippers. "Yes, of course, sir guru. I apologize. It won't happen again."

Though, as I journeyed toward my first decade, it did seem that I had less of an inclination to trouble...

Mother was not strong in body, is the gentle way they would explain it to me, and to the rest of the kingdom. She was kind and tender to speak, but so much as foggy morning would give her a chill that lasted until summer was near to revive her frail form with the smell of jade flowers and honey.

There was always much ado about Mother, and as I had more important matters at hand than to see this as unusual, I would pass the time running through the bed chambers asking for Father as obviously Mother was ill again and could not stay awake for long enough to watch my skills with the little book of beginner magic Guru Melchior had given me for my 9th birthday.

That winter was colder than the last.

The memory is more akin to a dream. I had the urge to ask Father why he was pacing on the nice carpet with his muddy boots on, but something about the way his eyes fixed on nothing and his hands rang ribbons out of his hands gave me pause.

A moment later, a nurse stepped out from behind mother's door. She kept her head bowed before Father, and I swear her eyes darted to me, but Guru Melchior's hand was on my shoulder so I couldn't try to get closer to listen in.

But when Father's eyes had to turn towards the door, letting the nurse's words fall on deaf ears as he let his hands fall from each other, I realized what sort of scene was waiting for us as he gestured for me to join him. The weight of his hand guided me through the hours that followed, and when it left, I thought I might have wandered into a bed in Enhasa and simply forgotten to wake up.

Instead, Guru Gaspar and I were sitting in an alcove by the sealed window, our backs to the weeping train of mourning following the body of the dead queen of Zeal to bring it to its resting place.

"Guru Gaspar, sir?"

I could almost see the bubble of sleep pop around him as my voice broke the stiffened silence in the hall. "What is it, your Highness?"

"You're the Guru of Time. So that means you know how time works," I sniffled, rubbing the green cuff of my mourning dress against my eye.

"...I suppose I know ore than most people do on that. Yes. Why?"

I am sure by his tone, now that I hear it in my memories, that he knew what the young girl would ask him. "Can you think of a way to go back and save Mother?"

"I am afraid I cannot travel through time on my own. I'm a bit too frail for that these days and my magic wouldn't be able to make any kind of gate. Besides, it's best for us if we let time play out on its own. When we think we know better than life, reason, or time, we become easy prey to their whims."

"But what if you went to her before she died and brought her here right now? Then she wouldn't have died!"

The Guru of Time smiled. "You have a lovely imagination, your Highness."

The corners of my eyes welled full of water. At just a compliment. A silly little compliment that meant nothing but to praise me, but I did not want praise for myself. I wanted Mother... "I just want her to be with me right now."

The Guru watched my twisted, red face and pulled my shoulder against his orange robe.

I left my hands near my face an proceeded to try and breathe at his ques, trying to stop myself from letting my tears fall.

Father was rarely to be seen after Mother passed, being busy with Guru Belthazar as the Blackbird was completed. He had his doubts about the Father's choice in Captain Dalton, but he was a stalwart commander, even if his smile was only kind in the way sparks from a mad stovetop were cozy. The castle was important to maintain and the kingdom was expanding its wealth to its people. The Earthbound Ones were becoming restless, so Father would travel to debate with them, perhaps punish them as well from the few times he had been quickly rushed to his chambers and I was not allowed to see him until the healers had helped cover his bruising and bloody knuckles.

And, naturally, as he was king and I was his only heir, it was decided he should remarry straight away. For the good of the kingdom, he needed two heirs should something happen to me, and as Mother was too frail she had never been able to successfully have a second child. There had been hope she would have recovered from his sickness, but there was always another bed-ridden month shortly after one illness. Now that she was at rest, Father would have to find a new queen. So, a few months after Mother passed, he was wed to my new mother.

She was not a noblewoman of extreme standing. I was never quite told the reason for my father choosing her, so over the years I have come to assume she was selected rather than Father choosing her. Her demeanor was not so fitting for a queen, she would often be unsure of when she should speak and how, nor was she so greatly intelligent in her words that one could understand if she was intelligent independent of her nerves in the court. Or perhaps she was simply chosen because she bore the closest resemblance to Mother, and that may help the grieving king move on.

And as she was a wife for the sake of a job instead of for the sake of Father's love, soon she was with child.

The kingdom erupted into celebrations, musing on the child and the Queen as if she was some sort of blessing on the kingdom. A new prince or princess, what a thrill! There would no doubt be such celebrating and merrymaking, perhaps, even, the king may show some small gesture of a warming heart to his wife.

And it was during that year I learned just how dreadfully cold Zealots could be to those they deemed less worthy of the joys they had been blessed with.

The Blackbird, the marvel of Guru Belthazar, was complete.

What a masterful work it was.

The sight of the great metal animal flying through the air like any other bird pulled the wind from our lungs in gasps of wonder.

It became the preferred way to travel to the Earthbound caves when they began to spout trouble, as they so often did. The Blackbird was much more efficient than a caravan to the skyways and it had the grandeur of a air throne for a king.

Mother, the new queen, was well into her pregnancy that morning, with the midwives whispering to each other about how she must be within labor lest the child attempt to crawl free without her permission.

Father was needed at the Earthbound colonies again. For what purpose, my young self was never told. Mother protested, as she often had to with him, but he assured her he would be gone for the day and return on the morning sunrise. His hand squeezed my shoulder as he placed a kiss on my brow, and walked past Mother.

"Be safe, Father!" I called out.

But to my side, Mother had...begun to cry.

"Mother?" I hastily took her trembling wrist and placed the back of one of my hands onto her forehead, as I had seen the midwives do over and over again. "Are you alright? What can I do?"

Her face was pinched red in pain, trying to stop the flow of water tracking down the corners of her eyes. All she managed was an adamant shake of her head.

"I'll get the midwife! Do not worry, Mother, she will get something for you," I promised, squeezing her wrist like I had seen the nurses do, and I started to run across the room to the doorway.

"Schala?"

It was croaked in such a way that I almost assumed it was a cry of pain. But when I turned to see what sort of help I could be, Mother was resting her eyes on mine. So distant and damp they were just an extension of the ocean far below.

"You are a wonderful girl."

...

I was a wonderful girl...

From what I know of this story, I can only say from what Captain Dalton would repeatedly proclaim about the day when "goaded" into telling his greatest tales of bravery.

As the Blackbird dipped below our haven above the clouds, one of winter's great blizzards seemed to have arrived much earlier than any of the scholars had predicted in the winds. The Blackbird, of course, was practically the stead of a deity, built for the harsh ways the snow and ice would berate its dark wings. Still, the young captain had warned the king that perhaps this vessel, that was but a virgin to even the slightest chill of a late summer drizzle, should be brought back to Zeal and they should sue the skyways instead.

According to him, the king had scoffed at the thought and told him they would press on and beat the storm to the ground.

Dalton, of course obedient, new it could be his tongue to argue, so he returned to the bridge. And no sooner had he gripped the armrests of the air throne that a squall attacked the right wing.

The Blackbird spun through the air, trying to right her course while Dalton barked orders to a crew that could not get out to the wings to defrost them.

It was to no avail.

The Blackbird, oh how majestic it must have been, crashed into the Earthbound Continent.

Dalton was bloodied in the face, broken in the leg, and blind in one eye, managed to survive. But when he found the king...

Guru Melchior had tried to escort me from the room at this part of the tale. But Captain Dalton wasn't known for his lack of long winded stories, so I heard enough versions of i in my older years to know.

Father had died in impact. Thrown from his chambers and onto a beam that had pierced his heart.

I, in Zeal, had somewhat noticed the blustery nature of the day as my hair refused to stay from me face. The nurses had gone through and closed all of the window in the hall outside Mother's room, her wails now beginning to distress the curious Nus in the courtyard below.

The dark wind still seemed to screech into my chest, clawing at the sides of my heart. All I could do was shiver and explain to Guru Melchior that I did not know why I was shaking so.

No doubt he assumed it had to do with the queen's distressed cries. Though even as they subsided to shaking gasps, I still had to hold myself still.

Even as the chattering of the midwives percolated through the doors, something was amiss in the air. Something that felt of death.

The black winds howled through the night. As the crew died to the wintery storms on the Earthbound Continents. And their king lay dead, being slowly buried by the ice and snow.

After that day, Mother was not quite the same.

Father, no, I did not think he had any true love for her, but his moments of compassion and care had come to be all Mother longed for. As she carried his child, she had asked me to come to her side at night and pray with her for my future sibling, that they might be what brought the king and his new queen closer so they could be wonderful rulers of our land.

Instead, the child only served to mark the day Father had passed. And Mother, the new queen of Zeal, was of no important enough background to have been trained as a future ruler. So she was left alone with her dead husband's daughter, her new son, and a court that whispered in front of her about the poor choice she was of a queen. Her union to Father had spelled his doom, and even her child was some sort of arbiter of their king's death. And it seemed that even as we doted on my new brother, Mother's eyes were always clouded with those black winds and of the cold continent where the king had died in vain.

The Earthbound Ones, how uncivil they were, after all. Cave dwellers and bloody hunters who had been without magic for centuries, no, millennia. They were not so desirable that one might even look at them.

Yet, as I grew, and Guru Melchior talked of them from his visits to the mines and the beast traps, I began to take an interest in them. How despite the cold, they seemed to hold their children close and their spouses as royalty. The land was their treasure, their caves their palaces. Even if they were cold and even if they were hungry, they looked at the Kingdom of Zeal and thought of their own fortune, not of distain for ours.

The Enlightened One's hearts froze over in their paradise, and the Earthbound One's hearts swelled with love and devotion in their bitter wasteland.

So it was greatly to my surprise when I awoke to the flicker lick of warmth against my cheeks.

I had expected the oceans to be far colder than this...but it was almost warm. Soft and heavy, like a large cat's paw holding me to the rough ground.

...Ground.

My eyes, somehow able to move with the crust of salt still across them, slowly slipped open to the orange light.

It was a small...hut, I believe is the word. A small hut built from taught beast skins sewn around roughly chopped pieces from mismatched trees. There was no corner of the room to speak of, as it was roughly circular, but in one of the misshapen edges was a fire. It was burning the most strangely cut pieces of wood I had seem, some curved like furniture, some jagged like a broken branch, but was surrounded by a careful arrangement of stone, as if the fire itself had been constructed hastily but someone had come back to make it pretty for a permanent campsite. A black pot was tucked next to the rocks, perhaps for warmth or perhaps to cook the yellow grain inside. Overhead was what I thought to be two bushels of herbs, and next to me, tucking me away from the rest of the hut, was a tall pile of straw.

Some sort of storage hut, perhaps? Though there was not much to store...

It was obvious some kind of Earthbound hut, though I had never heard of such a thing. It was too harsh on their continents to have such settlements outside of their caves, and even then the caves would often erode to the winds or be collapsed by snowdrifts!

It was peaceful. Peaceful and serene, and the fur over me from some Earthbound hunter was so warmed by the fire that I felt my eyes longing to close again.

But why was I here? Did Mother know? Had there been an accident while I was in the caves?!

No, I had to return to Zeal! I had to tell Janus that I was alright!

I scrambled to my bare feet and practically fell to where my slippers had been perched against the little black pot. I mumbled a quick thanks to whoever had thought to drape my scarf over one of the hanging bushels and twirled it into my hands, lacing it through my hopelessly tangled hair so it looked a bit more polished. It was matted with salt, not unlike every other part of my body, but at least it might looked like I had some dignity after whatever event had brought me here.

Somewhat assembled for the wrinkled, smelly mess that I was, I straightened my back, squaring my shoulders to the skin rag covering the door, and walked outside.

So it was then I noticed that it was...quiet. Only the flicker of the fire was tickling my ears. No shrill pounding of the wind, no gusts howling against the aching ocean.

I let the rug slip from my hands and started to walk towards some sort of crowd of Earthbound I saw clustered in the trees. Even though the snow crunched under my slippered feet, it really felt more as if I had stepped into a poor winter in Zeal rather than the most pleasant day I had felt on an Earthbound Continent. And perhaps my eyes had just yet to remove the salt from themselves completely, but I swore I saw the orange and blue robes of the Enlightened Ones meandering with the Earthbound in the forest--

"Princess Schala! You're awake!"

The elder, for all his age, was somehow dashing towards me, his cane sinking and sliding through the wet snow.

I blinked in surprise as the look of sheer joy on his face. "Elder? What has happened here? Did a skyway malfunction, or--?"

The Ocean Palace!

The Ocean Palace had crumbled beneath the waves, yes!

And suddenly my own face was lightened with a smile. I ran to close the distance between us, crying, "Elder, there were survivors! Oh, it was terrible, the palace is in ruins, I did not imagine I could escape, but I did!"

I nearly collapsed in front of him, my tired legs only managing to get a few strides from the hut before I was staggering rather than walking.

"Where is Mother? And the Prophet? And the council, are they still here? Or did they get to a skyway somewhere else?"

The elder seemed to freeze in is place as I looked down at him with such an eager expression I may have looked just a touch crazed.

He did not return my exuberance...

"My lady, you are of only three we have found who have survived the Ocean Palace disaster."

"...I am sorry, I am quite clogged with saltwater from the escape." My smile was rooted into place as my eyes flickered to a woman in an orange robe catching with a man in a loose brown tunic. "Are they her to see to my recovery? I am not so delicate, as you can see."

"Your Highness, the others who escaped were two young women who bore no resemblance to the Enlightened or Earthbound. There has been no sign of...any of the Ocean Palace crew surviving.

"...No, no, you must be-- Then where is Mother? Why are these people here?" I asked, now staring at the scene of dozens of Earthbound and Enlightened Ones meandering together as colleagues could.

The Eldeer steadied himself on his cane. I felt his eyes on me, but perhaps if I didn't see him speak, I only imagined the words that he said. "They are not from the Ocean Palace. They are the survivors of Zeal."

No. No, I was imagining. The waves had done quite a bit of work on me, clearly.

"A few days ago, beams of light starting from the Ocean Palace began to attack the floating islands. They broke into pieces and fell from the sky."

No! Surely not, Zeal was a land of magic, how could it fall?

"A great tidal wave fell across the continents. Only this island and one to the far north were spared because they were bred from mountains. Higher ground, you understand. A few of us happened to be on the sea or in the hills when it happened and we were spared, and a few of the Enlightened Ones either found themselves surviving by miracles or used their magic to land somewhere unharmed."

"So there are survivors," I still maintained.

"Only the few dozen here. There may be more land that survived, but we have yet to start any searches. As it is, our greatest engineers were all in the Ocean Palace. And only the two girls seemed to be able to flee. Some sort of green Mystic who seemed to be in their party appeared shortly after, so perhaps, including you, that would be four survivors."

"...Where is Mother?" I croaked out, now looking at the Elder. "Please. This I must know."

He bowed his head. "I am sorry, Lady Schala. No one has seen her. You seem to be the only member of the royal court and the high nobles to have survived."

The ground should have shaken at such a thing.

It should have rumbled and screamed and swallowed me whole for the feelings that wracked through my body.

But all I could do was stagger back, trying not to feel faint as images of the Great Council, the Prophet, Mother...they all filled my head with their disappointed eyes and bitter frowns.

I couldn't save any of them.

I had saved my own, worthless, wretched life instead of allowing more important people to live!

I had killed them all instead of using my magic to let them to live!

"Lady Schala, we do happen to know that the Blackbird survived, and, ugh, Captain Dalton did somehow manage to bribe luck into letting him live--"

"No, no, no, no, no, you must stop such awful jokes!" I cupped my hands over my mouth. "I am sorry, I should not have said such a thing. I should not be here. I should be at the bottom of the ocean with the other condemned souls! How could I have killed them? I had the magic to save one of them. I killed the Prophet so I could live, how could I have been such a wretched girl--?!"

"Perhaps they had managed to get back to Zeal before the collapse of the Ocean Palace," I heard the Elder interject as my vision swam with snow and ocean and flashing red lights from around the Mammon Machine. "We think the Palace of Zeal likely crashed just beyond the North Cape, though it would be at the bottom of the sea now. But if you wish to check for survivors along the shore, you are free to join one of the search parties later."

My hands shakily pulled themselves away from my mouth, rimmed with tears I hadn't even felt. "Where is this North Cape?"

The Elder seemed to breathe a slight sigh. He picked up the tip of his cane and pointed it past the mountains over the small village. "North by northwest of the farthest mountain, atop the Zealous Cliffs as we're calling them. It's quite the journey, but we'll get you equipped with some nice warm clothes and put some warm food in your belly then get you set up with a search party."

I numbly shook my head, repeating "north by northwest of the farthest mountain" over and over with silent lips like a mantra. "Th-that will not be necessary. Thank you, Elder, thank you so much."

"What?" He nearly snapped his back in two as my poor, dead legs ran to the mountains. If I went along the coast, it would take me no time at all the pass by them! "Lady Schala, you are not--! You will freeze to death by nightfall!"

I was already past the strip of dead trees, over the short rocky jump to the black beaches, and was running across the snow-covered sands.

********

I was drowning miles above the ocean.

Naturally, I was. What else would my luck choose for this afternoon?

Bitter, frog-slime water bubbled from my mouth. I was vaguely aware of my hand grabbing at my throat as I swallowed a breath and called forth lightning to my side, the words to cast it hardly sounded like more than vague blubbering.

A weak spark barely leapt past my fingers.

My mouth twisted into a scowl and demanded it to my side, nearly biting the gel-like liquid with my words.

Light hissed under my glove, like it had the right to scold me, but ripped into the room, cracking the air into splintered webs.

Ah. So at least she dubbed such a prisoner worthy of a more intricate prison.

My feet couldn't quite reach the bottom of the pod, but no matter. I shoved myself to the back of the tube, trying to find purchase on the cracked glass, and began to strike at the sides with the heel of my boot.

The little air stuffed into my lungs burned for escape at each kick. They began to drag me to the bottom of the pod, thinking that drowning was somehow a good addition to this situation.

I smashed my boot halfway through the glass, then again, sending gel-covered shrapnel into the void beyond with I could see. But it did land, it skidded across some sort of floor and severed what must have been a pipe for the shrill whistling sound that followed.

The tube began to spill its contents onto the cooling vents, letting me float in the air by my own accord as I thrust my shoulder through the feeble shell.

I burst from the suspension pod in a shower of glass, already fit to rip the vents from the floor and drive them into the pod. As it was, I had to make peace with grabbing the console and doubling over to retch the horrid liquid from my innards.

Yes, this was going well.

And that was when someone began to slowly clap.

It echoed across the arched room, seemingly trying to tempt me into looking a fool throwing my neck every which way to find the source.

I waited patiently for the voice I knew would follow.

"Bravo, Prophet."

Yellow hands made of stretched skin and cracked, rotting nails clenched around my arms as some sort of clawed foot kicked out the back of my knees. I snapped a growl at the guards, summoning fire to my hands, but it fizzled into harmless sparks within a moment.

The guards yanked my knees into the metal floor, earning a grunting cry from my still somewhat battered body. "You," I sucked in a sharp breath and slowly let it out, "will suffer for this."

"Will I?"

The Queen of Zeal, the ruler of the greatest nation known to history, now floated before me.

As nothing but a silver mask and a set of hands.

There were no features that matched her human body, her nose was too thin, her mouth was too small, her eyes, sharp and green with life that matched her progeny, were now too round, tainted red and silver like they had been sanded down past their skin. Perhaps the gold feathering was supposed to remind one of her hair around her crown, but it was an unholy mockery of any human form she had possessed. Like someone had tried to take her body and stretch it into a robotic suit but had run out of material and so left her in a state to only float as a head above her throne, hands locked around the armrests to ensure she didn't simply aimlessly meander through the room.

A sickening horror slowly trickled down my back like the gel residue, watching this abomination with the slightest hit of recognition from distant memories of life before Lavos, knowing that this thing was supposed to be the someone I considered a loving person.

All that was left was the facade and the actions around it.

How pitiful a woman Queen Zeal was.

My disgust was almost enough for me to admit that it was a fitting demise.

But after so long a moment, as if she had been this was for all her life, the mask and hands began to glow with an unnatural light. Then congealed on the throne, mixing together in a sickly puddle of metal and flesh and silk until the Queen Zeal of my memories was sitting on her throne.

"Tell me, Prophet. Or is that just another deception?" She sighed, sadly letting her still bronze and silver eyes trail down her captive while they slowly returned to their normal color. "You think I would allow such insolence from someone whom I gifted this much?"

"The gift of your prison has been without compare," I slowly agreed. "I shall remember never to impose on such hospitality again."

Zeal turned up her nose just enough that I was supposed to feel less than her. I assumed. "I let you have everything. The best clothes, the best food, the best land for which any of the Earthbound would cry just to touch. And you act so selfishly as to try and take the life of Lavos, the one who granted me those gifts on your behalf."

"..."

"Now, I finally see the man from underneath the hood. And he is nothing but a prisoner to the god that granted us everything."

A god? If Lavos was another more than the dirt he consumed, he would only be a shriveling demon.

"Yet that in and of itself confuses me, Prophet," she continued, cracking her fingers against the throne. "Somehow, you have managed to retain your ghastly mortal self, despite the power of Lavos about us. Lavos is merciful and transformed even the Earthbound filth that had been working in the lower levels, all the way through my ranks until I myself was made whole through his will! ...Yet you remain somewhat human. Red-eyed and pointed-eared as you are."

Something warm and putrid swirled in the base of my stomach as I realized what sort of creatures were acting as my jailers. The fleshy yellow hands suddenly became akin to touching a decaying corpse. "..."

"That leads me to two conclusions for this incompetence," she announced, drawing my attention back to herself, "you are already some sort of follower of Lavos, perhaps a rogue child of his, but he would not deem one so pitiful as yourself to be with him. And certainly not for you to betray him. So must instead be someone of powerful magic. It is interesting that you never did address what sort of power you might possess... Perhaps you are a usurper? Or kidnapped by the Earthbound, indoctrinated by their primitive minds? Though even you somehow managed to have a cleaner cut to your garb than theirs... But, all the same. You will tell me who you are and how you repel the power of Lavos."

"..."

Queen Zeal narrowed her eyes, but lounged in her throne as if bored by my disinterest in this conversation. "If you are dreaming of escape instead of listening to your queen, I am sorry to bear the unfortunate news that you will be here for quite some time."

One of her gold-clad arms drifted into the air, summoning something forth from the darkness. A metal hiss echoed through the air as a flash of silver spun from its hiding place and into her hand.

My scowl deepened just a touch as the queen held Moonfell in her grasp, gently stroking her thumb against its shaft as if she had been the one to carry it to battle.

"Ironic for a prophet to carry a scythe unless he wanted to instead become a Fate," she mused, watching my gaze trailing down the polished hook of the blade.

Of course they would have taken it. Not that I had any interest in losing my cloak as well, but naturally I had noticed that was missing and would have preferred that to have been all that was taken. As much...ugh, must I saw "sentiment"? was in that cloak, Moonfell would be a bit more difficult to replace once I escape.

After all, why else would I be so complacent with such disgusting guards and their ghoulish queen if not to simply take the time to look through the room?

Unfortunately, the throne room seemed to possess little in the ways of clues. Besides the great, black chair, there was little to see. The window behind it, though grand and unnecessary, was not at a suitable angle for me to see more than an afternoon sky. I knew of my pod just behind the guards, but what else was behind them, I could not see for how their nails slashed at my face when I tried to glance past them.

"Ah!" She held a single finger to the air like scolding a child. "We have not finished this discussion. And I'm afraid the council will not be able to aid you at the moment."

The council?

Though I suppose it was possible there had been some sort of shuffling or mumbling hidden by the sound of guards slobbering in my ears, I had not sensed any sort of magic in the room other than the ever-present thrum of Lavos's dark power.

"They, unlike you, are a bit more understanding of their position. And don't break my technology out of rage." She snorted. "I think you should have appreciate me healing you while you are my prisoner. I could have simply tossed you to the winds, but then I never would have been gifted such pleasant company.

So the council was also in these...healing pods?

No, that was far too simple.

"..."

Those claw fingers coiled around Moonfell. "You're very interesting to me, Prophet. The only one within my court to ever behave so..." Her brows pinched together as her eyes narrowed. "Obstinate."

Such a way with words.

It did almost amuse me, so I granted her a few words to satiate the hungry glow in her eyes. "And I'm sure such skill will grant me a medal. Unless you haven't given them all to that cheap tin soldier, Dalton."

One of her fingers cracked. "Captain Dalton is a traitor. He fled from my side because he feared Lavos. So I would not strive to remind me of him when I have an even more abhorrent man before me."

Ah, Dalton is not aboard the Black Omen.

Fortunate for my ears, I suppose.

Queen Zeal managed to show just the slightest amount of restraint and breathed some ease back into her shoulders. My, Dalton must truly have been her favorite. "Prophet. you are trying my patience. Now, I simply request you tell me who you are so I may understand just how much punishment I must incur for your crimes against me, against Lavos, and against my daughter."

...?

"The princess?" I asked before I could stop myself. "Surely you must mean your battery."

Her mouth opened is a silent gasp. "How dare you?? Schala is more precious to me than any of the prophesies you claim to have given me! The last I saw of her was the Ocean Palace, where you were running amok! She would have come to me if something had not stopped her, she is a loyal girl. So what did you do with my daughter?"

I tried not to so obviously gape at her in return. The cold comfort of the shadows began to seep back into my chest, hardening around my heart as memories of her cruel laughter before the bitter emptiness of the gate had swallowed Janus into another age. "Such ironic behavior from you, Queen of Zeal. Do I not recall you telling me of how you banished your own son for daring to be in the same room as Lavos?"

That twitching brow of hers pinched even tighter. "The incident of the gurus and Prince Janus was an unfortunate occurrence, but Lavos deemed them unfit to stay by is side."

"Yes, a boy hardly past his first decade is quite the threat to such a creature," I somberly decided, getting a touch of amusement from how easily I slipped back into the steady cadence of the Prophet's voice. But no thought of brevity touched my lips, which I nearly drew blood from biting them into their unbothered expression. "You threw a boy to a monster and have no interest in finding him. Yet you interrogate me for your daughter when I have never claimed to have seen her past my encounter with Lavos."

"You are the one who claims to see the future. If you should care so much, tell me what happened to him so you can be at peace that his mother knows."

"My words would fall on deaf ears," I warned her. "As it is, I do not think you worthy to know what happened to such a life."

The slightest touch of a smirk crossed her face. "I am not worthy? Could my son have sunk so low that it would be inappropriate for me to hear his fate? Then I suppose we have no business discussing him."

The Fiendlord should have been appalled at the implications, but Queen Zeal was a fool. The Prophet knew this, so I spoke as him. "Pardon if I question your interest in Princess Schala if you cast your other child to the winds."

"I am not some monster you imagine me to be," she spat. In her eyes was some sort of...sorrow. A poor attempt at an apology to the princess. "Schala is my daughter. She is the princess of Zeal! And I will not have my love for her questioned because of the fate of Janus!"

"He was your son," I hissed in return.

"So my business with him is not yours to wallow in! If Lavos wants him found, so be it, but now Schala is all that matters!" A huff filled the room as the queen held her face in her hands. "You understand nothing of the burden of being a mother to a child who so greatly disappointed Lavos. And I care not of his fate."

"Do you truly not know?" I challenged.

Queen Zeal held resolute, disdain piercing her nails into Moonfell. "No. I do not know where my son is."

That warm slug once again oozed its drippings into the base of my stomach.

Of course I had known. It was not as if I chose to deny this, and even if she had realized...

Well, after all, Mother had died years ago. Even should Schala not make peace with that, it was my duty to recognize the atrocity that stood before the world would be nothing more than the sacrificial queen of a chess board.

The Prophet spoke: "What a pity."

"And you distract me for what purpose?" she continued. "Tell me of Schala."

"If you cannot trust a boy I will not trust you with any information on the young woman, even if I should know."

The image of her human form seemed to flicker, joints unnaturally growing and splitting until she caught her and melded back together. "What purpose do you have to tormenting a worried mother?"

"I torment those who I see fit," I easily supplied.

"...Who are you 'Prophet'?"

"Not anyone you would have known before we met as we are now."

"Where do you hail from?"

"A place that would mean little to you."

"What is your name?!" she growled, skin quickly turning silver.

I coolly answered, "If you do not know who I am nor where I came from, I do not see how knowing my name is important in this conversation as it is nothing but the words to define a man whose person you know nothing about."

"Such insolence will not be tolerated in my presence! You will answer!"

Her chest tore to three pieces, splintering into bone-riddled chunks of flesh. Her dismantled torso and legs collapsed into each other, sharpening into her hands. Skin slothed off her face as the silver mask ripped through her features, until her bone and silver eyes stared into what little part of a soul I might have had left.

"Who are you?!"

She really must pick which question she wants me to answer. It's very confusing. "..."

"...Selectively talkative prisoners are of no use to me." One of the hands shot towards the fleshy yellow guards. "Take him to the dungeons!"

The goons hoisted my shoulders into the air, nearly ripping my spine in two as I tried to tear at their nails with my gloves.

"Remove your filthy hands from me!" One yanked my body toward it and roared, its putrid, arm-length teeth rattling in front of my face. If it wasn't for the ache in my hands as I tried to call for my magic, I would have happily cursed it. "I will bury you in the ice where you belong and you will choke on your own blood before the cold takes you."

Queen Zeal called out as the Lavos mutants sprouted their leather wings and dragged my ankles across the ground while I tried to find purchase in the metal. "See that he feels more inclined to talk when next I summon for him."

The door to the throne room slammed shut, leaving nothing but the goons' slobbering chortles to hide the sound of whimpering shards of ice clinking to the floor from my fingers.

********

It was gone.

The vast alabaster done rimmed with gold and royal orange, indigo windows winking in sunrises.

It was gone.

The glassy sea belonging to the North Cape was lapping at that pointed cliff. The one raised to the clouded skies as if the few rays of sunlight on the ocean might take the girl standing atop it. The few comforting rays of warmth that slipped through those lonely clouds fell across the ocean in a long carpet to the horizon. A road only the dead could follow...

My eyes were as the puffy gray skies, damp and cold from the wind that tugged at my robes as if trying to make me fly. For who belonged beyond the sea in the realm of the dead more than the girl who cheated death?

I wrapped my arms, frozen as they might be, around the aching hole in my torso, hoping for any kind of warmth as the afternoon trickled past. The evenings would be as bitter as the noons used to be, at the very least, and I would surely freeze if I was out past twilight.

Yet even as the veins of ice creaked along my legs, I listened, falling to my knees as I watched the ocean. For anything that moved the quiet oceans with their gasping attempt at life. Even a bird overhead that may show it was safe to cross into the sea above. Something!

The shrieks of the black wind tore my hair into my ice-traced face, freezing tiny strands against my cheeks as my tears were marked by the cold. A coldness unlike any I had felt before clawed for my heart, what little of it I hadn't poured into the hours of watching that ocean. Waiting for Mother, or the North Cape to crumble for the disobedient princess of Zeal.

Until the sound of a sword was pulled from its scarab with metallic scratch.

My body stiffened, but slowly, oh so slowly, my head fell to the side to meekly look over my shoulder.

It was the women from the Ocean Palace! The one with the flowing white pants from under her red armor and the one with the helmet of glass eyes!

And with them, some sort of strange green Mystic in a foreign knight's garb.

He was the one with a sword aloft.

The women had their own sort of weaponry in hand, those I couldn't have told you what they were even had my eyes not just barely been able to see past my own nose.

"...It's gone."

The green Mystic tilted his sword to the side.

My eyes longed across the ocean once more. "Behold. All of it rests at the bottom of the sea. Gone is the magical kingdom of Zeal. All the dreams, her ambitions...my people."

"...Princess Schala?"

My knees sank further into the snow that had not yet been taken by the wind. "I lived only to serve Mother, even when Lavos began to show himself to be so... E-ever since Janus fell into his rift, all I had was Mother. The Gurus were gone, the council was hers, the Prophet goaded her to seek him even more, and I was the only one who seemed so badly to fear him. I began to question how she could possibly wrong, to stay loyal to him when all that was left in his wake was lose and pain. How could she stand for this if it was not what we needed to do for our people? But then you came to interfere. You and...Crono."

I swallowed something in my throat that must have been tears. How much more had I to give...? Could I say? No, I do not believe I could know...

"The Prophet promised her this was what we should do. He was an oracle of no small power, and everything else he said was true in the end. Yet even he was not prepared for the horror we ensued... The power of Lavos is so powerful as to defy a man who knew the future! And instead of letting himself free to redeem his mistakes, he told me to flee. So I left him to die and now Mother has disappeared to Lavos, and Crono is dead because I could not stop myself from listening to her!" I spun around with such violence that I had to catch myself on my hands and knees before I fell into the snow.

The girls and the mystic jumped back, one of them crying out in surprise as I clenched my hands through the snow into the grass, feeling the magic in my palms burning with my tears.

"Before Lavos, we are all as leaves cast to the bitter winds that howl about Death's black wings. And I, for staying my course, I brought Crono to this fate. My Mother, my kingdom, Janus... I didn't even know Crono and I am the reason he is dead!" I cried.

My words echoed against the cape and fell into the sea.

A light pair of boots pressed against the snow, slowly coming to me with the shrill of a sword in the breeze.

I didn't dare look up. Who was I to even think I could? A man whom had no business being there, who was from beyond a time gate and before or beyond my kingdom, was being grieved for my inadequacy. My stupidity, my cowardice! "Oh, how the brave go quickly to their graves and leave the likes of me to suffer their loss!"

"Stay your tongue, my lady."

I hugged my arms around my chest, letting my hair fall over my face. "I understand. It is only just that you should ask for my life in revenge for Crono's. It will be a mercy to his name... Do you wish to fight me?"

I looked at the knight-like Mystic. His throat seemed to burble in surprise as he met my expression with his wide, yellow eyes. The broadsword in his hand raised to his side...

And was slid back into its sheath.

My mouth gaped up at him. "W-wh--?"

One of his armored knees sank into the snow in front of me. "Lady Schala, taking your life will not restore Crono his."

A gloved hand tucked around my own, nearly making my frozen fingers crackle when he squeezed it.

"We worried for you at the village. We shall leave you to stay her in peace, but please, if it is small enough for us to ask, take care to return?"

And so he stood to his full height, nodding his large head in a polite bow, then turned to the girls. They offered me their own tired smiles, their expressions tiredly resting on me, then followed their Mystic friend down the cliffs of the North Cape.

"..." My life would not...? "...Wait!"

Something had possessed me.

I pushed myself onto my frozen feet, shuffling through the grass before I could manage to properly walk.

The party had not even made it down the cape just yet, and all looked back at my cautious approach.

"I-I'll accompany you. If you'll have me..."

Some sort started croak echoed from the Mystic's throat. "Lady Schala, do not feel as if we are demanding you return this instant. Take what time it is you need to grieve. We may stay at the bottom of the cliffs if you should prefer, but we do not ask you join us."

I watched my hands play the with the edges of my sleeves. "My people are gone, perhaps simply lost to the waves, and Crono is dead. ...But it is not to say his death could not be undone."

"What?!"

"Crono could be alive?!"

"Of what do you speak?!"

"Gaspar, the Guru of Time, may know the way to restore those streams of time that have been diverted from their proper courses!" I blurted, the words tumbling out before I could make sense of what they meant, "Where he might be, I do not know, Lavos opened a time rift that took him beyond our magical senses, but you are travelers of the ages! Surely there must be a way for him to be found."

The woman with the flowing white pants ran past the Mystic. The red stains in her eyes matched the ones along mine as she took my hands. "If we find the Guru of Time, Crono could be brought back to life?"

"I no not what his methods are, but I do believe it is possible," I explained.

The mittens around her hands made my ache. As much as the smile that pulled up her tired face. "Then we're going to find the Guru of Time!"

Following her hands to guide me to the rest of them, I felt...something. Beyond the abyss that usually kept me from feeling past my duties and the burdens they bared. Truly, I was not sure when I had last seen someone smile so genuinely at me than last I had seen Janus do so...

...Janus who was still alive.

And somewhere in time.

I straightened my posture and squared my shoulders, looking at the Mystic, the girl with the light hair, and the girl with the machines around her face. "Come. If we follow the coast, we can make the village within the evening."

They parted for me to lead the way, and so showed me down from the North Cape to the mountains above the surviving village.

********

Every glance out the window was libel to give me a headache...

Considering the grandeur of my kidnapping, I assumed the dungeon would be something more akin to the ones of Zeal. Usually little mud caves somewhere on Earthbound Continents that would freeze over in the winter, and melt into a landslide then freeze over in the summer.

Zeal was not a particularly fun place to be a prisoner unless you were born an ice fiend.

And given my current rank among them, I would have happily boasted my taste for the elements if the goons had dumped me in one of those pits.

But the cell I was brought to did actually appear to be some sort of unused storage room. The walls were bear save for a few unused shelves and a lone window in the wall immediately in front of your nose when you entered. Coincidentally there was no bed, so I assumed that if one was expecting to stay for quite some time, they should try to make due with the shelves. The window...was an odd choice.

At first glance.

If you glanced more than once you would find that the bitter icy ocean was replaced with the view of a familiar mountain range. Or perhaps it would have been familiar if it wasn't so quickly replaced by some blue-roofed cabin on a grassy plain.

...I attempted to make sense of it for a few minutes before deciding I had better things to do than contemplate my own sanity. In a palace filled with lunatics, I did not need to pretend I would join them.

Schala's amulet hung innocuously enough from my belt, as it had for the past two decades since that last day in her chambers.

It had dug a rivet into my gloves before I had noticed.

An empty scowl grew down my face as I tugged on the cuff of my gloves and went to the shelves. It only took a moment to remove enough that there was a fair enough place for me to sit down and begin de-tangling the silver chain.

Taking great care to keep that chain at least partially around my wrist at all times, I gently unwound it into my hand. The worn leather from where it had ripped and cut at my belt for years seemed to glare at me, warning me. The amulet had seen combat as often as I had, had been welded to my side as Ozzie's dog, had protected my mission throughout time.

The relic of Janus that had survived the Fiendlord himself.

And it would stay with me after this wretched place was no longer even a memory.

Yes, I'm quite dramatic. Put any complaints in Flea's suggestion box.

The chain was practically warm against my neck, the metal orbs clashing drastically with the Raven Armor, but if the Queen was a competent Warden, I'm sure I would be alleviated of that burden...

It was a peculiar sensation. I had no dared remove my armor in Zeal save for the few occasions where I deemed it safe enough to try and stay somewhat hygienic. My cloak had been more than enough to hide my more combat-influenced wardrobe underneath, but I did not put it past the snake of Dalton to try and catch me unawares for the queen's favor. Or one of the queen's more less trusting advisors I had usurped in my quick rise to power.

Ah, the urge to tell my younger self that the Prophet, the man who he trusted the least, was in fact his own future.

I pulled back my chestplate enough to expose the thick tunic underneath.

The amulet was no doubt supposed to be worn with something more grand, but I was not about to attempt hiding it in my boot. So I quickly tucked it under the blue fabric.

The protection magic within burned against my skin, as if trying to crack through my unnatural flesh. But the fiend magic that leeched away those few cosmetic touches of humanity I was very clearly without, it was not so powerful as Lavos's dark spells.

A few long breaths of patience, and eventually I was able to coax the amulet into believing that I was in fact Janus, and it settled back into its dormant state.

Though I was now painfully missing my ice magic, the amulet would at least be a bit less exposed.

It would not stand to a more thorough search, but should I have regained even a touch of magic by that time, it would be more than enough to disguise it from these guards.

Unsatisfied and struggling not to hold a hand to my chest in pain, I sealed myself back into the armor, breathing just a touch easier. Whether that pod had somehow prevented my magic from replenishing or Lavos had...done something a bit more dastardly to me in his attempt to deter me, I was still unable to conjure even the slightest of a light spell to try and investigate more of my cubicle.

...

My jaw clenched, testing just how tempered I may be before I cracked a tooth.

There was no sense in struggling against Zeal for the night. With Moonfell in her hands and my magic somewhere beyond reach, it occurred to me that the only reason I was in this room and not sacrificed to the Mammon Machine for Lavos to shred to pieces was the fact that she believed the Prophet capable of accomplishing what she most feared: someone that could resist Lavos. And desperately wanted to take advantage of that ability to slay him.

Yes, though disgusted by the taste of those words in the back of my throat, I had every opportunity to live if she had an inkling to still believe what I had to say.

So for now, I was safe.

It is much easier to exploit those with power over you if they do not realize they are at your mercy.

My legs struggled to rest beside my on the shelf.

Clearly it wasn't built for prisoner taller than a storage box, the nerve.

I reached for my cloak and attempted to drag it over myself. ...And instead rolled my back against the wall and attempted to find comfort in that instead.

Queen Zeal's mask hovered in front of my closed eyes for the hours that followed, hands summoning more goons to her side as she held Moonfell in her vulgar grasp.

My hand instinctively went to the touch of Schala's prayers within the amulet. A hollow gesture. One that I had yet to fully try to stop myself from doing on the occasion.

Schala was alive...

She was far from here, and she was alive.

Hunting for Janus where she would not find him.

That would be remedied.

Soon.

********

"Schala..."

Someone smacked a spoon against the side of a pot.

"Schala!"

A pair of feet shuffled against the dirt floor and settled by side.

"Schala, are you still sleeping?"

I shook my head and tucked the soft blanket up to my nose.

"Come on, sleepyhead, it's time to get up!" she cheered before bouncing back up to her feet and crossing to the other side of the tent.

Something drifted in the air, landing carefully against my nose. A bit like a porridge but with something fatty and rich mixed in as well.

Oh, it smelled lovely!

My poor stomach rumbled, trying to find the remains of...what was the last thing I ate?

It had to be before the Ocean Palace. And I knew I had been asleep for at least a day after the incident, and yesterday I had spent the day to and from the North Cape--

A pitiful whimper escaped my dry mouth as my stomach began to practically roll me over to at least face the smell. I was already sitting on my ankles, longingly holding the fur blanket over my shoulders, as one of the girls, ah...Marle. As she stood with her arms stretched at the fire.

She still had dark circles under her eyes.

I made no comment.

Likewise, she only smiled and ignored mine. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist Lucca's cooking!"

"Mm?" I ran a hand down my eye to try and get it to open on its own will. "Excuse me. I can be outside shortly, you do not need to stay if you do not want to."

"I just wanted to check if you were doing okay," she promised, looking at the little pot of grain. I thought she might have been considering using it as a seat, but instead she took my slippers from where I had propped them against the pot to dry and brought them to my side as I neatly settled the fur into place by the stack of hay. "Are you up to socializing? Or we can just let you eat in here, it's okay."

I pinched out a smile. "If it is all the same to you, Ms. Marle--"

"Just Marle is okay! Besides, you're, what, a couple of years older than me?"

"Um...I suppose? Forgive me, I never did ask your age or anything of that sort."

"It's fine, I think a loooot has kept us occupied," she nervously laughed, her eyes drifting away from me.

I watched her memories unfolding in her eyes for a moment, then grabbed my scarf from the bushel on the ceiling. "Not to trouble you, um, Marle, but would you like to go to the breakfast rations now?"

She blinked a few times and her eyes were smiling at mine again. "Of course! Lucca's cooking today, so we're already in for a treat! I'm fine with assembling a few small things, but she's more of the gruel master. I think even Frog is kind of impressed, and he's used to military mushes."

"That is reassuring...?"

We stepped out from behind the tent flap and the wind once again buffeting our clothes with barely a care for if we tried to stop it or not. A crowd had formed around the pot with the smallest attempt of a line trickling through it, waiting for a girl with flattened, purple hair to spoon what looked like a sloppy, gray...um, delicious-looking porridge into an assortment of bowls and cups.

My stomach growled again, much to Marle's giggling amusement.

I sheepishly held my arms against my robes. "Dear me, I forgot how nice hot food smells."

"It's okay," she laughed, copying my pose as she had yet to put on her armor the day. She had some sort of shawl, but I doubted one could feel warm with the thin pants and top I had grown accustomed to seeing her in. "Whenever we get into town, Crono would...he would drag us all to the markets and make sure we stuffed our bags with anything edible we could find. I actually started making PowerMeals (tm) so we wouldn't have to keep stopping into town, but he said he's just save it for a special occasion cuz I'd made something for him."

I my smile tried to stay in place as we approached the crowd outside one of the other tents. "...He seems like he was a good man to all of you."

"Yeah..." Marle shook her head, nearly slapping herself in the face with her ponytail. "So that's why we're going to get him back!"

My eyes turned down as we reached the backs of the survivors waiting for Lucca's...mush. "Might I ask you something when we have a more appropriate moment?"

"Huh?" She took her wide eyes away from the steam wafting from the pot. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, well..."

"I mean, other than everything with our lives," she rephrased, twirling her fingers together.

I pinched my lip between my teeth. "When we have found the Guru of Time, could we maybe add someone else to our quest?"

"Who?"

"It is not someone who crashed with Zeal," I promised in hopes she would not think I simply meant to lead her to the bottom of the ocean for Mother. "...Y-you recall the Prince of Zeal?"

"I don't think I was with the group when Crono met him... But I'm sure Ayla and Robo do!"

"Oh, well," I cleared my throat, "you see, Lavos would often not...see fit to let those he deemed unworthy to partake in Mother's plans. And so the Gurus were cast through time to places we do not know..."

"And something happened to your brother like what happened to the Gurus?"

"..." I pulled my robes closer, wondering if perhaps there was a way to purchase that fur blanket from the tent. "Janus was deemed unwanted by Lavos. And he was lost to time with the Gurus..."

Marle bowed her head. "...I'm so sorry."

"..."

"What does he look like?" she asked. "Maybe we've seen him!"

"He was 10 years old," I started foremost. "His eyes are the same as mine and mother's, and his hair is the same as well, though his was about his shoulders. His skin was just the slightest touch darker than mine, he did not particularly enjoy being about the palace and spent most of his time with Afldador in the courtyards..." I coughed and shuffled forward with the line. "He also wore the purple robes of the heirs, though his were a bit more of a poncho than robes, and he also had a pair of purple pointed boots that he very much would love to never touch again. He was not exactly tall in stature, and could barely keep himself free of cat hair."

Marle pursed her lips and stared into the crowds for a moment. "..."

"...I suppose that would mean you have not," I sighed.

"We've seen a lot of kids in our time," she reminded me. "Maybe we've seen him and just didn't know it!"

"He never did care for many people," I admitted. "But perhaps...we can also search for him? After we rescue Crono, of course, I do not want to impose on your party at all--!"

"What? Of course we can look for him! He's your brother!" she declared. "We're going to make sure we all get our happy endings, that's the point of beating Lavos!"

My hands stiffened. As if Lavos would hear her and strike her down.

But no on else seemed to notice...

Rather, they noticed something else entirely.

"Momma, who's that?"

"That's Princess Schala."

"Princess Schala did survive!"

"We should say something to her."

"Like what?"

"Princess Schala survived..."

Marle quickly directed me through the line. "Any chance you have any clues to where he is?"

"...Perhaps. I do not know how he could have met Janus, but--"

"Marle, there you are!" Lucca adjusted her glasses, spoon menacing in hand like she might strike her friend. "I thought I was going to have to come in thee and wake you up myself!"

"I wanted to make sure Princess Schala was okay!" she retorted, still reaching out her hands to receive a cup of the gruel.

I bowed my head. "I apologize, Lucca, I did not mean to make sure late."

"I'm just messing around," Lucca reminded me, picking up what was likely a teacup before its handle snapped off. She scooped a healthy portion of gray porridge with brown chunks of some kind of meat into the painted teacup and handed it to Marle. "How'd you sleep?"

"Well, thank you," I replied automatically.

"That's great!" She picked up a large wooden bowl with a slash deep in it lip, threatening to split down the middle if you dropped it. "You can't fight Lavos when you'e walking in your sleep."

Fighting Lavos. What a thought.

Yet this was their quest, and if I was extending a hand to them, and Lavos had plans to not only destroy my kingdom but life as we understood it, then who was I to stand by and not oppose him.

Not that I should say it aloud.

And the idea of charging into battle against anything was still enough to make my stomach crawl.

But the thought of Mother smiling before his influence, how joyous and warm she had made Janus and I feel just as she simply entered a room, or had her arms over our shoulders as we watched the flowerbeds in the courtyards below the balcony railing...that restored my conviction in an instant.

The porridge was somehow both thickened clumps and watery broth at the same time. The meat was cooked to the point of being slightly charred. And it desperately needed salt. But even as my nose upturned at the thought of eating the poor animal, my hunger had swallowed back the entirety of the bowl by the time Marle and Lucca were halfway through.

"Do you need anymore?" Marle offered.

"Are you willing to cook this time?" Lucca mumbled into her repurposed beer stein.

"No, no, do not trouble yourself," I told her, waving my hands to deter such a thought. "It was delicious, I thank you for your culinary efforts."

A slight red flush crossed her face. "Oh. Heh, well, it was nothing!"

A flash of purple ran over our feet, followed by an Earthbound child laughing behind.

Marle and Lucca laughed as I pulled my feet onto our bench, before I joined in with some slight chuckles.

Janus might have been chasing his own cat if he were here. Finally in a place where he was not required to walk as if with a metal rod up his back and lead in his shoes...

I hope wherever he fell, he was allowed to feel happy on the occasion. Away from Zeal and away from being the child born for the king to die...

"It is so strange to see the Earthbound and the Enlightened meandering together in this world." I felt Marle and Lucca look at me as I watched the cat run up one of the bare trees, the child jumping up and down as if to coax them down. "...Do such differences still exist where you are from?"

Marle looked at Lucca. The latter coughed, setting her stein on the log we had claimed as a bench. "Well, we have the royalty and the nobles. And we also have the common people who just live their lives normally. So, kind of? But we don't have any distinctions like, one group lives in a floating paradise and one lives in a barren wasteland."

"...That sounds like it is very peaceful."

"Other than the fiends," Marle added.

"Who?"

"The Mystics?" Lucca suggested.

"Oh, yes! But what do you mean, there is peace excepting the fiends?"

"Well, in 600 A.D....which you probably don't have a referrence for, but it's about 400 years before our time. In 600 A.D., there was a huge far between the fiends and the humans, lots of people died, the forest in the south was completely destroyed just to make weapons to fight the fiends, human nobles were kidnapped and executed."

"Generally they just destroyed any kind of decency between the two groups," Lucca summarized. "And 400 years later, there's still animosity between us."

"We went to a Mystic village in our time and they literally made us beat people up before they'd let us by a tonic," Marle bemoaned, leaning back against her hands. "But they're also the only people in our time that can use magic, so maybe that's more similar to the Enlightened versus the Earthbound?"

"And it doesn't matter to much anyway since we absolutely trounced the Fiendlord!" Lucca declared.

My eyes widened. The Prophet? "Who do you speak of?"

"The leader of the Mystics. He started the war against the humans," Lucca explained.

Marle sat up and wiggled her fingers menacingly in the air. "The fiend who could only be defeated by the hero of legend wielding the Masamune! So we went and found the hero, found the Masamune, and we destroyed the place."

"...So this fiend lord was some sort of Mystic who sought to defeat humanity?" I surmised.

"Yep. Just goes to show how when you don't have any goal but to destroy things, you'll just destroy yourself," Lucca explained, sipping down the last of her porridge.

"You should have been there! Well, you might not have enjoyed being there, they almost died, like, a lot, and I wasn't there either, but I heard that--" Someone began to approach us. The short green Mystic, already in his battle garb. "Frog! We were just talking about the battle with Magus!"

My heart nearly stopped.

Magus. The Fiendlord Magus.

Was some sort of mad warlord from the future?

Of course it made sense that he would be from the future, no wonder his prophecies were astutely accurate!

But a monster that sought to kill humanity? For no reasonable end but his own pleasure at destroying them?

How could Janus have fallen in with such a being??

And if he had somehow been with a man, rather, a fiend with a resemblance to a human, who killed humans for sport, then who was to say he was even alive...?

No, no, no, I would not think of such things for now.

Magus had said Janus was alive. And from what Marle and Lucca said, they had never claimed the Fiendlord to be untrustworthy. And was an evil that told you the truth not one of the most terrifying forms of evil? Surely he had mean Janus was alive.

And I would find him. Seemingly, somewhere in 600 A.D.

...Whenever that was.

Frog, though a Mystic who was rather unreadable, seemed to squirm at the topic of conversation. "I see. And good morning to all of you, naturally."

"As to you. A fair morning it is. Did you require something, Frog?" I asked him, shifting to the side. "Please, sit. Marle and Lucca were just regaling me with a few tales of their own time."

The skin around his neck bulged. "Thank you for the gesture, Schala, but I am a bit tangled in my own nerves to enjoy in pleasantries."

Though I had many a question for the Mystic after the tale of the war against the Fiendlord, perhaps it was best to avoid the topic so I would not have to discuss what Magus had said to me in the Ocean Palace... Clearly there was some poor feelings towards him by the party, and I did not want to unsettle them until I knew what would be a good moment to divulge this information. Especially since Frog had reached for his sword at even the name...

"And if I may be so bold, I believe we should prepare for departure."

Marle and Lucca looked at each other. And slowly looked at me.

"He's probably not wrong. We've been out of contact with the others for a few days now, they'll probably start pestering the old man to go after us," Marle lightly chuckled. "...Will Crono still be able to get revived if we wait too long?"

"...I am not sure," I admitted. "So perhaps you are right. Let us be on our way."

"Are you sure?" Lucca exclaimed, standing up as I did. "I mean, do you have anything you need to get done while you're here?"

I looked from her, Marle, and Frog and to the Enlightened Ones and the Earthbound Ones. How they drifted between each other, talking and laughed together like there had never been a difference between them. No magic was in the Enlightened Ones, and no hate was in the Earthbound Ones. And so perhaps there was little that would keep them apart anymore. Tales of the future, where all humans were considered as one kind...that made me smile at the sight before me.

"No. I think the time of Zeal and its legacy has passed to the black winds," I shakily said. "Should they need me, I can return, yes?"

"Any time you want," Lucca promised.

"Then I am content to let those who are more capable to live in harmony do so. My convictions are elsewhere now." I turned back to the others. "So...I am ready to leave."

Frog nodded. "Your spirit is strong, Lady Schala."

I wrung my cold wrists again. "If only that were as true as your words seem to imply..."

"I think you may find my words truer than you believe," he gently explained. Then jutted his round chin to the tents beyond the forest. "Come. I wish to speak to the Nu before we begin our journey."

I had heard a Nu survived Zeal. and that was somehow the least surprising of the survivors I had yet to meet.

And he was selling weapons and armor.

I tried not to imagine how he had obtained it, as if it was from corpses I may be sick and if it was by it having washed to shore, I may have only been filled with needless hope that others had survived the Ocean Palace.

Lucca and Marle joined from in front of the meager racks of weaponry offered, and I was content to stay to the back, but the former Enlightened One watching the door was taking a few too many glances my way. I squirmed a bit, hoping he would not ask me of anything, least of all how I survived. Or if I knew if Mother had.

She would have no love in this place.

"Schala, perhaps you should join us," Frog called.

I looked up to wear he was standing before a selection of red armor similar to the set Marle and Lucca had been wearing at the North Cape.

I meekly slipped past the Nu to join the Mystic. "Pardon me, but I have never had experience with such equipment. The most I've ever used a weapon is when one of the guards let me hold his scythe for a moment when I was a few years younger."

"If you wish to challenge Lavos, or even, if the quest to save Crono, it is more than likely you will have to learn," Frog warned me. "But at the very least, you may wish to have some extra clothes with your possessions."

I reluctantly grinned. "I do suppose I would stand out a bit in a tattered royal's clothes."

"There seems to be some fine Aeonian Armor here," he explained, gesturing to the set in front of him. "And I would suggest some form of weapon as well. We know not if your magic was hampered as the other Enlightened Ones' was, so it would be wise to begin training with one."

"Yes, of course," I agreed. What small buzz of magic I had felt at the North Cape had not yet returned. I knew in my soul it could not actually be gone, but I could not do to discover I had lost my magic while the wound of losing so much still threatened my knees to collapse next to Frog. "What do you recommend?"

That strange croak in his throat returned as he seemed to contemplate the items Marle and Lucca were inspecting. "Well, I do not think you could rightly wield a robot arm."

The severed mechanical arm propped in the rack did not in fact seem to be made for a human's use. "No, I do not think that would work with my outfit."

He quashed a humoring snort. "I don't suppose you were trained in swordplay, as the nobles of our times are?"

"No, I do not recall all but the most particular of warriors even using such a weapon," I explained. "Swords are the weapon of choice in future times?"

"Well, they are the best," he seemed to joke, patting the one at his hip. "I recall staffs were the most prolific weapon I saw in your kingdom?"

I trailed my eyes across the stores. "Yes, though I do not..."

There was a headman's scythe tucked in the corner.

"How by Zeal did a headman's scythe get here?" I mused, stepping forward. It was a double-headed scythe of steel and gilded gold along the hilt.

"You know of scythe and not of swordplay?" he asked incredulously.

"The headmen were part of elite guard of the council," I explained, tentatively reaching my hand through the air to it as if a mysterious force kept me from touching it.

"Do you think you might learn how to use it?"

I looked up at the tip of the blades, easily half a head above me at its fully height. "...It may require some taller shoes..."

Frog crossed to my side and snatched the scythe into his glove. He tipped the hilt towards my hand. "You cannot purchase a weapon if you only gaze at it."

I swallowed, extending my hand to it. Frog let it slip from his own, and I did have to scramble just a touch to grab it. He tried to held me regain my balance, but somehow I hefted it above my head. "No, no, please, I have it."

The hilt did indeed seem to fit quite well. Or perhaps I was holding it all wrong...

I stepped back and took a few practice swings through the air. Frog was kind enough not to point out how many steps back he took while I did so.

A proud grin creeped onto my face as I was able to stick the tip and inch in the ground. "What do you think?"

He let out a breath. "...We all must start as green behind the ears. If you believe you will try to train with it, take it."

"I think I can get the hang of this," I exclaimed, hefting it over my shoulder with both hands. Looking at it now, I could only imagine how comically large it had appeared with my height and my grin all below it.

"Very well," he decided. "Sir Nu!"

The blue creature looked up from his morbidly drawn mouth. "You buy?"

"We will take the scythe and the set of armor here," Frog told him, then whispered to me, "Robo will fit the armor it to your liking."

"Ah." I chose not to ask which of his friends was Robo.

The Nu nodded, turning back to the high tonics and ethers Marle and Lucca were in the middle of exchanging gold for. "You buy."

Armor slipping off my shouldrs and scythe in hand (much to Frog's worry, there had not been a scythe sheath for sale) I marched from the tent and back into the snowy island.

And right before a crowd of the survivors.

I almost stumbled and dropped the helmet under my arm at the sight, the others stepping up to my side likewise stopping.

The village elder stepped forward, cane teetering in his hand to match the wavering in his smile. "We understand you will all be leaving us."

The wind blew harsher for a moment until Marle stepped forward. "Just for a little while. We'll definitely be back."

"We thank all of your for your generous hospitality," Lucca said, more grandly than seemed in character.

The elder nodded. "Good. Good, we need such warriors as yourself. Though perhaps with the current circumstances, we will manage."

"You will survive well beyond the tragedies you have faced," Frog agreed. "And you will one day know a life without the fear of Lavos."

The cast a bitter mumbling through the crowd.

But I stepped forward. "Do not fear for the lives that will lay before you. You are the survivors of such tragedy, and so you must remained convicted in your strength. The future is what you choose to be in it." My pendant rested heavily on my chest. "And please...choose not to be as Zeal was. Do not resent the kingdom, but remember how our greed made us fall..."

The Enlightened in the crowd bowed their heads, some of the Earthbound reaching to ease the pain in their hunched shoulders.

"Now please. Take care of this world," I implored them. "We will bring word of any survivors should we find them."

"You will always have a place here, Princess Schala," the elder assured me. "As will you, heroes."

Something pricked at the corner of my eyes.

Frog stepped forward as Lucca and Marle stepped in place as if I needed to hold on to something. Was I so obviously shaken? It would seem... "We thank you for your hospitality and kindness. We will be on our way."

The crowd parted, to a round of applause? They called our names as we passed by, as if our departure was some grand exit from the royal palace.

I mean, of course it would be appropriate for the heroes, but myself as well?

No, I reasoned, it would just be cheers for the heroes. For who was I but the fourth member they had picked up.

The purple flash interrupted my musing, settling in the side of my dampened eyes.

The little cat the child had been chasing had also come to bid us farewell.

I smiled down at the creature, not paying much mind to it, until it decisively meowed for my attention. Its eyes were almost arched in annoyance, daring my to pass it by. Just try it, see how you anger me, human.

I might have thought the butt of my scythe had smacked my stomach. "Alfador??"

"Mreow!" He stood on his four snow-caked legs and sauntered in front of me, just to sit down. "Mreow!"

The child who had been chasing him looked at me with awe. "Princess Schala, is this your cat?"

A lump settled in my throat.

Alfador had survived the fall of Zeal??

And Janus was somewhere alive in times flow??

"Y-yes." I cleared my throat. "He was the personal pet of Prince Janus."

The young boy's eyes opened even wider, almost bulging form his head. "He's a royal cat?"

Despite myself, I almost snorted. "Well, I suppose yes, he is."

The other three had paused to watch this scene. Alfador was still standing in my way.

I crouched as much as my new equipment would allow and asked the young man, "If I could be bold, might I take him with us?"

The boy shook his head up and down with such a smile on his face. "Of course, Princess! You need the royal cat if you're the princess!"

Alfador looked back at me as if to say, See? Now take me with you.

I looked at the three companions. "With your permission, may he join us?"

Marle looked at Frog. "Can he?"

"...I do not see anything wrong with the prospect."

"Only if he doesn't ruin the Epoch's seats!" Lucca interjected, giving Alfador a wary look.

He returned her glare with his own. No, mere human, I will not ruin your no doubt subpar upholstery.

"I will vouch for him," I promised, hoping whatever this Epoch was it would not be so tempting to him. I flipped over my helmet and offered it out to my brother's dear friend. "Come along, Aflador. Come along."

He padded forward in the snow, delicate sniffing the helmet, and hopped inside, yowling at the cold, but reluctantly curling inside of it. His intelligent gaze watched the world from inside the helmet's eyeholes.

My scythe's hilt pierced the ground as I pulled myself to my feet, striding to meet the other three. "Now, how shall we travel to find the Guru? if we have a ship, we may reach the gate you traveled through in a few weeks."

Marle and Lucca tilted their heads to each other, sharing some form of secret.

Lucca smirked. "We can do better than a time gate. Come on, we're parked at the edge of town."

The two of them sauntered away, the eyes of the village pushing them forward with a new spirit. Frog offered a different sort of look, one that rested on Alfador for a long moment, before he followed behind.

"...Come along, Alfador." I hefted the helmet a bit higher in my arm. "Janus is waiting for us to find him."

My dear brother's cat meowed in agreement as I fell into step behind the travelers, my stomaching rising to my throat as I left behind the only home I had ever known to find the one person left who may make it possible for me to build another one.

Notes:

This chapter turned out to be a lot more Schala-centric than I thought it would be. I'll try to have more for Magus in the future, but we'll see how the story goes.

Please comment if you enjoyed and got through this very long chapter.

Chapter 3: Beginning With Her Plans

Summary:

"What was that machine?"

The mono-eyed monster shrugged, its bone-thin shoulders nearly pinching their own head off. "That is not your business to know, Prophet."

I threw my gloved hand around their throat, shoving them against the wall. Their ever so snappable fingers tried to dig their body free.

The wings on their back beat uselessly as my voice practically dripped into their ears. "What. Was that. Machine?"

They coughed as their throat became tighter. "W-we know nothing of it, sir Prophet. Her Majesty wished for us to find out as we were coming to fetch you!"

Their choking gasps began to grate on my nerves, and I do suppose their answer was satisfactory enough. "...How pathetic you are, betraying your mistress." I tossed them to the ground by their peers, watching them skid across the ground to the few who had not raised their hands to call their Lavos-fed magic. "Now you may take me to Zeal."

********

Schala tries to become accustomed to the worlds the party have brought her to and meets some new (and some old) faces. Magus is given a brutal realization for just how far Queen Zeal will go.

Marle was the first one to speak. "What's that?"

Alfador looked up at the floating land, hissing at the shadow it cast against us.

The mountain had risen up from the sea before we had even been within range. It's black peaks puckered with round glass and swaths of fine metals, it hardly looked like any natural place. So similar to the Mountain of Woe that had hovered above the Earthbound Continent, yet not nearly as natural...

I clutched my upturned helmet to my chest, letting a finger down to stroke Alfador's soft, twitching ear. "Shhh, hush, Alfy, I am sure it will be just fine."

He morbidly mewwed back. "Mreow..."

The green one, Frog, leaned from his seat to get a better look over the shorter girl's shoulder. "Lucca, what is that?"

Lucca adjusted her glasses, as if that would bring the mountain into focus. Her mouth opened to say something as the red light in the...they had called it a "cockpit" in the Blackbird, as a red light in the cockpit flashed angrily like a siren beneath her fingers. "It's impossible."

A gust of air blasted into the small plane, pressing me into my seat and pining my shoulders down with vicious fangs, so cold that it nearly burned as I cried out.

"Schala?!"

I felt a distant hand shaking my shoulder as I slowly sank into myself, almost sliding off the seat as the wave of Lavos's power washed past me.

"I'm picking up interference from an enormous Gate!" Lucca called out, mashing her fingers wildly into the controls. "Could it be Lavos?"

"Schala, can you hear me?" Marle called out again.

Something bright and fresh radiated from her hand against my robe, letting air flow more freely into my mouth, but now with enough strength to do so, I reeled forward over my lap. If Alfador had not been within the helmet, I would have been sick in it.

Lavos was there...

And he wanted to find me...

"This is the place where the Ocean Palace rests beneath the waves," Frog realized. His yellow Mystic eyes widened as we felt the natural tug to bring ourselves close to the metal mountain. "Or does it merely rest?"

"It's like it's calling us," Marle breathed, trying to keep her hand on my shoulder from over her seat and simultaneously watch the palace floating before our eyes.

Lucca yanked at the controls, but what sharp jolts she forced our air-vessel to endure only managed to make Alfador yowl and my own exclamations to get more muddled with pain. "It feels like we're going to get sucked in there!"

"The Ocean Palace did not drown in the sea. By whatever curse, it yet functions," Frog nearly spat, hand resting on his blade.

Another alarm went off in the craft, earning a cry of spite from Lucca. "Look at the time-space monitor! It seems like something is happening in other ages too!"

"Lavos must have his hand in this as well."

Marle swallowed, now gripping my shoulder to try and support herself. "What is happening to our world...?"

Frog shifted in his seat, looking between all of us before reluctantly settling his gloves against his knees instead of his weapons. "Such a dark, black omen as it is, let us first see to it that he is not satisfied with Schala's pain. Lucca, can you break us from its pull if we travel to another time?"

"I don't know. ...But I can do better than 'another time.'"

I swallowed the taste of decay and metal as a switch loudly flicked under her finger.

"Hang on, we're going to give Epoch some juice!"

The Epoch gripped us all under the power of its wings. Magic flowed around us and the blue tinge of a time gate creeped along the edge of our eyes. The floor disappeared from under us, the horizon leapt to our nose, and the Epoch soared across my world in a flash of light.

********

Sirens whined from outside my meager dungeon like claws scratching on shale.

I nearly roared for Ozzie to stop messing about, until I felt the cold press of metal against my arm.

The alarm persisted as I gripped the edge of the shelf and began to debate whether this was worth my attention. Though even something minor that may distress the Black Omen did intrigue me.

So I rose to me feet, ignoring the tired ache in my eyes as something so habitual it was hardly worth mentioning.

The very floor seemed to vibrate, as if Lavos himself was displeased with whatever had caused this commotion. Outside my door was the distinct flap of wings and skittering of claws, soldiers shouting amongst each other as they tore through the Omen to find this disturbance.

Magic sparked against my hands as said door rose above me, trying to dissuade me from not taking advantage of this situation to cause a bit of mischief for myself. But I somehow doubted this measly attempt at a prison had been designed to resist strong enough magic. So I lifted my fingers to the frame, resting them just short of the metal, and let lightning rip into the machinery beneath.

The door fizzled and hissed, sparks sloathing from the seams, crying out in electric pains as I bore down my magic on it.

My lightning pierced through the door, blasting it from its hinges and shredding the opposite wall as it crashed against it.

The Omen shook again, trying to toss me off my feet before I hopped onto the air. "...!"

Out of my small window was some sort of flying creature.

A platinum creature with gold wings and fire for a tail.

I flew closer, tilting my head to watch as its shadow fell across the sea.

It was some sort of flying machine. Not unlike the Blackbird, but much smaller.

And if the sirens blaring in my ears indicated anything, it was not a machine I would recognize as one of Zeal's.

It was flying towards us, but twisting violently, trying to yank itself away from the Omen but was caught like it was a fish on a string.

The shouting outside persisted as the vessel continued toward us, the shouting turning from concern to something almost joyous as it seemed to stop resisting. Apparently none of them realized that despite how it was flying even faster, it had stopped trying to pull away.

Whoever was aboard was no longer resisting. But it was going so fast I nearly lost it despite watching it as intently as a hawk to a mouse. It was nearly ready to pass under the shadow of the Omen, blurring into a beam of white light that ran below us and then over the horizon behind it.

And the vessel disappeared before my eyes, leaving no trace of it behind as the streak of light fell to the waves with the sunrise.

"...!"

"What--?! What happened to the door?"

Ah, yes, I had been trying to find out what had happened. A shame I had to destroy the door when I could have just watched from my window after all.

The wings began to beat against the air down the hall, but there was no gain to fighting anyone at the moment, no matter how it tempted the restless magic in my hands. I tugged at the lip of my gloves and returned to the shelf, standing just shy of my back to the wall as I let the Lavos mutants work themselves into a frenzy over if their prisoner has maybe escaped in the chaos.

Just because Queen Zeal was an awful host does not me I must be an equally horrid guest. After I found Moonfell or an exit, that would change, but for now, it was much more to my interest to wait for the look of shock on the tiny pink monster's face as they flew up to the missing door.

"The Prophet has escaped!" Their squeaking voice stabbed at my ears as they took one glance inside the empty doorframe as began to wave their arms about wildly. "Sound the alarm...again!"

"Must you be so incompetent?" I drawled.

The one-eyed monster froze in the air and somehow turned around with their arms still held up as I stepped back onto the ground and stood in front of them. "Oh! ...Nevermind!"

I growled as sigh, startling their attention back to me. "So, I was so rudely awoken because of inklings belonging to a cyclops parasite."

"Flyclops!"

"..."

"Uh, that's what I am, Prophet," they explained, holding its hands above their head.

...Oh, I'm sorry, it was "intimidating" me.

It held their intimidating pose long enough that I grew bored and the rest of their squadron had formed behind them, some of them carrying magic in their hands.

The original one seemed to puff out their chest and announced, "Prophet, your presence is requested by her royal majesty. You will now come with us to continue questioning for your crimes."

I'm sure.

I held one of my hands against my waist. "I believe we must first address the other business this morning brings before we address someone so unimportant."

Of course the...flyclops would be more than happy to hear such words about their queen, so I quickly interjected their thoughts.

"What was that machine?"

The mono-eyed monster shrugged, its bone-thin shoulders nearly pinching their own head off. "That is not your business to know, Prophet."

"..."

I threw my gloved hand around their throat, shoving them against the wall. Their ever so snappable fingers tried to dig their body free as the other in their squadron came closer.

"No!" they choked, "No, I got this. Stay back."

The wings on their back beat uselessly as my voice practically dripped into their ears. "What. Was that. Machine?"

They coughed as their throat became tighter. "W-we know nothing of it, sir Prophet. Her Majesty wished for us to find out as we were coming to fetch you!"

Their choking gasps began to grate on my nerves, and I do suppose their answer was satisfactory enough. "...How pathetic you are, betraying your mistress." I tossed them to the ground by their peers, watching them skid across the ground to the few who had not raised their hands to call their Lavos-fed magic. "Now you may take me to Zeal."

********

The Ocean Palace was now a flying fortress.

Lavos had nearly pulled us straight towards him.

Mother was likely alive in the palace, and possibly Magus as well.

And I was unsure which of those was the reason my stomach was yet to settle by the time we had arrived.

"Here we are!" Lucca cheered, popping open the glass hatch.

A gentle stillness seemed to settle through the Epoch, flowing into our lips like a clear, crisp winter day. Yet at the same time, the air was pleasant, not warm, but not cool, and smelling of nothing I had ever known before. Damp and fresh, like rain spattering against the rooftops of my bedchamber in spring, but no matter how desperately I stared, I could see nothing by inky black in the sky, not above, not at the horizon where it met an expanse of water that flowed in waves like wind or fire. All that we could see in the void other than the ship we sat is was a platform of stone.

Lucca got up first, stretching out her joints as the calm melancholy of this quest settled into a sad smile. "Do you feel okay to walk?"

They all looked at me before I realized she was asking if I was okay.

"Oh, I am perfectly fine, thank you, Lucca." I clutched the helmet a bit tighter, feeling Alfador squirm a bit at my obvious lie.

"Want me to take the cat from you so you can climb up?" Marle offered, holding her hands over the back of her seat.

"...Climb?"

Frog croaked. "The platform is where we will meet our guide along time's road. We will have to jump."

"...Oh..."

I suppose it was not too terribly high. It was well above my head, but perhaps I could catch the lip of the stairs. Or I could use my magic to somehow fly? I had ever been good at such a thing, but I could try.

"I suggest you give the helmet and the cat to Marle. I can assist you the rest of the way," Frog interrupted.

Alfador looked up at me. You had better not drop me, Schala, or you'll have a hairball on your pillow.

I squeezed the rim of the helmet and held it up to Marle. "Please be careful with him..."

"Don't worry. Chrono's cats all love me!" she cheered. She cradled the helmet in her hands, offering a finger to Alfador, who look at it with distain. "It's alright. You'll be okay with me."

Something welled behind her eyes as she turned. He magic glowed through the air around her, pulling at her clothes and her ponytail, as she drifted into the air, hopping onto the stairs and disappearing to the platform.

Lucca watched at I brought my eyes back to the seat I was in. "Would you like me to take that...scythe with me?"

I bit back a sigh and smiled instead. "If you desire."

I pulled the scythe from behind my seat and offered it to her. Like Marle, she jumped through the air and perched on the stairs, watching as Frog stood on the wing and offered me his hand.

"My lady, by your call."

My stomach rolled as I stood. The ship stayed steady, despite how it was hovering powerless above the void-like ocean below.

Frog's hand clasped around mine, sparking magic over both of us. It was soft and cool, like a river over stone. I hardly noticed how high we were as he leapt into the air, dragging me with him with a shout of surprise that was stifled by the feeling of cobblestone smacking into my feet. Lucca grinned and set y scythe against the wall, somehow knowing it would not fall over into the ocean.

Light glistened against my hands from what looked like a courtyard made of cobblestone. Several figures milled about just behind the stairway, and I saw what might have been a door to a floating room and a garden gate to several pillars of blue light and stood just taller than a man. A slew of instruments I did not recognize drifted in melodies around us, like a lullaby but told during a storm.

"Are you alright, lady Schala?"

My heart was pounding through my chest, but otherwise I seemed unbothered, so I forced on a smile over my tumbling stomach. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Frog."

"Marle, Lucca, Frog!"

A blur of sunkissed skin and purple fur galloped over the cobblestone on all fours, then launched to their feet to tackle Marle and Lucca in a hug.

"Ayla worry evil lady hurt Ayla friends," the woman said, pushing herself back to arms length and looking at both of them for any damage. "You no hurt?"

"No, we're fine," Lucca groaned, rubbing at her shoulder where she had been shoved into Marle for the hug. "It's good to see you're doing okay here."

"Mreow."

The fur-clad woman, Ayla, looked at Alfador in the helmet, her nose twitching at something. "You bring small Chrono animal? Why? We no can eat?"

"No, you cannot eat Alfador!" I exclaimed, stumbling forward, tripping over my robes.

But a metal arm stretched out underneath me, somehow being gentle despite how the crook int he metal elbow poked at pinched at my skin. "Madam Schala? Why have you come with the others?"

I looked up to be greeted with a metal face that somehow manage to look gently at me despite having no lips to smile. My face must have been filled with enough wonder to make it feel uncomfortable, as it cocked its head to the side at my long silence.

"Oh, pardon me."

I stood, brushing my robes back into place and settling my arms in front of my stomach.

"Apologies. I do not mean to intrude. But I have come to aid in this quest."

"You come fight Lavos?" Ayla asked, jokingly punching her fist into her hand. "Ayla know you smart girl."

I smiled, even as it turned bitter. The black wind's memory echoed in my ears as I was forced to admit, "Yes. ...But that is not the only reason."

"...Where is Chrono?" the metal one asked.

It looked at Lucca. but she turned her head to Marle as she handed my helmet back to me, offering her shoulder as my stomach couldn't stay still. Marle's voice was hardly a whisper, even when she was so close to me. "Chrono isn't with us, Robo."

The lights in Robo's eyes dimmed and lit again. "I do not understand. Did he stay behind to assist in some other way?"

"He..." she swallowed. I..."

Lucca put her hand on Marle's back, rubbing soothing circles into her back. "We need to talk to the old man."

Ayla pulled her head back, glancing at a tall post with a light shining from the top.

Beneath the comforting laps of light was a gentleman in a dark coat with a round hat on his bent over head. He seemed to be as rigid as a beam, though it was the staff under his hands that was keeping him upright as his quiet snores filled the stone courtyard.

"Old man sleep more," she groaned. "We wake him up. He tell us where Chrono is!"

She stormed forward while the rest of us slowly followed behind at the speed of a funeral parade.

Ayla stood in front of the old man, leaning over to tap him on the shoulder until he startled awake.

Everyone else brought me to stand in a semicircle around him. For the sake of my stomach reeling from Lavos's call, I kept my head just high enough to see his feet.

"Ah! You have all returned," he tittered, his cane creaking on the ground as he woke. "Oh, where's that spritely young man?"

A chill touched all of us. Marle's smile staggered, her eyes filling as she tried to say something. Anything. But as everyone watched, her words refused to come out.

and the silence deafened us all.

The old man bowed his head. "I see. How terrible..." ...None of us said a word. "There is little I can for you," he gripped his cane even more tightly,"but let me honor him with a song. I'll call it...'Memories of Chrono.'"

The music in the air drifted away. In its place was a different one. One much simpler. Without the spark or fun of the one we had heard when we arrived. It was almost like it was singing of mourning, of the one who had not been here to complete the other's own songs.

Marle and Lucca kept their head bowed to the ground. The rest followed suit, lastly Ayla for the shock on her face having startled her from realizing what was happening,

Robo's body seemed to partially unfold, until he was nearly sitting on the ground. Frog kept his hands clenched at his sides as Marle began to sniffle and Lucca began to console her.

The old man kept his head lowered. "Were there anything more I could do, I would, but I fear I can be of little aid."

"I fear only the Guru of Time can help us now," I mumbled, meekly looking up at the wisened old one. "Please, keeper of this place, they say you can help us. Could you point us to him?"

His shoulders dropped, his cane nearly falling from his hands. "That face... Have I not seen you before?"

I startled, holding a hand to my chest as Alfador perked up from within my helment at the sudden jump. "I'm sorry?"

The old man's expression calmed from shock, to confusion, to a gentle smile. One so serene it felt as if it must have been the sort that was only shared with distant memories. "Ah, indeed... You've grown strong. Tainted of heart, to be sure, but fervent all the same."

My hand clutched around my pendent, feeling Marle having to struggle to hold me upright as something of recognition glowed from his milky eyes. "I do not understand."

The smallest his of a smile peaked out from under his mustache. He leaned against his heels as a more jovial tone tried to fight the morose voice that filled our ears. "The Guru of Time, you say? I know of him. But what business have you with the Guru of Time?"

Frog stepped forward, standing by my side. "We've heard he may know a way to restore life to our fallen friend. The truth of it I do not know."

"Ah, yes...to break death's hold over one you hold hearer still. You are not the first to wish such a thing, nor will you be the last." He deeply nodded, savoring the tender thought. "Chrono must be happy indeed, knowing such dear friends as you."

"And we need to Guru of Time to get Chrono back," Lucca blubbered, seemingly incredulous that the old man had stopped there.

"Please," Marle gasped. "We can't do this without him."

The old man said nothing.

Marle seemed ready to turn her tears to ice and throw them at him. "Just once, can't you give us a better answer! We need him! We need to save the world! I-- ...I can't do this without Chrono. Please..."

"..."

"...Fine! Then I'll find the Guru of Time on my own," she declared, pushing off my shoulder and staggering one foot after the other towards the gate.

She barely got a step within door.

"Hey!"

She turned, looking at the old man with silent tears streaming from her face as she spat, "What?"

He looked at all of us warily. Then pulled back the inner pocket of his coat and held something out to us. "Here. Take this with you."

Lucca shuffled forward, unsure of how to be reverent while unsure if this was a situation that called for it.

A round, oval-shaped object sat in both of her hands, a swirl of cream and copper laced with trails of black.

We all wondered what it could be, but Frog was the one to ask. "What is this? The egg of some beast?"

"That is the Chrono Trigger--a Time Egg. Should you wish to try and hatch it, the one who crafted your Wings of Time can tell you the way." Marle walked back to us, reaching for the egg as Lucca gingerly held it for her. "But know that it may not necessarily hatch the results which you desire. The Chrono Trigger represents potential. Results require action. As long as you keep Crono in your heart and pursue what you seek, the results should follow. But I can make no guarantees."

My breath drew itself from my lungs, taking the color of my face with it, yet leaving a warm buzz in my heart. "I see it now."

I pulled myself away from the crowd, even as Lucca came closer to help.

"It's you, isn't it?" I asked the old man before me.

The metallic one next to us buzzed. "I have arrived as a hypothesis. Sir, are you Gaspar, the Guru of Time?"

Light from the streetlamp cast a shadow against the old man's face, which deepened as he bowed his head. And laughed. "Yes, I believe that is what they used to call me. But that was long, long ago."

Marle gasped, now stumbling onto Lucca.

Frog croaked in surprise while the robotic one nearly blew steam from his joints and the skin-clad woman who shouted, "What you mean?!"

"Guru Gaspar," I breathed, feeling light in the head and in the heart. "Where are the other Gurus? Did they come with you?"

"I think your compatriots can point you to the Gurus. I am but a guide on time's road. And they keep their own lives now." He looked to the ground, as if mourning his own loss. If the Gurus to their foreign paths, or himself to this place, I was not sure.

And then he began to snore.

It took us all a moment to realize he had effectively left us alone among the music and his gravelly breathing. The time egg in Lucca's hand practically glowed in the lamplight.

"This can bring Chrono back?" Marle whispered, not quite daring to touch it.

"For a price," Lucca reminded her.

"And we can pay it!" Marle exclaimed. "We've already done so much! We won't stop, this is for Crono. We can get him back, Lucca!" The last of her tears dripped against the corner of her mouth as she began to smile. "We can get him back!"

"But do we know how to contact the one who created the Wings of Time?" Robo asked, his robotic drawl curious.

"Well..." Marle crossed her arms. "Maybe that Nu can help us figure that part out. He's still in the Nu, right?"

I did not understand anything she said.

"We go find old man in Nu," Ayla declared. "Get back Crono!"

"We'll get back Crono..." Marle parroted, gazing at the Chrono Trigger like it held all the hope for our world.

Frog spoke up. "Might I suggest Robo accompany you as it is to his time?"

"I would be happy to assist you," Robo agreed, joints hissing as he bowed towards the girls.

"That would be great," Lucca said, smiling up at the robot that towered over her.

She tipped the egg into Marle's hand, who slipped it into the pouch on her hip and secured it with vigor before putting her hands on her hips. "Okay. To Keeper's Dome!"

They all cheered, half of them pumping their fists in the air, the other barring their weapons.

I glanced between them and offered a meager pump of my own fist into the air.

They began to assemble their armor and their weapons, chatting in higher spirits and the most hope I had witnessed in many a year.

During this, Marle threw her arms around me, nearly tackling me! Her cheek was wet against mine. "Thank you... Thank you so, so, so, so, so, so much."

Before I could ask what great deed I had done to deserve thanks (I had only suggested we find the Guru), she was gone, joining Lucca and Robo.

The three party members made haste for the Epoch, stopping only to spoon water from some sort of urn by the garden gate. The others sent them off with resounding exuberance for the mood that had just gripped us all before the gift of the Chrono Trigger. But as they sent them off in the Epoch, and the ship disappeared into the void, their melancholy seemed to return. So the Mystic and the woman looked at me, compassion mixed in their eyes with the sorrow they were resisting.

"Name Schala?"

I blinked, hoisting the helmet higher on my torso to the dismay of a squirming Alfador. "Yes. It is a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Ayla."

"Ayla happy meet Schala," she concurred, smacking my shoulder hard enough that I would have flinched if I was not so desperate to be polite. "And Ayla happy meet Alfa-- ...Alfado? Aaaal, faaaa, door. Ayla happy meet Alfador!"

She extended a finger to my brother's cat. He stared at it in dismay, looking up at me as if asking what he was supposed to do. "Mreow?"

"Ayla no eat Alfador," she promised, holding up her other hand.

Alfador did not seem to completely trust that, but he was pleased enough with the gentle scratching she gave his chin to not bite her hand.

She laughed. "Che fa do dor fa la, ah, Alfador? Hahaha!" Then to Frog and I. "Good cat. Very nice cat."

"Mreow!" he retorted, not pleased to be so underestimated. But content with the attention, he spun around in the helmet once, twice, thrice, and curled into a sleeping ball of fur.

Frog chortled behind his hand, but quickly cleared his throat to ask, "Lady Schala, I advise we find a place to board you for your stay. A safe haven, yes, but this place is not suitable for ample company."

"Oh? Then where might you suggest I go?" I asked. Surely I would not mind to return home, but...

My stomach had calmed, but it threatened to churn again at the mere idea of being so close to that pull of Lavos from the Ocean Palace...

Frog looked at Ayla, who equally side-eyed him. "Frog want make Kino live with Schala?"

He sighed, relenting, "No, t'would not be appropriate."

"Schala live in bush with Frog?"

He paused for a moment, nodding his head to the side at the thought. "I suppose I could spare the bed for now."

"I would not want to intrude," I told him. Alfador meowwed to disagree, but fortunately neither understood him so well.

"Perish the thought, the honor would be mine," he told me, nodding to himself as if needing to confirm the thought. "I warn it is not so clean as Ayla's hut, nor as comfortable, but I am more than happy to offer the space until we find somewhere more suitable."

"Only if you insist," I mumbled.

"I do," he concluded, tossing his cape over his shoulder and walking towards the garden gate. "Come, we may arrive in the forest while the day is still young so you might get comfortable."

Ayla smacked my shoulder again, tossing my scythe to me with a smile beaming across her face. "Follow Ayla and Frog. We show you place to stay."

"Do you suppose the four of us can travel together?" Frog called from the urn, spooning something into a ladle and holding it as if he meant to sip from it.

"Alya, Frog, Schala, and Alfador?" she asked, stalking to the urn. "Alfador is cat, cat is not person, so only three people. And if not, we come right back!"

"Hm, I suppose." He tipped the ladle back and handed it to her. He looked at me as she also drank. "This urn is unable to be dry but unable to be drank outside of this room without this ladle."

"It is...water?" I proposed, looking over their shoulders into the brown and green container. It was nearly too bright and too blue, practically sparkly despite the dimness of the light.

"We are not entirely sure. It is some sort of elixir, to be sure, but where it comes from, we do not understand."

"You feel better if tired or hurt or if magic is gone," Ayla explained, dipping the ladle inside again. A few drops fell into the urn as she offered it to me. "You like?"

It did not seem to be threatening. If anything, there was more color in their cheeks just from the taste. So I politely smiled. "Thank you. You are both very kind."

Ayla let me take the ladle, despite how I must have looked wary. But the liquid was bright and clear, no different than the air around us but as something one could swallow. It filled every sore muscle in my body with new stamina and cooled whatever sickness Lavos's call might still have over me. My magic reserves seemed to lap against my skin, nearly sparking light right before my eyes.

Ayla chuckled as Frog gently said, "A bit much the first time."

I nodded, looking down at the ladle and nervously putting it back into the slot of the urn. "Shall we be off?"

"Ayla think it time to go," she agreed, gesturing behind us as she walked to the gate. "Follow Ayla."

I took a step after her, Frog following behind. But we had just stepped to the stairs behind the gate when Guru Gaspar shouted.

"Hey!"

We nearly fell into each other.

"Hey!"

The four of us glanced at each other and slowly came back into the courtyard. He patiently waited until we were in front of him, then began to speak. "You needn't be in such a rush. Before you go, have a look past the door behind me."

"To see Speckio?"

"Who is Speckio?"

The door behind Gaspar stood unmoving and ominous, the room behind it seeming as innocuous and sealed as a chest at the bottom of the sea.

Ayla gently smiled. "Ayla and Frog show you Speckio."

"But refrain from agreeing to fight him," Frog warned as both of them stepped to the door.

********

The Mammon Machine stood in the center of a new chamber.

Good.

As few reminders of the conversation between Schala and myself during the disaster, the better.

The flyclops had restrained me to the best of their ability, though I believe even they understood they could not actually stop me if I so desired to escape. And perhaps that is why more of the goons were squatting around the room between the robotic walls. Two rolling machines stood guard by the towering device, and the shadows of several eye-like mutants thought they were hidden in the dark corners of the ceiling.

Content with the amount of security and eager to be away from me before I broke their throats, the flyclops shoved me before the machine and flew to the columns by the goons.

The room was silent. Until another pair of shoes began to crack against the ground.

"I hope you had a pleasant rest, Prophet."

Queen Zeal appeared from behind the machine, eyes bronze but otherwise as the human I had known. Just with a touch too much smugness for my comfort.

"If you perform badly today, I imagine you will not know peace again for a long, long time."

Ah, you assume I have known peace recently? "..."

She tilted her head to the side, longingly gazing at the silver abomination that had driven her to madness. "Can you hear it? The power of Lavos yearns for you to join us. How merciful he is for wishing to grant you this gift when you have opposed him so!"

The machine seemed to growl. Or purr.

Somehow that did not entice me further. "..."

"Do you still have nothing to say?" She tsked. "I should warn you, despite my gratitude that Lavos sees potential in someone who used to have my trust, I must admit, I am disappointed. I ask you simple questions, you refuse to answer. I extend my hospitality, you destroy part of your room. Even if you should speak to me, you refuse to even pretend to respect the immense power I hold over you. Today, we remedy that."

The robots beside her shifted to the side, rolling towards the machine. Their torso split open and their neck snapped back, exposing probes and wires that extended to the machine. They seemed to almost shudder as the power as Lavos rushed through their joints, glass eyes turning red and bodies becoming rigid.

Queen Zeal stood in the front of the Mammon Machine, placing her hands against his waist as his smile turned into a smirk. And anticipation that she would enjoy this. "Now we will talk. And you will give me the answers I desire."

"..."

The machine hummed to life behind her, casting red across every surface of the room. I felt myself shift back as if readying for battle, but with no weapon and hands bound, it likely seemed as if I was cowering.

That did please the queen. "We shall start simply. where are you from, Prophet?"

"..." My gaze festered against the machine.

Schala, let your magic stand strong...

The queen looked at the robots. "Proceed."

The robots twisted their probes in the interface portals. The Mammon Machine cried out, forming an orb of red at its central column that narrowed into a beam. I hardly had time to widen my eyes before a streak of red crashed into my chest, knocking me down to one knee in order to try and get out of its line of fire.

The amulet against my chest began to burn as the beam hit the wall behind me, leaving a smoldering ring of ash.

But somehow, the amulet had left me unsinged.

"That was a warning," Queen Zeal announced, waiting until I had turned to face her before she continued. "Resist, and I will have to increase the power."

The amulet cooled as I stood back to my full height.

If she wished to try, then let her try.

Pain held no physical claws I had yet to face.

"How do you not become affected by the power of Lavos? Or have you before and since learned to oppose it?" she suggested.

"..."

She sighed. "Well, then we shall find out how much power it takes to break your defenses."

I planted my feet against the ground, feeling ice grow along my hands as the power of Lavos filled the room.

The glancing blow turned into a cannon of might, almost throwing me to the ground. My boots practically dug trenches in the floor as I threw ice before me, blocking the beam for just long enough that I could watch the cracks form in my shield before it shattered.

The machine seemed content with its show of power.

The queen did not. "Oh, how naive you are."

She pointed a sharp finger to me, casting a glowing circle around me that shot to the ceiling. Magic ripped itself from my body once more, flickering and fading with the magic buster as Zeal breathed in the taste of her stolen strength. "Much better."

Gasps heaved against my chest as I searched for any magic still lurking in my body. As if it had even worked! The buzz of Schala's amulet had not even faded from the second blow when Zeal called out again.

"Where do you hail from?"

"..."

Another blast.

I held my hands up purely by instinct, the power of Lavos snapping the bonds by its force, but no reprieve.

"What is your name?"

I fell to ground that time, catching myself on my side. the burning amulet no doubt leaving a mark.

"Who are you?"

It ripped against my armor, numbly wracking its might against my skin.

"What do you seek, Prophet?!"

The red light was all that could be seen in the room. It filled it and overflowed from it. Sickening and foul and hungry, lapping at the taste of fresh meat like a creature upon its prey.

"Where is my daughter?!"

For how long it lasted, I do not know. Lavos's power did not twist my flesh or rearrange my bones or account for any other sort of pain that rattled my body. But the force from which it hit, as if a gust of wind from falling through sky, was enough to give me pause. And the pain from the amulet...I feared that may do more damage.

Even after the Mammon Machine had gone silent, it took me a long moment to realize I was no longer under attack while I tried to control the amulet enough so that breathing was not painful.

I pressed my elbow to the floor, trying to find somewhere in the room that was not yet swimming into blurs and lights as I shoved myself to my knee. The air tasted as foul as the rotting skin of an imp's corpse, and it was impossible to tell if from my own mouth or the machine.

And so I had not realized that persistent clicking in the back of my head was in fact the queen coming to me.

My hand was yanked into her palm so quickly any lesser man would have stumbled.

A gasp filled the Mammon Machine chamber.

"...?"

Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet hers, But her attention was to my hand.

The disgusting air caught in my throat.

It felt as if all the blood from my veins drained into a dark pool.

In place of a human hand, where mine should have been was a set of claws.

Curved but jagged, dipped darkened gray like a mason's stones. They bent as fingers would over a rough, bordering scaly palms that bore rivets so deep they appeared as scars. They were sharp and strong, so unnatural to humanity they looked more fiendish.

It took such might to stop the, from shaking.

"It worked." The queen cradled them almost gently. A genuine smile overtook her face as she regarded my mutated hands, then raising her brightened eyes to mine with such joy. "You are becoming whole."

The room spun beneath me as she offered it back to me and called for her guards.

She sounded practically excited as two of the goons joined the flyclops. One of the flying worms snatched my gloves from where it had been thrown to the ground in the last attack and brought it with the caravan.

"Take him to the pods so we may examine him for anymore progress! I want all updates by this evening."

********

A vortex of light appeared along the walls.

It churned over the center of the room like a stormy sea, and spat out a glowing figure. Its silhouette bent into a vaguely humanoid shape, arms and legs forming, armor welding itself into place, and a weapon dangling in hand.

And where there had been nothing before was now a humanoid Mystic in maroon armor baring a flail, one wide eye staring between the three of us from the shadowed interior of its round helmet.

"You're back! You kept me waiting for a minute there, kids, I was beginning to worry aboutcha!"

I somehow felt more inclined to grip my scythe tighter as Frog closed the door behind us. Ayla smiled as the sqeacky-voiced fiend. "Many monsters, but Ayla and friends no lose! Spekkio know that."

"With a master like me at your disposal, you better not be able to lose!" he retorted, jabbing his flail toward her. "Good to see you too, captain frog!"

"Likewise. It is rousing to find you in such spirits," Frog said, laying a hand against his sword. "We hope you have not grown too docile in our absence."

"Hey, that spikey-haired fellow hasn't been coming around lately," Spekkio shrugged, tapping his flail in his hands as if waiting impatiently for this person of pointed hair to appear through the door. But with their eye glancing around the three of us, it landed on me. "Wowza!

...I was not familiar with that term. Something in the tone did let me drop my scythe just a bit, though the way his eye was flicking around my person, it was impossible to tell what sort of emotion may have accompanied it.

Spekkio almost sounded as if he was smiling. "You hauled in a marlin here, kids!"

A marlin?

"She can use lightning magic."

I glanced down at my hands, expecting that I had let them start to glow in my apprehensive state.

He could detect such things as a person's magical talents?

What sort of fiend was this?

"She can probably teach me a thing or two, but there's nothin' I can teach her."

Ayla and Frog both seemed a bit taken aback.

"Aye, such praise for you, milady!"

"Tch! Spekkio not even give Ayla magic, but Spekkio say you strong as him!"

"Hey, hey, hey, I don't make the rules, sweetheart, you know that. I'm the Master of War, I don't have time to be the Lawyer of Magic on top of it." He pointed his eye at me again. "You got a lot of magic, kid. You might be as strong a mage at that girl with the goofy glasses!" That invisible smile might have turned into a smirk. His high voice almost started to tease when he said, "What do you say, guys? You looking for some practice?"

Ayla laughed. "You only fight because Ayla no hit you."

"I'm not saying nothin'. Just thinking the girl with the hair scarf wanted to try her luck."

"You wish for us to fight you?" I asked.

"Ay, she speaks! Come on, kid, when did you ever have a chance to beat up the Master of War?"

"Mreow?"

Alfador poked his head out from the helmet.

Spekkio faltered. "You have a cat?"

"Mreow!"

"...Well, he can watch from the corner!" he decided. "Come on, kid, let's see what you have."

"O-oh?" I clutched the helmet a bit tighter. "Well, I suppose if you insist..."

"Thata girl! Come on, cat, you're gonna get a good show."

I reluctantly brought Alfador to a corner as Frog and Ayla took spots at Spekkio's sides, slipping into a battle stance. "Please stay here. I do not know what this...battle will be. But I will be alright. I promise."

"Meow."

The armor still hung lopsided from my shoulders, and the helmet was tempted to flop to the side with each jostling step. A far cry from the way Frog and Ayla were poised to strike, sword and fist hoisted to the air and gritting smiles across their faces.

Spekkio watched as I tried to mimic Frog's sword stance with my scythe. "You ready?"

I pinched my lips. "Yes, sir, of course."

"Wow, and she's polite! Really got it all here, guys. Anyway, sorry that I'm going to destroy you all."

A slab of ice fell from the ceiling. I shouted as it crushed my back, and again as another slab appeared out of nowhere and repeated the painful process.

An arc of fire flew past my eyes and landed against Frog, who barely knocked it away with his sword.

A wave launched from Frog's outstretched hand as Ayla bounced to my side and shoved a bottle into my face. "Take tonic. Get healthy."

I took the small vial as she yanked us into a roll, dodging another stream of Spekkio's fire.

"He is going to kill us!"

"No, Spekkio only hurt friends for fun," she promised. "Drink tonic. Ayla go-- ah!"

A shot of ice barreled into her chest, knocking her back a few feet as a full glacier formed around her.

"Ayla?!"

"Worry not, Schala, she will be fine!" Frog leapt to the side as Spekkio prepared to throw fire again, only to change his mind and bring lightning down on the Mystic instead.

Frog skidded to his knees with a cry.

Shards of ice almost kissed my cheek as Ayla smashed through the glacier, sending pieces of it flying against the walls. She snatched one of the sharper pieces from the ground and shouted at Frog, "Bubble!"

He glanced up as she charged for Spekkio. His hands extended above his head, magic flowing around him and taking him off his feet for just a moment as Ayla leapt into the air. A bubble of water magic formed around her, propelling her above Spekkio. It burst right over the Master of War's head, raining magic and the shouting woman onto him. He jumped in surprise as Ayla landed on his head, stabbing the spear of ice into his eye, and leaping off his back into a roll.

Spekkio cried out in pain, ripping the icicle from his face. The wound melded back together before I could realize he had cast fire into the air.

A red wave hit all of us, and fireballs exploded throughout the room.

Frog and Ayla crumpled to the ground as I yelped at the touch of burns forming on my skin. I dug the butt of my scythe into the ground, watching as Spekkio leveled his eye to me.

The others were not getting up.

"Told you it wouldn't be easy," he reminded me, sounding so sinister with the fallen bodies of my new comrades behind me.

"No. No, no, this cannot be happening again," I breathed, once again staring at the face of Lavos. Crono was between us, his arms raised to the sky as if he planned to call all light in the world to strike him down.

The sound of Lavos's cries as the man disintegrated to ash...

I let my scythe fall to the side. The words of magic were pouring out of me before I could stop them. My pendant may have been glowing, but it was drowned by the light pouring for my hands. Light pulled me into the air, as if a strong wind was what had begun to billow my hair and clothes. The sharp sparks of light danced from my outstretched hands, singing with my words, and flying to the Mystic.

Magic poured from my hands, orbs circling around them and casting a beam of white light at Spekkio. It landed squarely against his eye, throwing him back a few paces as the spell progressed. Then it shattered above him, raining sparks of light all about his giant frame, burning scorch marks into his armor.

He held himself up by one knee. That smirk was still in his voice. "See? What did I tell you, kid?"

Then he raised his own hand to the sky and yanked a bolt of lightning down on my head.

My knees crashed into the stone floor, followed by my hands' feeble attempts to stop myself from falling.

The world turned dark around us, with only Spekkio's laughter filling my final moments--

"Hee hee hee! I win!"

All three of us were back on our feet.

I gasped, patting my arms and stomach for any signs of the burns that had just been their.

Ayla and Frog were both putting away their weaponry and items as if they had taken them out for a quick look and were now satisfied with their quality.

Spekkio stretched his arms, otherwise completely unmoved by having just defeating us so swiftly! "Remember, you make any new friends, you bring 'em to see me, you hear? I like you guys!"

"Even when you make us lose." Ayla threw her fist into Spekkio's shoulder, but the Mystic disappeared from the touch and reappeared as soon as it would have passed through.

"That's what training is for, sweetheart, I can't let you punks go around saving the world when you're green behind the ears! I gotta reputation."

"And from that trouncing, I believe your reputation is well intact," Frog assured him. He caught my wide eyes. "Are you well, Schala? He should have healed any of the ailments he bestowed to you."

"..." I shook my head. "What sort of magical being are you, sir Spekkio?"

"I'm Spekkio, the Master of War," he explained, yet did not explain. "I'll see you around, kid. And don't forget your cat. I don't think he wants to learn magic."

Ayla practically had to drag my by my elbow to leave the room, taking us back to the courtyard where the music played. Alfador meandered between my ankles as Frog closed the door.

What great a magician this Spekkio was! Surely he was not a Mystic or a human, so what sort of being was he?

"I humbly apologize, Schala, I think we neglected to tell you he does not lasting harm. 'Tis all in the spirit of training," Frog told me.

Though I would have greatly appreciated some warning, I said, "It is alright. Rather a shock, but I am fine."

"Schala strong! Schala fight good!"

"Oh. I do not know if I truly have skills to match yours. Perhaps fair instincts," I tried to tell them.

"Even if your skills require honing, you have skills nonetheless. We will aid you with your training should you wish for it."

"If Schala fight Lavos, Schala need get stronger," Ayla warned.

"But she has not yet been with us for a full day," Frog reminded her. "For now, let us find a place for her to settle herself. The fight ahead is enough for us all, and she has not even a place she can stay for long."

"Yes, take Schala to Frog bush!" Ayla agreed.

The Guru's snores caught my ear.

Frog turned to me. "We might yet prepare ourselves for the journey. Do you require anything?"

I rung my hands around the hilt of the scythe. "Forgive me, but I am not even sure to what land we are traveling. What would you recommend?"

Ayla glanced down at Frog, who seemed to be considering something. "How about you take a moment to prepare your pet for the trip? We can make you a pack."

"Oh! No, no, let me aid you," I told them.

"I insist. Make what arrangement are necessary for yourself and Alfador. Do not tarry long, we will be but a moment."

Alfador's intelligent purple gaze looked at them depart. Then to the Guru of Time.

"I know. Thank you for making sure I asked, my friend."

"Mreow." He wandered with me to Gaspar, sitting in front of him.

I braced myself for needing to awaken him, but it proved to be only necessary to stand before him and simply wait for his eyes to crack open.

"Ah, Schala. You will be off with the others in a few moments."

"Yes. They have been most kind as to suggest lodging for me," I explained.

Already there was a tightness in my throat. A suggestion of the words that would soon need to be asked, though I did have to brace my thoughts for even suggesting the question.

"Please, great Gaspar, can you tell me of Janus?"

His eyes looked at me curiously. "Prince Janus?"

"I know he lives somewhere in time," I explained, gripping my hands into fists so they might hurt instead of my voice. "Please. Where can I find him?"

Gaspar might have hummed to himself below the music, his mind wandering either in itself of through the ages. "The young prince leads a path few would choose to walk. One that I fear is not my place to reveal."

Something rose in the back of my throat. So surely he was alive as the Fiendlord said! "Guru, with all of my immense respect for you and your knowledge, he would want me to know of him regardless of if he were a prince or a fish-monger. Where is my brother?"

"He is far from the brother you once knew. Yet he searches for you desperately." He returned his attention to me. "If you both look, you will find each other. Though I warn you of his path, and advise you be prepared to not recognize him."

The path that would bring him into acquaintance with the man Marle, Lucca, and Frog had fought a war against. What my brother had done to earn the trust of a man proposed to be so vile as Magus, I shuddered to think. But if Magus could perform the small act of kindness of telling me my brother lived...I knew that must have been Janus's goodness persisting, even if he should be within the presence of the Fiendlord.

And if I could find the home of the Magus, perhaps I could find Janus as well. "Then perhaps I could ask a different question?"

"If you desire, Schala."

"...The Prophet who addressed my mother's court, and who rescued me from the Ocean Palace, he told me he was the Fiendlord, Magus. I wish to know of where he came from. Though no doubt within the Ocean Palace (if he should still live) I wish to bring some sort of condolences to his family. Or if he has none, I could at least see to his affairs staying in order as a small token of my appreciation for what he has done."

Now, the Guru was hardly able to speak. "...You wish to find the Fiendlord Magus."

"I know where he must be. I wish to find his homeland."

"...You seek a man who is as illusive as the dead he commands," he warned me. "But if you should look for his war, you will find where he ruled from."

I mulled the words over in my mouth, as if tasting them for some sort of extra clue to what that might be. But with his eyes on me, I reluctantly smiled, bowing my head so my hair fell into my eyes. "Thank you, great Guru, you have been a great aid to me."

********

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Flea hissed, practically driving his nail-like claws into wooden counter. "Of all the indignant things I've done for you, of all the humans I've killed, of all--"

"Ugh... Flea?"

"Eh! Of all the missions I've gone on and of all the prizes I've won for us, this," Ozzie yanked me away by my collar before Flea could skewer me on his hand, "has to be the most embarrassing, revolting waste of my power I've ever experienced!"

"Ya done?" Ozzie snapped.

Flea paused for a moment, twirling his braid in his fingers once, and tossed it over his shoulders. "For now."

I hardly bothered noticing his eyes glaring into my head.

"But don't think I'm going to be happy about this, filthy human brat."

I looked up at Ozzie, ignoring the fae. "Can we go somewhere with better patrons? This one is starting to irk me."

His thick lip practically spat, "Pfft. Look at that, the 'prince' isn't happy with this fine establishment."

"Aww, is he upset we don't have enough forks?" Flea cooed, picking up the empty clay plate of an imp next to him and offering it to me. "My lord, does this fine porcelain suit your fancy, or should I go raid a village for some gold-rimmed plates?"

They both sputtered with laughter. Ozzie's hand smacked the back of my head as he leaned on the counter.

I scowled, spitting a few strands of hair out of my face. "You are both such fools..."

"Maybe he's gonna cry," Flea excited cheered. "Come on, brat, you gonna cry?"

I offered him a withering look. "Do you have such little in your life that tormenting a child brings you this much entertainment?"

"Not a 'child,' a human brat!" he corrected.

"Flea?! Will you keep your voice down!?" Ozzie exclaimed, reaching up to smack him in the back of the head as well but coming up a foot short. "Do you really want this entire place to know we're wandering around with a human??"

He rolled his eyes, leaning his elbows against the counter. "Whatever..."

I did find myself smirking a little bit as a pout grew on his face.

Just long enough for Ozzie to yank my cloak hood down even further. "You need to keep that thing down, kid."

"I am!"

"Hey!" His squashed face practically smeared itself against mine. "Don't get any ideas, kid. The only thing keeping you alive right now is that magic you used to kill my men back in Truce Canyon. You really want to push your luck?"

"I will do as I please--!"

"I swear you talk more than Flea," he bemoaned. "The correct is no. Got me? 'No.' So when I say, 'you really want to push your luck?' you say...?"

"...Yes."

"No!"

"Ugh, come on, Ozzie, they're thick-headed by nature. Don't set your expectations too high for him."

"I just find the present company not worth my time," I declared, crossing my arms over my chest.

Flea practically snarled. "I'll make sure our time together is short if you keep that up."

"I doubt it." I smugly countered, "Ozzie needs me. Strange how he needed to recruit a human if you were his mage... Your magic must be deplorable."

Flea's face burst into a flaming scarlet. "How dare--?!"

"Welcome to Medina Tavern what can I get you started with?" a bored ogan barmaid asked.

Flea reeled on the barmaid as Ozzie's wet laughter filled the air. "We are having a conversation!"

"Three Boiler Makers. And skimp on the *cough* intoxicating stuff for my nephew here. Pipsqueak imp doesn't have the stomach for it."

"I know what alcohol is," I told him.

"Put that on my tab." She blinked. Ozzie rolled his eyes. "That's Ozzie the Os Born. Got it?"

The ogan shrugged and trodded off, her tail lazily swishing behind her.

I had never been to a tavern before. I suspect mostly to due with the fact that there were no taverns in Zeal. There of course was drinking, but the Zealots were not so distasteful when they went about it...

All around us were Mystics shouting, banging their utensils on the tables, the occasional fist hammering in another patron's teeth. There was even some sort of bird Mystic that was attempting to talk with Flea before he shoved him away by his beak.

I shuddered to think of what sort of punishment Mother would come up with for such behaviors. Schala had once dozed during a spell and was not permitted to rest for another day to make up the damage she had caused.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?" Ozzie prodded.

I glared up at him, holding my hood down so he would not get distracted by the stupid disguise malfunctioning. "Nothing of your concern."

"Uh-huh. Does it have to do with that stupid necklace you haven't explained?"

I bristled, feeling the oversized amulet halfway to falling out of my pocket. "I think you are curious what I'm thinking about because you don't have thoughts very often."

"Oh!" Flea covered his mouth. "Ozzie, he's vicious to you as well, can't we remove his limbs?"

The large imp had a look of utter "I will control myself" on his face. "We are not killing him."

"I said torture him, not kill him."

"We're keeping him mostly intact."

"I can live with 'mostly.'"

One of those scuffles behind us threw a bottle over Ozzie's head, smashing it into the bar.

Flea's eye began to twitch. "How long does it take to get to the fort from Medina?"

"We're at the edge of the forest. If the brat doesn't slow us down, probably a day."

"Ah!" Flea kicked the ogan that had fallen into his back, sending him to the swarm of freelancers that had throw him our way. "Yaaaaaay, we're going to walk through a cursed forest for a day after having gotten beaten up by drunks. Watch yourself, you lowlifes!"

The freelancers looked up from the ogan cowering beneath them. "Mind your own business!"

"Just keep your prey out of mine!" He tried to turn around to glare at Ozzie, but the freelancers had lost interest in the ogan.

"You got a problem, fae?"

Flea rolled his eyes. Ozzie grumbled something to himself and also turned on his stool. I started to estimate how long it would take for me to run to the window.

Flea got to his feet brushing invisible dirt from his red sleeve. "You want to cause some for me, freelancer?"

"We're not looking for any," Ozzie added.

"But it's late, it's rainy, I'm still half-soaked, and I have to babysit," Flea warned them. "Please give me something to blow up, come on!"

"Okay, not going to blow anything up," Ozzie amended.

There was only one door out, and it was through the main seating area. Filled with freelancers, ogans, faes, imps, and Mystics I didn't know the names for. Not a good option.

There were a few windows, but since the wind was howling outside and the rain was still threatening to bring down the roof, they were sealed tighter than the Lavos doors in Zeal.

Except for one. On the far side of the tavern was a single window that had a crack and a loose hinge, likely from someone who had threatened Flea at some other point. Yes, it was far, and yes, I did not exactly have the height for it, but if I could just get into the cursed forest, I might be able to use it to get away from them and find another gate.

I shoved Schala's amulet deeper into my pocket.

"Do you really want to do this, Flea?" Ozzie checked.

One of the freelancers took out their blade.

Flea smirked. "Just let me enjoy myself, Ozzie."

He pulled tossed a swirling fireball out of the damp air and threw it at the freelancer. It landed against her long beak and threw her halfway to the exit, landing in the middle of a table of faes. They stood up and cast their own magic.

"Great job, Flea, glad we're doing this," Ozzie grumbled, standing on the stool with his squat legs. I was given one last look. "Stay here, pipsqueak. Don't cause us any trouble."

More of the freelancers drew their blades and began to spin through the air. Flea charged forward, twirling fire in his fingers as he danced through their meager defenses. Ozzie flew after, leaving a straight path for the window (past the rioting Mystics charging forward to join the fray).

I slipped off the stool as Ozzie smashed his fist into a fae's cheek. A few ogans nearly trampled me underfoot as I dodged past their table. Sparks were flying overhead as I shoved an unoccupied stool under the window and started trying to pry off the hinge.

Flea's laughter rang through the tavern, just to get cut off with a startled choke.

I hissed as I caught my finger on the hinge and it started to bleed.

Ozzie blubbered a spell, followed by a score of freelancers shouting in surprise.

The hinge finally fell off.

Half the window fell to the floor, shattering just below my feet.

I pushed the other half out of the way and pulled myself onto the ledge. Ozzie and Flea were granted one more look before I slipped out of the window, stumbling into the wet grass.

Or what would have been grass if it did not all melt into mud.

The sickening squish of the mud against my boots almost tempted me to finally get rid of the hideous things, but I had a mission.

The forest was only a few strides away. If I could get there I could disappear. I could find a way to get home and I could find Schala.

I pulled my hood further down my head, wanting to curse at the rain for how it already soaked through my clothes, but I had a mission!

So I ran for the line of trees surrounding the tiny village of Medina.

"Hey, where are you going?!"

I gasped but I would not be stopped do easily.

"You're with the imp and the fae! You're not getting away so easy!"

The freelancer pulled out his blade and began to gallop across the mud.

I never lost sight of the trees. Even when I began to feel any ache in my legs and the amulet began to weigh me down.

Looking at it now, I am rather impressed with young Janus's speed for how little he cared about sport before arriving into Ozzie's company.

The freelancer, on the other hand, was not so impressed by the young prince. He threw his blade, landing the hilt against my head.

I stumbled, catching myself with one hand, and kept running.

But the freelancer grabbed my shoulder and threw me into the mud. I began to indignantly back away on my arms, but he grabbed my collar and pulled me to the tip of his knife.

Something cold and dark began fall from my hands. Foreign, but somehow comforting in its presence.

By instinct I quashed it, the woman's face that was once Mother's rearing before my memories, waiting to snatch my magic into her wild, destructive plans for us! With Schala behind her. The wonderful light in her eyes dim...

"Didn't think I'd catch you, huh? Well, you're going to answer with your--"

My hood fell back.

Our eye met as his widened in his helmet.

The freelancer nearly dropped me, rearing back his head in disgust. "You're a human?! They have a human?!"

The magic in my veins begged for me to listen to it. To let me use this power.

It could not be hidden in this world if I wanted to survive.

The blade reappeared before my chin. "We really can't have that."

Darkness clouded around us. The freelancer jumped, looking about for any sign of another Mystic. Only too late realizing the shadows were roaming from the mere human's hands.

"You can use--?!"

I threw a bomb of dark magic into the freelancer, watching him fly through the air and skid in the field of mud.

The cold feeling grew against my skin as I tried to stand up. Yet the seemed too insurmountable an obstacle for me, even as the shadows trying to vie for my attention.

The freelancer had no hesitation taking advantage of my folly for not rising when I had the chance. He stood, preparing his throwing stars. His eyes narrowed over his beak, fog rising from his breath. "A magic human?! We really can't have that."

He raised his weapons to the air.

And a bolt of fire engulfed his body.

His screams were muffled by the sound of his armor cracking and his own bones melting away. Until there was just a pile of ash sinking into the mud.

Flea's breaths were labored and thick behind me. But Ozzie cheered. "Did you see that?! That's why we're keeping this kid! Imagine what he can do for the cause with some training!"

I leaned forward in the mud, desperately trying to feel anything in my arms.

Ozzie hovered around my shaking frame. And for the first time since I had met him (a full week ago, so keep in mind, the expectations were low), Ozzie smiled. It was so close to genuine I to this day cannot remember if it was the darkness mistaking it for something that was not there, or if he had intended it. "You got a lot of potential kid. I'm going to make sure it's not wasteeee--eee-ee--ee--"

"Initiating draining protocol."

My eyes ripped open in the pod.

One of the robots was standing before me. Unfortunately at a relatively safe distance,

No matter.

I shoved my back against the glass and began to kick at the containment chamber one more, only this time for the liquid to drain much faster than anticipated and leave me standing inside. The pod opened with hardly any hesitation.

The robot's visor seemed to scan me curiously for a moment as I brushed off any sign of the congealed liquid off my shoulders and removing clumps from my hair. Extra care was required now as they had finally seen fit to take my armor and these ridiculous claws were hardly practical for delicate work. Fortunately, it seemed my tunic had been left undisturbed, and Schala's amulet with it, though a simple graze with my claw was enough to remind me of the burns it had left on me.

...

As poor as this situation is, it felt no inclination to let myself dwell on the fact that I would now be contending with these...adaptations.

And as such, I had no intention of lingering on the subject.

My duty was beyond such cheap cosmetic alterations, and Zeal's fascination with such a thing would only be a hindrance to my plans if I did not properly exploit this turn of events.

The robot began to speak. "Subject: the Prophet. Observations: clear evidence of mutations akin to those that enlightened the people of Zeal. However, there is no trace of Lavos's power internally or externally. Conclusions: the mutations present are the result of a minor breach in unknown magical defenses. Increasing the power output of the Mammon Machine during further testing advised."

"How wonderful," I spat, standing to my full height as I addressed the machine. "You have concluded nothing other than the obvious and I am subject to more torture for it. The wonders of science."

The visor blinked. "Sarcasm detected. Advisory notice: to obtain most polite interactions with medical personal, sarcasm is highly discouraged as it is often an inflammatory method of communication that may lead to confusion between staff and prisoners."

"I am sure the queen's plans will be highly affected by my presence."

The visor blinked again. "Sarcasm detected. Advisory notice: to obtain most polite interactions--"

Ironic that it was so quick to believe I was joking.

"--may lead to confusion between staff and prisoners." It began to role towards the doors of the smaller room, passing several hidden cabinets and a metal plank that might have been proposed as a bed, though it seemed to have never been touched.

The robot stood at the door and extended a set of wiring to a communications panel beside it. "Prisoner 'the Prophet' has been cleared to be taken back into proper custody. Request: armed personal for transport."

Well. Perhaps I would at least get a tour.

********

Even as my legs ached and a yawn haunted my breath after having traveled oh so far from Truce Canyon, I could not myself from looking at every leaf, ever seam of bark, every hidden bird's nest and beetle!

The forest was so grand! It must have had hundreds of beautiful trees stretching past where we could see through the foliage! Everything was fresh and light, kissed by a morning rain and singing with the distant trills of woodland animals.

"Is this not wonderful, Alfador?" I whispered to the cat on my shoulder.

"Mreow..." He nestled into my shoulder as I followed Frog and Ayla through the brush.

"Do not lose Alfador," Ayla warned, voice nearly at a whisper. I was a bit startled just for the caliber of her voice to be so quiet. "Fangtooth hunt small animal."

Alfador and I both took a step back. "O-oh?"

Frog stopped for a moment. "Ayla, do not worry the young lady so. We will not let any harm befall you, Schala, I assure you."

I bowed my head, clasping my hands before my stomach. "No, I apologize. I will be quiet from now on."

"...You find interest in the forest," Frog noted, starting to walk again. His knees were hardly taller than the grass between the trees, but he manned the forest as expertly as Dalton did the air.

I waited a moment, but as they both continued, I realized I should follow. "There are few trees in Zeal, and fewer on the Earthbound Continents. I was taught of such a thing as jungles in my history classes of my youth, but none were present in my land."

"You know see forest before?" Ayla exclaimed.

I kept my eyes low and shook my head. "No, I am afraid not. I hope that is not a hindrance."

"Perish the thought," Frog advised, springing onto a log that had blocked our path. "'Cursed' as the forest may be, that only implies that fiends wander about it. Your magic is much stronger than theirs, just caution yourself in an encounter to avoid being startled. A fangtooth bite or an edible frog's acid is no painless attack."

I blinked through a yawn. "An edible Frog?"

"Yes, a small pink variety."

Ayla leapt onto the log and both offered me a hand. I hopped, and they yanked me onto the log before we jumped to the other side.

The scythe nearly fell out of the harness Frog had fashioned from an older sword's sheath. "But is your name not 'Frog'?"

"...Frog is frog," Ayla tried to explain, quirking her head to the side in confusion as we walked.

"Yes, Frog's name is Frog. What are you talking about edible Frogs?"

Frog croaked, the air in his throat filtering in slower as he realized. "A frog is a sort of animal or fiend. Usually of the colorful, long-tongued variety of amphibious animals. They are rather small, rarely more than a hand's length, and tend to hop about between four legs, but two is more so for fiends."

"...So you are named for your species?" I asked, unfortunately more confused.

"In a way."

"Is this common for Mystics?"

His brow seemed to pinch, despite his lack of one. "I see. 'Tis understandable, but I am no Mystic."

"...Surely you are not a mere animal," I said.

"No. I am not entirely sure what my qualifications are." His stride began to lengthen, growing stiffer as he curtly explained. "I used to be fully human. This current form is but a curse."

Each word felt as if he had to push it from his throat. Ayla took over for him. "During big war, Frog become frog. Lose..." She coughed, giving a chance for Frog to stop her explanation. "...Lose friend. Try to fight for friend. Then magic make human Frog into frog Frog."

My face felt limp as the man before me hacked past a thicket. "What sort of person has magic in this time to cause such a thing?"

He growled in his throat, making his words resound against the trees. "'Twas no man. Recall the conversation you entertained with Marle and Lucca in the village? The one of the war."

"...Yes," I breathed. And so I knew the answer, as much as it sent a shiver along my back.

"It was Magus, the most powerful of the fiends, with enough bitterness in his heart to decimate villages and kingdoms alike," he spat, swinging at the thicken with enough fervor to break through in a single, mighty stroke. "He who robbed all of us these decades for his war and robbed Cyrus of his life. And he yet evades justice for his crimes."

The woods rustled around us as we went even deeper into the cursed forest.

"...I am sorry," I told him.

He may not have heard me.

"...I may not be experienced in combat, but I am a magician of some small power," I admitted. "If you should wish to break this spell, I may be of some aid."

We appeared in a glade with only a few tufts of tall grass and a lone bush to decorate the flat plain. Frog way for that bush and sighed. "Your offer is generous, Schala. But this is no spell. A curse can only be broken by the caster. And only by taking the life of the caster."

Ice water rushed through my veins, and blood tasted in my mouth.

Janus knew this man. Magus could not have been so truly evil as to...also hurt Janus.

Of course not.

I must have been quiet for much too long. Frog likewise only stared at the bush for a long moment. So Ayla was left glancing between the two of us until the brush past the glade began to rustle with fiends. "No think about Magus now! Show Schala bush!"

She grabbed us both by the arm and hauled us to the other side of the bush.

Pushing aside a few innocuous branches showed us a ladder into a pit of dirt, like an Earthbound cave.

Ayla beat back the foliage and jumped onto the top rung, sliding down to the dark pit. Somewhere below she shouted, "Schala come!"

Frog pulled his bitterness into somewhat of a welcoming visage and held the branches for me.

"Thank you," I mumbled, staring into the cave. Alfador settled his paws into my robes, nearly poking it with his claws, and meowed in my ear to have me climb down.

I gripped the rung of the wooden ladder and began to descend.

The generous cavern was lit by the filtered light through the bush overhead, making it feel gentle and calm. Ayla lot the candle on the table in the center of the small room and brought some cheer into the darker edges, lighting up the rest of the small sitting area, a bed, and a few chests and shelves strewn throughout the cozy place. Alfador hopped down from my shoulder to inspect a set of crudely-drawn humanoid figures cut to pieces with sword strokes in the walls, and similarly a few rocks with unfortunate frowns and angry eyes that had been attacked many times, jumping at them as he might a string. Once one was thoroughly defeated, he leapt to the table and began to inspect the plate that had been left there.

A short perch overhead seemed to contain a rack for weapons, though I dared not try to reach it for my lack of froggish appendages.

Frog crossed over to one of the cabinets by the bed, searching for something, while Ayla sent to a chest in a different corner and removed what appeared to be a large purple bed sheet with a hole in it. She popped her head through the hole and took a vine-like rope from the chest, tying it around her waist and creating something like a chiton over her skins and armor. She grinned at my curious look and explained, "Town people say Ayla not dress enough. And Frog land colder than Ayla vilalge."

"There we are!" Frog declared. He shoved a drawer closed with his shoulder, seemingly quite proud of himself. "You can put our belongings in any of these empty cabinets. So any of your clothes, equipment, trinkets, whatever can fit here, I will allow. And, of course, the scythe can go with the other weapons..."

We all looked up at the perch.

"...Or I can find another place to store it," he decided. "You may take the bed, and though I offer my amentities to you, we will need to discuss some sort of outhouse. Cooking is done by fire," he gestured to what looked like an oven and a chimney dug into the mud walls, "and there is a creak for bathing just past the glade to the north."

Those were not quite the accommodations I had expected.

Surely, I did not expect the gold walls and lights that worked as magic beacon, but an outhouse was not my taste in care.

But I was being offered his home, and I was in no position to refuse.

Not when something had crossed my mind that made this place even more enticing.

I held my hands together before my chest. "You are already too kind for offering as much as the floor. Thank you, Frog."

"The pleasure is mine, Schala. Do not trouble yourself with asking for anything, I trust us to see to your comforts. As much as we can provide."

Alfador glared up at Ayla as she pat his head. "When Schala happy, we go to town."

I blinked. "'Town'?"

"The city of Porre is but a short walk," Frog explained. "If you are too tired, we may let you rest, do not worry."

It was probably for the best that Frog waited until the next day to show that a "short walk" would be several hours. After everything, I must admit, despite the worn appearance, the bed did look somewhat enticing. It was not even evening yet I felt I could rest for a full day.

"Perhaps I shall take a nap," I mumbled. "I am not used to such long journeys, and I wish to be more appropriate when meeting your people."

Frog thought for a moment. "...Then we shall attempt to find a more proper time to go. Would you care if we stayed while you rest?"

"Of course not, it is your home, simply being lent to me," I said, holding my palms to him. "Please, do as you would."

A slow smile went to his face. And only then did I realize that perhaps he also felt more tired than he may like to tell us. "As you wish, Schala. Get some rest."

He turned back to the table where Alfador and Ayla were trying to figure out if they were playing or hunting.

"...Frog."

He stopped.

"...I am sorry, but I have a question on a delicate subject."

"What troubles you?"

I held my hands together once more, nearly wringing a divot into them. "...You spoke of Magus and the war. Do we have reason to believe his forces may lurk in the area?"

His shoulders deflated a bit. "No, milady, there is no worry. After we defeated him in his keep, the war seems to have ended. There have been no threats but meager whimpers from his former generals. You are safe here."

"But do his generals not yet live, if that is the case? What of them?"

"Well, as I imagine it would be beneficial for us to remain in the area of Porre, there is no chance for us to stumble on any of his territory. The fiends have one of the north east continents, and the Fiendlord's keep is beyond the sea. The magic cave may be used, but its entrance it hidden in the mountains and no fiend would think to look for it."

I pretended as if that eased my own tense stance. "I see. Thank you, Frog, that is a great comfort."

"Get some rest, Schala," he gently said. "Worry less of such things for now."

Ayla laughed as Alfador playfully batted at her finger.

I smiled at the three of them and found myself behind the cabinets, curled in the bed. The sound of the forest and the chatting of the others while Alfador settled between them was my lullaby to sleep.

********

"You know, other than trying to choke me to death, you're really not giving us trouble as a prisoner, so I appreciate your cooperation."

I believe the flyclops was talking to me, but I had lost interest after the last few floors of black, metal walls. It was hardly worth my attention, what I had not seen in Balthazar's schematics, I had inspected quite thoroughly as the Prophet. Every seam and every lamp were well-etched into my mind, preparing me for the moment when Lavos appeared and met his fate!

The walls now only served as a reminder his wrath of the mind and the body.

And provided a meager distraction from the limitless spout of ramblings that came from the flyclops.

"We did put the door back on, and we've reinforced it, so you will never escape again!"

Perhaps the elevators would provide me a brief moment of respite. If their insistent buzzing did not drown his voice, as least a cybot may crush him. Though more of Lavos's foul mutants may only bring more of his magic to my presence and anger Schala's amulet all the more..

For all of those decades...

All those years of waiting, the years of preparing for Lavos to meet his deserved demise.

Of taking myself from the prince of this poisoned kingdom to a warlock to command all fiendkind. This world bowed to me, not to this forgotten, cursed queen who made herself a pet to our doom!

He should be dead.

His corpse should be rotting in the keep. Gathering dust as one of my ancient trophies. His head would make a fine footstool.

And Schala would be freed from the shackles of her love for that witch. Should I perish, the last spell from my breath would be used to kill that creature. On my life, by the sure power I possess, she would see a day where she need not fall to the whims of the fire parasite, the mad queen...the cursed prince. And the foul, foul man I had so gratefully become for the chance of slaying Lavos.

Now she was at least past our former mother's reach. It was my duty to return to the mission at hand.

Queen Zeal's fascination with me would hinder that somewhat.

Moonfell was secured, as were any of my personal belongings. In the plans there was an armory on nearly every floor, so I had little imagination about finding them with no further evidence. Sure, she may smelt Moonfell or dissect the Raven Armor for parts, but she was not one to let go of something so easily.

Or, perhaps, the queen would simply show them to me at our next meeting.

Regardless, it hardly mattered unless I could wield it, as Lvos had seemingly eviscerated my magic.

...I could not feel the shadows.

Their familiar coldness was no longer a constant comfort I had grown to expect.

Mutations, defeat, death itself...this break from the magic I had known, this lifeblood that had brought me through Zeal and the war and to Lavos, this unsettled me to the point where I had almost neglected to stay aware of what room were were about to pass through.

"We think if you finally accepted the power of Lavos, you would understand that we are not the enemy--"

I nearly spared him the honor of a reaction, but fortunately I was distracted before I could bring myself to such a low.

There were windows here. A minor note, perhaps, I was never fond of them in my architecture, but they had caught my interest in these blueprints.

They had been intended to provide a sweeping view of the ocean's floor, a way for the greatest of the Zealots to admire the world they were unknowingly torturing. A feat Belthazar had not stopped prattling about as an engineering marvel for their size and the water they would have to hold back. Naturally, I saw them as somewhat unimportant, decor for the most obvlious as to stick themselves at the bottom of an ocean where they could not see the suffering they caused.

But here, the grand windows did not show the sea.

They showed the great mountain range on the island to the south.

Another, that cabin on the plains and the ocean beyond it.

The snow-covered peaks behind a glass dome that sparked with light and machinery.

And then the copper peaks I had seen outside that pitiful window in my "cell." The ones I had employed my men to search for the human's secret tunnel, the ones that had stood guard in front of the cursed forest around my keep before it had even been created.

The queen's of so precious Black Omen was straddling time where my territory would be in thousands of years.

I had not realized I had stopped to marvel at such luck until the voice of the flyclops once again bit at my patience. "Hey! Keep moving! This isn't a show!"

"I swear you talk more than the queen," I bemoaned.

His three-fingered hands shot above his head. "You will not insult Her Majesty!"

"Oh, I must have been misinformed," I drawled.

"...Good! Just don't do that again!"

One of the flyclops jabbed something against the small of my back. They were treated to a nasty glare until they recoiled back to their place in line.

But I was in...an improved mood.

So they were allowed to return me to my cell with few other delays.

********

"Subject: Her Royal Majesty Queen Zeal. Conclusion: Her Majesty will reign forever."

"Your words are kind, god man." I held my hand out to have him stand. His visor reflected beautifully in the blue light of the throne room. "You have news of the Prophet as I commanded?"

The visor flickered. "Subject: the Prophet. Observations: clear evidence of mutations akin to those that enlightened the people of Zeal. However, there is no trace of Lavos's power internally or externally. Conclusions: the mutations present are the result of a minor breach in unknown magical defenses. Increasing the power output of the Mammon Machine during further testing advised."

A nasty worry line threatened my brow. "You suggest he succumbed to Lavos's power, yet there is no trace of his magic in the Prophet. It does not ring suspicion that his appearance is all that has altered? His signature should have jumped to the level of progress we have made!"

"Testing will continue at your request, Your Majesty."

A voice spoke in the far reaches of my mind. It was so distant, yet so warm. So clear... "...AmgwiseAwho had not oAAi.mmxcz/..."

"Yes. Yes of course..." I breathed in response, relishing the touch of the might of Lavos as a chilld went through my spine. "This will be solved."

The man before me remained silent. But clearly he was curious.

"There is no power of Lavos within the Prophet," I informed him. "He has never been touched by it. Nor is he a Mystic, never have I seen one on his kind. So that would mean he must be human. A human touched with power we know not as Lavos, and a man we have not seen before he came to our court, yet possessing magic. He must be an Elightened One, but if not a subject to Lavos's magic..."

Oh.

Oh, yes, of course...!

The medical officer waited patiently as I slipped my hand into a fist. "He is not blessed by Lavos's magic. He is under the curse of fiend magic."

"Ionrtyk./hd.!"

"I will see to it," I assured him. Then to the man before me, "After he has time to recover, bring him before me. He must answer this deception by his own words!"

"Conclusion: it shall be done, Your Majesty."

He bowed, slowly beginning to roll down the aisle from my throne, past the pods where the council stayed under mine and Lavos's careful watch.

And soon, I was alone."

". . . How clever, Prophet. If there was ever a man so greatly capable of deceiving, I must commend your skill above any others'." I leaned against my weary wrist, oh so disappointed in his continual, shameful behavior to his queen. "A fiendish curse. How uninspired!"

And I...

...smiled.

Notes:

Thank you for reading!

This chapter took a while to write, and I am again certain there ar los of typoss.

Do I think that the Black Omen has windows to every time period like this? ...No. Do I think this version of the Black Omen will help someone in the next chapter? ...Maybe.

Please comment if you enjoyed!

Update: I've been trying to get chapters out on a somewhat bi-weekly basis, but unfortunately, finals are coming up and I am swamped. Chapter four is in the works, but will likely be posted sometime around mid May. Thank you so much for everyone who has commented and kudo-ed (kudo-ed?) they've been making my day. See you in two weeks!

Chapter 4: What we Tell Ourselves, and What People Hear

Summary:

"It began over 10 years ago, just after the start of the great war! Magus and his fiends had raised their unjust fury against us and attacked! The great evil of so many legends who would threaten our peace and our homes! And so, we needed to call upon our hero..."

Ah, this was the story of Magus!

I shuffled closer, whispering an apology to a startled Alfador, knowing I couldn't dare to miss any word. This may be how I found some hint to Janus!

********

Magus's story is complicated, and up for interpretation. He mentions only what he's willing to discuss, while across time people are rewriting him to suit their fancy. Though trying to settle in with the others, Schala searches for a clue to where Janus might be, with only these stories of the Fiendlord as her guide.

Notes:

...It still counts as the middle of May, right?

This chapter got waaaaaaay longer than I thought it would be, and school decided to have a choke hold on me until literally the day grades were due, but we're back!

Hope you enjoy!

(Shout out to eliddell for inspiring a lot of the fiend biology lore.)

I was quite unusual for a Mystic.

Gifted with magic, knowledgeable on the subject beyond what most were taught in the greater magic academies of the Mystics.

Yet never having been taught how to read any dialect of fiendish. Could not name more than a handful of fiendish species. Hardly even trained in any sort of combat!

It was a bit miraculous I managed to survive the first two seconds of Truce Canyon.

Ozzie was an impish leader with some little renown, mostly with an ancestral legacy and not much else to his name. He sought to remedy that by inciting the ever-brewing human and Mystic war.

This was done by starting small raids on towns in Guardian territory. He would assemble a small amount of impish mercenaries and send them into town, stealing and pillaging until they returned or the Guardia Knights came for them

He had been about to set his minions out for another raid when Lavos's portal dumped me in the forest.

Since I was human, he could not waste an opportunity in front of potential minions, so he ordered them to attack.

Having just been before Lavos mere seconds ago, my magic was aching, begging to be used.

I had not touched those reserves in what felt like years. They had hardly been used around Schala, and while she was gone at the Ocean Palace for so much of those last few months, I had no interest in using magic.

The slightest call of Lavos was enough for it to be tempted.

And the sight of danger was the trigger.

Purely by instinct, I unleashed a wrath of shadows on the imps, tearing them apart by the dark seems of their flesh until they were nothing but dust on the wind.

Immediately, I did what any pitiful child would after what I had seen in just that one minute and began to cry and beg for my sister. I had not even realized I was sent to another time and imagined I was somewhere in the Earthbound Caves or wherever fiends roamed.

Ozzie finally managed to move after the shock of a magical human had worn off and gently approached. "Hey...kid?"

I leapt around with a scream, holding my hands in front of myself while I closed my eyes. "Stay back! I'll hurt you! Stay away!"

"Woah, woah, kid, I'm not gonna hurt you," he insisted, shuffling back. "I just need to make sure you're alright. You got lost in the forest and killed a bunch of people, so not the best day, huh?"

The lack of any grovelling or attempts at being placative caught me by surprise. Enough to look at the fat green monster who had plodded out of the trees. "...Who are you?"

Ozzie was probably offended by that, but he had yet to show his true pig-headed nature just yet, so I took his introduction in stride. "You don't know me?"

"...Should I?" I asked, crossing my arms.

He bolstered himself up, trying to look commanding in his white toga. "I am Ozzie the Os Born! Leader of this band of Mystics! ...I have more of them, don't worry. And I command the great Ozzie Fortress of the East! Who are you?"

"...Where are we?"

"Not what I asked, kid."

"How do you not know who I am?" I scoffed, holding my arms tighter as the shadows threatened to burst out of my palms.

"You don't know who I am. Makes us even."

Now with my pride as the Prince of Zeal wounded and having just killed three people, I sniffled again. "You can point me to the nearest village."

He blinked and looked around the canyon as if he clearly did not know I was addressing him. "Was that supposed to be you ordering me around?"

"I have you know I am the prince!" I shouted at him, looking as dignified as a 10-year-old could in a tear-splattered smock.

That only served to freeze Ozzie in place while he tried desperately to remember if any king and queen had a child my age. "...Prince of what? We have a couple of those."

Then it was my turn. "...What by Zeal are you talking about?! Do I look like I belong to an Earthbound chief?!"

"Woah, kid, don't go crazy, I'm just trying to make sense of you," he insisted. "Mind putting the hands of death away?"

I looked down at the shadows creeping against my fingers and put them into fists at my side. "Where am I?"

"East side of Truce Canyon."

"...Which is?"

"North of the city of Truce."

I motioned for him to continue.

He rolled his eyes. "We're on the same hunk of land as Castle Guardia? Ruled by the Kingdom of Guardia?"

I could only shrug. Those names had no meaning.

Ozzie threw his hands in the air and let them fall against his sides. "In the western hemisphere? In the year 580 A.D.?"

My eyes widened.

580 A.D.?

We did not even us A.D. to measure an era.

It was the year 10,000 A.Z.

I had no idea what A.D. might have been, but it meant I was at least 580 years in the future...

The expression on my face must have been ridiculous, for Ozzie blabbered on, "Hello? Anyone in there?"

"This is a mistake..." I whispered.

"...Heh?"

"Have you ever heard of Zeal?" I blurted.

Ozzie stopped just long enough to think. Then he got tired of thinking. "What? Yeah, the word 'zeal.' You mean a place called 'zeal'? What do you mean?"

"It is..." Would he even understand? Or believe me?

It would be best to keep my time traveling nature a secret until I could assess how useful he would be to getting back to Schala and Alfador.

"You kinda trailed off there, kid."

I glared at him. "It is my name. Janus Zeal."

"...What is that, nagash? What kind of name is 'Janus Zeal'--?" His pudgy face turned a lighter shade of green, closer to a vomit color. "You're a human! Like, actually a human, I thought you were just a fae cub or something after you use magic-- You're a human that uses magic!"

"What are you, an Earthbound?" I spat, wiping my nose on my sleeve.

Ozzie got a gleeful smile on his face that I would learn to dread oh so easily as I got older. "You know, human, I think you should stick with me for a while. Mystics in these parts are nasty when they find one of you. So, better stick with ol' Ozzie until I can figure out how to get you back to your parents."

If I had kept my mouth closed, I would have saved myself from many of the things that were to come. But I proudly told him, "My parents are dead."

He stopped half-way through turning around. "They are?"

"I killed my father and my mother was killed by a monster years ago," I boasted, though no one in that era would have cared about two people long dead and forgotten in history.

And Ozzie saw that as an opportunity. His grin widened from reasonably smarmy to outright conniving. "Well then, little human cub, I'll take care of you! You won't have to worry about that..."

That was what my entire existence meant: Because I was human. I was not made for this life, for the cultures I was expected to know, for any sort of chance at surviving.

So if I was to get through this imprisonment in another time, I would need to remedy that.

Lavos had done this. That remained constant. Lavos had taken everything from us, and now he had gone further by ripping the Gurus and I away from Zeal.

I wore that with uncommon pride when I was young. Likely, Lavos saw me as a nuisance and barely even a thought, but having been banished with the Gurus, I thought that perhaps he also saw me as a threat.

Regardless if that was true or not, I took it upon myself to make it undeniably possible.

He had taken our kingdom, our mother, our ability to do magic without the highest level of skill or his permission. Now, to Schala, he had taken the Gurus and her brother as well.

Why did even Alfador have to suffer because of him...?

Even as Ozzie kept me as something of a human pet for years, the thought of Schala being alone to face that woman and her monstrous handler was so painful that I would dread sleep in fear I would bring those thoughts into my dreams and watch them for myself.

So I became more than resolute in my decision: I would take this opportunity away from Lavos's eyes and I would hone my skills. I could have become one of the greatest warlocks in Zeal if I seized the opportunity, and here I could become the greatest magic-user of the age.

Then, I would find a way to bring Lavos to me. I would slaughter him in a way so painful he might know the agony he put us through. And I would find a way to save Schala from whatever fate befell her in the Ocean Palace after I was gone.

However, I was a child in the land of fiends. It would be a game of patience. Something I was not taught well as a prince, even one not particularly favored by the court. But it would seem being under the watch of the Mystics would be excellent tutelage in that regard.

That day in the canyon turned into weeks of traveling by road. We could not stop in any human town, and I was not to make things simple for him as he dragged me along. Only we we reached the next continent did we find a fiend village. One where a particularly plucked fae cub in a red blouse was waiting for us by the docks.

As soon as he caught sight of my green captor, he shot to his feet, darkly staring at him from flaming eyes. "Ozzie! Where were you?!"

"Ey, quick your smoldering, kid, I just ran into a good business proposition," Ozzie had deflected, floating past him.

"A what--?"

I held my hand to push him aside. "Pardon me."

The fae watch me incredulously as I followed Ozzie's hovering body go over the gangplank into the tiny sailing boat. "Where did you find a cub?!"

"He fell out of the sky."

"..." He mushed his hands down his face. "I can't believe this."

"Did I pay your pops to believe me or did I pay him to have you take us to and from Westcape Port?" Ozzie shouted, ducking under the mask and hovering over one of the three available seats (the fourth was missing, as if someone had ripped it out and thrown it overboard). "Come on, my feet are tired!"

"Not using your feet does make them sore," I mumbled pointedly.

"Hey, didn't ask for you to talk, pipsqueak."

I folded my arms and sat down next to him, biting my lip shut as his meaty hand shoved the hood lower on my head.

"Fine. Whatever you want, Os Born," the fae muttered, clicking his shoes so hard against the gangplank I wondered if her would fall in. Instead, he jumped in the boat, tossed the gangplank in after him, and began undoing the ropes to set sail. "Why does he still have his human disguise on?"

"..." Ozzie shoved the hood down even further, just enough that he wouldn't see me roll my eyes. "No he doesn't."

"I'm not blind," he snapped, taking a moment to tie his long hair out of his face. "There aren't that many human lookalikes near Truce. What is he, any imp? He's short enough to be one."

"I'll explain after we get going."

The made the fae stop any preparations. "What did you do?"

"I don't have to tell ya. Be glad your father and I get along or I wouldn't tell you anything."

"Fine," he exclaimed, releasing the tethering line with fervor.

I clutched the splintered edge of the seat as the boat rocked away from the dock. The fae grabbed a large stick by the third seat that I assumed was for steering and snapped his fingers. The anchor rope spun in its wheel so quickly that I thought the anchor would crash into the boat, but not collision ever happened, and soon we were gently on our way out of the port city.

He spun a measly fire spell, one that I should have been able to do excellently by my age, and tossed it into the air, using it to press us forward at greater speed.

So there was magic in this era...

Perhaps I would need to take a few extra steps to be the greatest warlock of this time, but it was still manageable.

"Okay, now Flea, I want to introduce you two. I think you'll be seeing a lot of each other."

Flea (abhorrent name) looked down from manning the sails and let us go by the natural wind for a moment. "Great."

"But before you freak out, he can do magic, so it's fine."

"...Uh, I wasn't freaking out?"

"You might be soon." Ozzie's hand smacked the back of my head, knocking me into the side of my seat. "Go on, kid, show him."

I wanted to make a scathing remark as petty revenge for the smack. But as it was, there had never been much need for any Zealot to learn how to swim, so I had no interest in learning by being tossed overboard. So, reluctantly, I agreed.

Flea did not seem impressed as he looked me over several times. Finally, he looked at Ozzie. "Does he need help with his disguises or something? The blue hair will make him stand out like he's from Porre. Even then, the weirdest they have are green and purples."

"He's a human. No disguise, that's just his hair."

Flea's jaw smacked onto the deck. The boat almost tipped over one side as he practically jumped onto the side. "Human?! You brought a human?! Why didn't you dump him in Westcape, it's a mixed town?! We can't bring a human to Medina!"

"Calm down," Ozzie barked, "he's a magic human."

Now he was just trying to torture the poor boy. "...Ozzie. Maybe you've been on your own for too long, but MAGIC HUMANS AREN'T REAL."

"This one is. Show him, kid."

I blinked. "Do you want me to kill him?"

"What?!"

"Nah, not that, just hold some fire for a second."

"I am a shadow elemental," I spat. "In case you forgot."

They both looked at me, confused. "Kid, shadow elementals can mimic all kinds of magic on the axis. Their whole thing is being able to shift between things to stay hidden."

Obviously, I had very little magic training. And what I did was mostly for lightning--as was expected of all royal children--and a little touch of fire as that was Mother's affinity. Shadows had always been with me, but only Schala and perhaps Melchior knew this.

So when Flea laughed, I had to remind myself that I had simply realized I had much to learn. I would not fall into anger, and I would not disintegrate him. "Okay, Ozzie, that was fun. How about you, I don't know, sleep or something? Obviously you hit yourself in the head over there and haven't gotten over it."

Ozzie's mold-colored eyes looked down at me with the same expression my former mother had used when she intended to have me stay up all night studying books of magic. "Kid. Now."

I squirmed a bit.

But, unfortunately, he was the one currently keeping my alive.

And if Flea could do magic, I had every idea that Ozzie was likely even more capable of it.

I had no real practice with magic, what I had done in the canyon was entirely reactionary. I tried to summon that feeling again, perhaps not so explosively.

There was a tug somewhat inside me. Not quite the pit of my stomach, not quite over my heart, someplace I could not find. But from it, I was able to pull the slightest flickering of shadows from my palm.

Ozzie and Flea both watched in awe as that tiny human gently cradled shadow magic in his hands for the first time.

I could scarcely believe it. Fully by my own ability, I had accomplished the most basic of spells. It was not even a spell that required chanted or the proper gesturing, but it was a spell nonetheless.

My first spell was to appease my captor and his accomplice so I would not be thrown into the ocean.

Flea was the first to speak after I had closed my hands, cutting off the spell. "...Holy--"

"Hey, hey, hey, not in front of the kid!"

"...shipwreck," Flea amended. "You're sure he's human?"

"Oh yeah."

"He's not a hybrid or something?" Flea looked at me. "Your mom didn't have a thing for sleeping with monsters, right?"

"Well, she did enjoy one monster," I mentioned. She practically worshiped Lavos. "But I think she always slept alone. What does that have to do with--?"

"Okay, shelving that one for a few years," Ozzie decided. "But don't you get it, Flea? I could train our very own magic human!"

Flea shook his head in shock, still unable to look away from me like I was a fascinating new animal in the menagerie. "Ozzie, this is insane...!"

"That's why I'm taking him to your pops as soon as possible."

"Oh-ho, that will be a trick!" Flea laughed, holding his hand over his mouth like a snooty court woman would.

"Flea's father Kiedis is an old friend of mine," Ozzie told me. "He's also one of the best magicians you could find. We'll see what he says, and if he thinks you won't melt from using too much magic, then we'll get to...the fun part!"

I did not enjoy the way his tone changed.

The journey to Medina was largely spent with Flea and Ozzie chatting about such things that I did not understand. There was talk of Guardia and the humans ad nauseam, and equally as much about this place called Medina, and other fiendish cities I would need to learn.

Flea, as it turned out, was reasonably close to my age, being only five years my senior. I was rather short for 10, and he was rather tall for 15, so he was a bit appalled that I was older than I appeared, but that conversation quickly changed into one about how his metamorphosis was progressing.

This seemed to be of importance to both of them, as Flea took on a much more pleasant tone and Ozzie seemed a bit more invested in what his friend's son had to say. I had turned a bit seasick at that time, which was entirely unfamiliar to me in practice but I had heard of something similar with those who were unaccustomed to flying aboard the Blackbird. I did know it must pass, but how long that would take, I had no idea, so I it took their conversation as the only distraction I had until my bought of illness had passed.

Evidently, this was something all Mystics underwent. Humans had a similar version in their teen years, but a fiendish metamorphosis was even more drastic on the body. Not so much as to be unrecognizable, but throughout their teens until they reached adulthood, they would grow into their more Mystic-related appearances. Usually augmenting their present attributes, their claws would grow longer, their scales would more thoroughly cover their bodies, most of them would grow taller, and after its completion, they would be considered adults by fiendkind. There being so many different races of fiends, this was how they determined if one had reached maturity.

That spiked a great amount of fear in my young mind.

Naturally, some species would remain similar in appearance to humans if they were born that way, but as adults, it would only be in uncanny similarities.

I was human. I would never undergo such a change. So it was more than likely that I would have to learn as much about magic as I could, and by the time people began to suspect I was not simply a "late-bloomer" as Flea was, I would have to leave.

All the more complications...

We were done several days by ship, possibly a week or two, I lost track by how the days and night blended together under clouds. Finally, we arrived in the outskirts of Medina in the wet season, leaving us to slog through the remaining weeks of the journey through mud and gruel until we arrived in that pub. Then, for another few days traveling in the cursed woods until we arrived at the fort.

It was not yet Ozzie's, that would come closer to my reign as the Fiendlord.

When I first arrived, it was more akin to a great stone coffin in shape, only a few stories high. After having been a prince in Zeal, I was entirely unimpressed by the homely and entirely practical designs.

The only joy that came from it was we had finally one day that shown sunlight through the clouds. I had almost cursed its brightness at first, so much time in the stormy weather and so little sleep to go with it had dulled its appeal, but it did break through the rain, and for that I did decide I would be alright.

Around the fortress was a dry expanse of training grounds and some small barracks, all of which were filled with fiends of sorts I had never even heard of in Zeal. Squadrons were practicing magic in marching lines or bearing their claws in practiced combat steps for their shouting commanders in front. And most of them appeared to be younger or just reached their mature age.

A few select of the older students were walking among the squads, instructing their leaders in what they should practice or roaring at the more incompetent of the grunts.

One such of those older students, some sort of taller, lankier version of the imps, caught Flea's attention as we were walking for the double doors of the fortress.

The fae smile became joyful for the first time since I had met him, rather than the usual mischievous smirk. Despite Ozzie's scolding, he ran toward the purple creature, his braid snapping against the wind. "Slash!"

I immediately wondered if I had been to harsh about Flea's name.

The purple creature, Slash, looked up from kicking in the knee of a smart-mouthed gargoyle cub, and smiled.

He moved as if to meet Flea halfway, but Flea had already bared down on him to through his arms around him. "Slash, darling, how are you?"

Though I very quickly learned that everyone was a "darling" except for Ozzie in Flea's eyes, hearing such affection used for the first time caught me by surprise.

"Just fine," he grunted, holding him at arms length to breathe. "When did you return? We received no word. Apparently our messenger got caught up in a skirmish in Medina and never made it through."

"Oh, we might have had a little hand in that," Flea admitted, cocking his hip to the side and twirling the tip of his braid with his finger.

Slash sighed, but could not stop himself from an impressed grin. "I thought we had discussed this."

"Aww, but darling, they were asking for it! Even the human got in on it, I had to!"

And suddenly Slash seemed very confused. "...Human? In Medina?"

Flea rolled his eyes and pointed behind in my general direction. "That one?"

Slash's pointed white eyes widened as he saw me. He started to place himself in front of Flea. "What is it doing here?"

"He can do magic."

"Magic?!"

"Kid!" Ozzie shouted from the doorway being held by two reptilian guards. "We're not waiting around for you to be a sight-seer! Get in here!"

I did not know if it would be appropriate to say good-bye to Flea and his compatriot or if I even owned them that much for spotting me, so I completely neglected to do so and went to follow Ozzie.

Fiendish architecture in 580 A.D. was far from the level I expected of it. Everything was entirely grey and square, having little personality other than the banners of honor or tribes' marks. The fiends were largely militaristic, having little interest in the finer things or the more delicate of crafts. That was reserved entirely for those among them who studied magic.

The goblin guards at Kiedis's door let us pass without so much as asking for our names, extending the slightest of bows for Ozzie as one opened the door for us. I felt their stares crawl along my back until we were alone.

The room was still about as appealing as the inside of a can, but as the Proprietor of Magic in the fort, that meant his laboratory was lined with shelves of heavy, worn books, and on every large table there were dozens of steel, magic artifacts, some fitting on the palm of your hand, others big enough to reach from the floor to the ceiling. They were not so sophisticated as those from Zeal, but the were the closest I had seen in this era to something that even reminded me of my home.

I stood in a bit of wonder, looking at the great knowledge of magic at my disposal.

This was what I needed.

I needed to know everything in that room if I wanted to prepare for fighting Lavos. And then I would need to learn even more, as much as the great royal mages who were felled by Lavos, and I needed to overcome even their knowledge.

It would be possible. I would make sure of it.

Somewhere in the library, someone snapped their book shut. "Ozzie, who is this with you?"

Kiedis had appeared from behind one of his great bookshelves, his pace even and measured as he came to us. He did look an awful lot like his son, being taller and slightly sturdier in build, but with the same lanky build and long red hair floating around his shoulders, though many of his features were hidden by a white outfit similar to Ozzie's.

"Good to see you too," Ozzie said. "This here is Janus. I want you to take a look at him."

Kiedis's sharp nose tipped toward me, and immediately back up. "Why is he in his disguise?"

Ozzie smirked, trying to play along with a game he had made for himself. "What makes you think it's a disguise?"

Kiedis narrowed his eyes at him. "Ozzie, his aura is powerful enough I sensed him before I sensed yours. Very sorry, cub. It's an excellently-crafted disguise. Other than the hair, that may make you stand out a bit to much."

"You're sure, Kiedis?"

"...I'm not in the mood for this today, Ozzie," he sighed, setting his book on the table. "What do you want?"

"Well, my friend," Ozzie began, floating to stand on his table and grandly gesture to me. "Janus here, actually is human. A full-blooded, dirt-picking human. But he can use magic."

Kiedis did not believe him. That much was apparent to both of us as we looked at Ozzie. "Are you trying to waste my time? Did something happen to Flea?? Where is he?!"

Ozzie held up his hands defensively before Kiedis could smite him with a stare. "Woah, woah, easy does it, Flea's fine! He's just outside hooking up with that purple guy he likes, or whatever they do for fun."

"Then what are you making these stories for?"

"I'm not! Janus is a human with enough magic in him to vaporize my entire squadron!"

I was not sure how to react to Kiedis's next expression. "You must be making this up."

"You can sense his aura just as much as I can," Ozzie reminded him.

"Where did you find him?" Kiedis's voice was suddenly much more analytical of me than I enjoyed. I had decided to try and stay in his good graces in the hopes of getting my hands on his books, so I stayed quiet, but a bit unsteady under his watch.

"We were about to move out of Truce Canyon, I turned my head and poof! He was just there! His parents are dead, so I think we have full reign of the kid."

"Do we?" he mused, coming closer. When he was just near enough that I started to back away, he knelt on one knee in front of me. "Is this true, little cub?"

I swallowed, watching embers burning in his eyes, but I firmly nodded and slightly bowed like how I would in greeting to a lesser house. "Yes, sir."

"Hmm... Well, you're certainly bred of finer cloth than most humans."

"He said he was a prince."

I almost found myself glaring at Ozzie. "That was a lie, sir. I stumbled on all of those imps and panicked, I did not want to be killed so I made the story up of being a prince so I would be held for ransom."

Kiedis chuckled. I relaxed a bit, hoping he believed the story. "Don't worry, little cub, no one will hurt you here. Though, we won't be turning you back over to the humans anytime soon..."

"Can you imagine him in a few years? He'd be the perfect candidate for any kind of spy mission, we could send him behind enemies lines in a fight, ooh, we could marry him off to someone and have him take over the kingdom--!"

Kiedis held up a hand and waved down his excitement. "You are getting ahead of yourself. But I think this boy may be useful for us..."

He stood, offering me a cutting smile, and looked at Ozzie.

"As the Proprietor of Security, I understand he may fall under your domain. However, if he survives the first year or two, I would very much like to train him up a little."

Ozzie's smirk was outright devious. "That's what I was hoping to hear."

As was I, though I could not let them know it.

Kiedis looked down at me one more time. "You understand, the fiends of this place are not so respecting of humans. If you wish to survive long enough to see your potential, you cannot go by that title. Otherwise, they may riot and kill you. When someone addresses you, from now on, you are a fellow Mystic, understood?"

Easy enough. "Yes, sir."

Then to Ozzie he said, "Do you think we will require any sort of restraints? Naturally we won't have him wandering around the premises freely in case he is some clever ploy by Guardia."

Restraints?

Ozzie shrugged. "I think he'll be fine in the holding rooms."

"Good. I'll inform anyone of importance of what has happened. Does anyone other than the two of us know about him? Just Flea?"

"And, uh, maybe Slash as well..."

Kiedris's eye twitched. "Well, I suppose the cub needs a combat instructor anyway. Slash will do."

The fae seemed pleased enough with this course of action and began to leave us behind.

"Oh, and cub?"

I looked up.

"'Janus' is too much like a filthy human name. See that you don't introduce yourself by it."

He closed the door behind us, the sound rebouding off the walls.

I spared a glance at a simmering Ozzie. "A good friend of yours indeed. Is that your best one?"

"Can it, kid," he hissed. "He's like that with everyone."

"Are you not both Proprietors? Or are you not actually the same rank?"

"You're really going to make yourself a pain, I can tell." He grabbed my arm and began to drag me from the room. "Let's get you get up in a room. Niiiiiice and cozy, just for you."

Ozzie provided the most basic of necessities by way of letting me keep my clothes, throwing me in a perpetually locked room in the fortress, and remembering that I needed to eat occasionally.

Other than that, most of my days were spent trying to peak out of the barred window for any sign of my next lesson. Kiedis became a somewhat regular in my life as my magic instructor after he had the blessing of the fort's higher leadership. Flea and Slash also continued to appear, with Slash having been told he would be my personal trainer and Flea was just there.

We were never "friends" in the loosest form of the word. Flea was always prepared to insult me and Slash seemed unbothered by treating me more severely than the other cubs as he knew I was human. Still, there was a certain camaraderie that came from being in the same training hall together for so long that I did begin to trust them when I knew their guards were down.

Naturally, having arrived at only 10 years of age and been thrown into a world so far from my own, I had little interest in much but survival at first. It was the same as it had been in Zeal, only now instead of having to hide any sign that I could use magic, I was burdened with having to unleash my power at any sort of notice, lest a shrieking gargoyle cry "human!" or Flea try to surprise me on the way back from my cell with one of the new fire spells he had learned.

Ozzie found himself needing to defend me much more frequently than he had imagined when he first plucked me off the side of Truce canyon.

Of course, there were select races of Mystics who had no small resemblance to humans, especially as cubs. Most of them were from the western continents where they were closer to human populations and had adapted to living in close proximity to them, or from towns for both humans and Mystics, such as Westcape.

I very clearly was not of the more notable sort as the fae or the hench or the nagas, or even among one of the many freelancer and outlaw tribes, so for several years, Ozzie was tasked with the wonderful burden of coming up with increasingly odd reasons for why I had yet to reach the age of maturing and start appearing a bit more of my kin.

When I had begun to realize what he was doing whenever he bumbled, "Hahahaha, yeah, kid's just a late bloomer. His ma dropped him on the head when he was an littler cub than he is now. It's why she lost custody to me. What do you mean 'I always wondered how they let you get away with having a cub'?! You see, any day he's gonna his that metamorphosis and I'll have him go to your little mud hole and wipe that smile off your beak!" I found it quite amusing, actually.

Flea had started bringing me stories of what Ozzie had claimed happened to me as a youngling in ever changing stories of my lineage. Among my favorites included being some sort of royal of an imp king in the Choras area, until Flea deemed it such a riot that I could not exit my room/holding cell without him pretending to bear arms and announce, "His royal Majesty of the Butt Head Peoples has deemed his new hour of waking to be 5:01! A new low for the great King of Choras!"

The boy never did mature once he reached his metamorphosis. It was entirely unsurprising.

So Slash would take him to the side and chastise him while he also tried not to laugh with him. I would pretend not to hear them as I grabbed our training rods from the arena wall and tossed one at the back of Slash's head. "We are here to train, Slash! Have fun together after we are through."

Slash would rub the back of his head and still have that too-wide grin on his face. "Whatever you ask, my lord, and it shall be done!"

Then they would both keep laughing until I had beaten them to the ground in any duel they challenged me to.

We lived far from any human civilization--save the few hamlets that the Greater Council of Mystics had allowed as part of a cooperative alliance with Choras--so there was no need for a human disguise on most occasions, but I became excellent at them in the eyes of my peers. By the time Kiedis accepted me more publically as a student, I had been congratulated on not being a spy and hence allowed some small access to the rest of the fort like any other cub. Around then, most other fiends at my age had completed their metamorphosis and were well on their way to being upstanding members of their communities, so they grew out of most of their human-like traits. Naturally, since I was human and would never see a metamorphosis, I began to appear even more strangely to the fiends than my prowess with magic had already accomplished.

So the years went on, and I always had the back of my mind considering my escape from the Mystics when I became too suspicious.

During my stay, I also found myself very competent at most combat magic offered to me. Growing up in the safe haven of the world, there was no need to explore combat of any sort, save for the guards, but they were far below our status as the royal family. Perhaps it was natural talent, but my dedication was all for the sake of slaying Lavos. I was a dedicated student of shadow magic, and any other magic I could get my hands on when our meager shadow library had been read multiple times over by me.

I became skilled enough by the time I was 16 years of age, I could easily best Flea in any arena of battle, even with the increasing amount of rules he would place to try and give himself the edge. Kiedis, though a powerful mage himself, was no combat specialist, so I had to turn to the unfortunate business of finding volunteers to practice with.

The idea of allowing even more people than I already had into my life was not appealing enough to try unless I was in desperate need of watching someone suffer, so I tended to practice magic on my own, but continued melee training with Slash. And it was around that time strange things began to make themselves known.

"You keep treating your sword like an axe," he hissed, shaking his head while he easily parried away my strike. "You cannot slice at your opponent like you're cutting down wheat. Swordplay is a balance of slashing," he suddenly stepped forward, making me stumble back to avoid his sword, and in that moment he managed to slice my sword into the ground. That smirk was back on his face..., "and thrusting.

I smarted as the bruise already forming on my hand while he picked my training sword off the ground to reset the dueling circle. "Is that all necessary?"

He kept walking away as I tugged at the lip of my glove. Flea raised an eyebrow at me from the side of the arena. "It is if you want to become a master of the blade."

I pointed my hand at the ground, sending a small bolt of lightning at his heel. He gasped in shock and beat his heel against the ground as if he could kick it out of his boot. Flea cackled as I used the opportunity to prove my point and sweep his legs from under him, sending him to the ground.

He gave me a disgusted look as I loomed over him. "What if I prefer to win?"

He snorted through his snake-like nose as I offered him my hand and pulled him up. "I thought you wanted to be a master at all combat."

"Oh, and I will be." I kept myself busy ripping the tie from my hair--which was well past shoulder length at this time--while he dusted himself off. "But come now, we all know I am not meant for the sword."

It was hard to tell if he rolled his eyes or if they only flashed for a moment. "Then how about you tell me-- Is your arm alright?"

I knew exactly what he was talking about and glanced at the pale grey patch of skin just slightly not hidden by my glove. It had been that morning...

As if it would do anything, I pulled on my glove tighter. "It's some sort of rash. I noticed it earlier this week."

"Do..." he glanced about and leaned in closer to whisper the next word, "humans, get grey rashes?"

I scoffed. "It was probably some sort of contaminant from being around fiends for so long."

"Or one of the spells you've been working on?" Slash offered.

"Shadow does not cause your skin to become grey," I reminded him. "Do you remember nothing from magic?"

"Darlings, what's going on here?" Flea asked, having hopped over the front seat to join us. The moment he saw the discolored portion of my skin, his nose turned up in disgust. "Ugh, what is that?"

"Magus is sick," Slash mockingly cooed, though it did not have the same bite that it usually would.

"What did you go and get sick for?" Flea chided me, holding a hand out. "Let me see it."

I swatted his hand out of my face. "I am fine. It's some sort of contaminant, it had no affect on this week's lessons."

"If anything, you've been doing better this week than usual," Slash agreed. "But that's really strange."

"Maybe your brother should look at it."

"I don't think Ferrer could figure out what's wrong with him since he's human." Once again, that world was just a whisper.

"There is nothing to be concerned about." I removed the glove entirely and let them see how it had infested along my hand and up my fingers, but otherwise did nothing else. "This is the entirety of my symptoms. Nothing more."

Both of them were not eased. If anything, they both seemed avidly more concerned for how much it had spread.

"Is you other hand the same way?" Slash asked while Flea practically yanked it off my arm to look at it.

I sighed, letting them fuss so I might find a way to resume training. Lavos would not care if I felt sick one day, I had no time to waste on a rash. "Yes, though it seems this one has progressed a bit faster."

"I mean, he could be okay. How big are human scales supposed to be?"

"What?"

Oh, they were playing a game, were they? Who can rip my hand off faster?

Slash nearly pressed my hand against his eye when we saw what might have been a few scaly patch along my knuckles. "Magus, humans definitely don't have scales."

I ripped my fingers away from his grasp. "No. We do not. That is why I am not concerned that it is something as idiotic as scales. No doubt whatever meal they served in the mess hall had something a human could not ingest, and I am suffering the consequences."

Flea's brow wrinkled. "That can't happen if a human eats human meat, right? They're had it before and you were fine. Green in the face, perhaps, but fine."

Slash shook his head. "No...no, we need to take you to see Ozzie. Right now."

"Can you both stop preening like overlord mothers?" I asked, shoving the training glove over my hand. "Let us resume. This has gone on long enough for something so innocuous."

"Oh, no, I'm not fighting you until we figure that out."

Fine, then I could goad him. "I think you may be trying to avoid another defeat."

"Hey, just because you're doing well lately doesn't mean you're not about to get really sick. And I don't have time to get some sort of grubby human disease when I'm scheduled to be deployed again in two weeks. We're taking you to Ozzie."

Before I could protest, I somehow find myself in Ozzie's audience chamber. He was quite proud of it, having been on the Grand Council of Medina for a year and already so respected as to get his own office.

He was hovering at his tall desk when I entered, continuing the one trait I had kept from Zealot court and offering an appropriate bow. "Lord Ozzie. I apologize for the intrusion. If you do not have time to meet, I am happy to excuse myself."

"Magus!" That was far to cheerful for me to leave this place quickly... "Of course I'm free for you, what's going on?"

Holding back a sigh, I reluctantly removed my glove. Admittedly, the pale patches of skin did appear somewhat like scales at the joints, but it was likely just some irritation. "Slash and Flea are concerned for my health." I don't know why they insisted I visit you and not Ferrer first, but here we are. "Could you please ease their nerves?"

For some reason, his eyes nearly fell out of his face, which had grown a slightly pale green. "Uh...I mean, sure? Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes."

"Nothing out of the ordinary?"

"No."

"How do you feel in training?"

"Perfectly fine. It's been a rather excellent week."

"Hey, that's perfect! Glad to hear it! So, uh..." He rounded his desk and opened his hands. "Do you want to talk about it at all? Is it bothering you?"

I gave him an incredulous look. "No, it is not 'bothering me.' I am seeking your blessing to return to the training arena, that is all."

"This is just to appease Flea and Slash?"

"I would not dream of wasting your," that is, my, "very valuable time with something trivial."

"You're sure?"

What had I just said? "Yes. I am sure."

"Oh. That's great!" He scratched at the back of his neck. "Honestly, I thought you would take it a lot worse than this."

"...Take what worse than I am?"

"The metamorphosis!"

"...The what?!"

"That's more of what I was expecting... Okay, do you want to sit down?"

The rash on my wrists felt like it was about to burn my hands off. "Ozzie. You need to explain what you are talking about. Now."

"Okay, if you're not going to sit, I'm going to sit." Yes, thank you, Ozzie, I'm sure all of us wanted to know you took a very long time picking out a guest seat and getting comfortable before we proceeded. "Look, you're, what, 14?"

"I am 16. Closer to 17, actually."

"Wow. I remember being 16, going on 17. And I remember it was a very confusing time." He nodded. "Yeah, a very confusing time."

"I am sure you had a horrible childhood."

"Look, my point is, you're at the age where you might notice your body is changing a bit. A lot! I want to make sure we have an open line of communication, one that you can always feel comfortable talking to me about that."

"...For what?"

"Anything! Any facts of life you might have as you get to this important stage of life. You're at the point where you're not a kid any more, and you're also not a man, and you might notice your body changing a bit. It's nothing to be ashamed of, everyone goes through it. So if you ever have any questions, please, I am an open book."

...I had no idea what any of that was supposed to mean, and that gravely worried me. "I appreciate your very unorthodox level of concern. It is making me concerned in return. So, I will ask this again, and I expect a full, well-executed answer with nothing left to interpretation: what are you talking about?!"

Ozzie slumped over in the chair. "Kid, you came in here showing those fists at me, I didn't start it! ...I mean, technically, yes, but you asked."

"That was one failed attempt at an answer. Would you like to try for two?"

"Did you really not notice? I thought it was pretty obvious because your skin it internally changing colors, and if I did things right, it has been for a week."

"That was twice. I am asking for an answer. You are allowed one more chance."

He stuttered over a few words before he spoke. "You were a late bloomer already, we were running out of time! I just saved you from being kicked out of the fiends, and this is the thanks I get?"

"That was three, Ozzie, do I have to call in Slash and Flea to get you to speak more coherently?!"

"Too many people were getting suspicious that you were human, I fixed that!"

"What did you do?!"

His voice turned dangerously low as he rose into the air. "Don't you dare raise your voice at me again, kid, or I'll have you kicked out of the fortress so fast you'll leave your teeth behind."

As much as I would have loved to explain how if he laid a finger on me, I would see that he left his skeleton behind when I threw him out, he was on the Great Council now, and I would need to respect his authority or I would suffer greater consequences. Through gritted teeth, I let him continue. "Proceed..."

He released a long, quiet breath that may have been from fear, or it may have been frustration. The light in his eyes was back to normal soon enough, but his tone was dangerously measured. "You're one of, no, the best magic user we have, kid. But both you and I know that at some point, when you didn't grow out of your human appearance, everyone was going to get suspicious. I wasn't about to let you get carted off to be burned alive, so I figured out a way you could stay. I got you your very own metamorphosis."

He gestured towards my hands.

I nearly felt sick.

"You're welcome."

"'You're welcome'?" I had to physically restrain myself from shouting loudly enough for the other councilors to hear me. "...What sort of magic is this?!"

"Medicinal stuff, not in your line fo study," he explained, floating back to his desk, but never taking his eyes off me. "I knew you wouldn't approve cuz honestly, your sense of self-preservation seems to be 'I'll beat myself up to live' and that freaks everyone out. If I offered you the choice between trying to pretend you're human and giving you the literally perfect solution, you'd go with pretending to be human and be proud when you had to kill half of us to get out of here alive. I don't want that for you."

"So you decided to poison me with a fiend disguise."

He began to rummage through the drawers of his desk. "No, it's not a disguise. It's your own--ugh, here it is."

A bottle appeared in his fleshy fingers. It was innocuous, a tin vial with a cork that rattled with liquid when he shook it.

"A metamorphosis made for a human."

The world began to tip sideways.

Ozzie's voice was coming from farther away, from somewhere in a long tunnel. "It's the permanent solution to making you one of us. Like, making a half-breed but starting with a human canvas. By the end of it, I mean, you'll still be similar enough to a human you can pass if someone has really bad lighting, but you'll look like a full-blooded Mystic. It's all really scientific, you can ask Kiedis if you want the details."

I wanted to take that bottle from him.

I wanted to take it and smash it into his head.

"Why would you do this?" I hissed at the ground. But he needed to understand that I would not stand for this kind of trickery. "You forced control from my life to take something else? Even my humanity is something you are willing to rob from me?! What else am allowed for myself? I am still allowed to breathe, yes? Or does that also have a price?!"

"Kid, you don't get a say in this. In case you forgot, I own you!" he reminded me. "When I took you in that day, you belonged to me! The only thing keeping you alive is you can use magic and that's useful to me! Your human look was important, but keeping it is starting to threaten me! So I will do what I need to secure my interests and you will help me do that if you like it or not!"

"I owe nothing to you," I warned him. "I could kill you where you stand and I would feel nothing for you."

"Somehow I doubt that. That might get you kicked out, and you don't want that. I don't want it either!"

"You told the council the reason I should be kept is because I was a human with magic and that would be valuable to them. Now what use to them am I?? They could exile me with no reason to keep me!"

"You're the most talented magic-user in our ranks, they'll want to keep you."

"My appeal to them is gone if I become nothing more than another foot soldier."

"You were planning on leaving as soon as it got to strange that you weren't maturing like a fiend. You're not stupid, Magus, don't pretend we are! That's just like you humans, to assume the Mystics are just monsters you can play with until we don't suit your interests."

I spat, "According to you, I may not even be human anymore, so what argument do you have?!"

"I don't get why you think this is a bad thing! Sure, there are some cosmetic things that changed, but haven't you noticed any improvements since I started hiding this in your food?"

"My, we really are coming up with wonderful ways to move this conversation along. How long have you been poisoning me?!"

"I've been getting you on the stuff for a week. Which you've said is the best week you've had in training in a long time!"

That...was true. Physically, evidently the effects had been somewhat useful, though that did not excuse them.

Ozzie seemed to have another wind at my lack of response. "Don't you see? You're plenty strong for a human, even pretty strong for a Mystic, but with this..."

He held the bottle higher.

"Magus, this could change everything for you. You can stay at the fortress, keep everything you've been working for." He tried to chuckle a bit as he gestured at the fortress around us. "You can have everything you've ever wanted. All you have to do is complete your metamorphosis. And you'll only be stronger for it."

...

"That's all you ever care about. You want to get strong. You want to be the best version of yourself. And I want that too. Finding you got me to the Council of Medina. Imagine what we could do for each other if you keep going."

...

Ozzie shrugged, setting the bottle on the desk. "It's up to you. I didn't think you'd freak out as much as you did, which is pretty ironic considering how you came in here, so I'll give you the choice. You can think about it! How about that? I see that 'I must be mean to Ozzie' look in your eyes. You go ahead and think about it. Talk it over with Flea and Slash if you'd like. Kiedis is already on board, so you can see what he has to say. I'll gift you this one choice."

...

The cries of Lavos were echoing through my memories. The ones trying to wash away the sound of Schala's voice as I'd fallen into the portal.

He did not rest. He would not care if I were human or if I were fiendish, or if I was some disgusting combintaiton of both through Mystic curses.

He would live, I would live, or we would die together.

I preferred to stack my chances in a way where fate would let me see Schala happy again.

My life was never meant to have value. It was a means to an end. So did it even matter what sort of person I appeared as while I lived it?

The only thing that mattered was that I became strong enough to kill Lavos.

And in fact, this may have been a blessing. A new way for me to learn the strength of the Mystics as well as the humans.

"I will allow you to proceed."

Ozzie nearly popped his head off his shoulders with how quickly he looked up. "You what?"

Not allowing myself to think about what I was losing to this mysterious curse of a fake metamorphosis, I repeated. "I want you to complete your experiment. Let us proceed."

"Uh, well, you see--" He coughed. "You're sure? We've never actually done this before, there might be some kinks in the system."

"You lecture me for not wanting to partake, now you lecture me for choosing to. Give me the vial, I wish to complete this."

Ozzie was taken for words for a moment. Not something he was accustomed to. Usually there would at least be some kind of gibberish trying to hop out of his mouth. But eventually, he snorted, shaking his head. "You amaze me, kid. And scare me."

He held the bottle up for me to take. "This was going to be today's dose. You can have it now if you'd like."

I crossed the room the rest of the way, eyes tentatively flying against the plain metal surface as I took it. My hand shook as I removed the cork, making sure I remembered the pale grey patches of scaley skin a week of this concoction had mutated onto my flesh.

I did not even hesitate and drank the vial.

It was not a fast process, though painful. Many nights saw me vomiting blood onto my room's floor, and just as many saw me desperately scavenging for any blood stored in the kitchens until my face was stained red and this new, brutal hunger was satiated.

Even a normal human child in those years would be difficult to control, but I often became entirely reclusive during the day for fear of how the sunlight burned on my skin at times, and still at others the nights were worse as I began to notice every sound from every room in the hall.

I woke up with scratches near my ears on multiple occasions from trying to quiet everything in the middle of the night. And just as many on my lip as I struggled to remember, like my hands, a few of my teeth had grown and sharpened into the fangs sported by so many fiends.

Slash and Flea became particularly nervous during training sessions during those years. While they had completed their metamorphosis years ago, they had known of my lineage, and that I had allowed Ozzie to use some sort of new curse to change me into something almost unrecognizable. Something much stronger than either of them, in both magical and physical strength.

In two years, I had, essentially, become the fiend expected of all who knew me, except the people who knew me well. I was still very much human, but very much a fiend, and I relished the power that came with my new form.

More than a decade later, as I stood in the brig of the Black Omen, examining the claws the queen thought were her own creation, I remembered this.

I remembered that this had been my choice.

And I may have made the wrong choice...but it was mine to make.

What consequences they brought, I brought with me.

If the queen thought they were a curse from Lavos, I would exploit that misinterpretation.

In the early morning hour (or whatever that passed for on this prison), I was awake, hovering an inch above the ground as I muttered a spell under my breath, practicing the spells I had managed to scrape enough magic to cast while I waited for the sound of flapping wings to properly wake me up.

They arrived shortly after. I snatched the fire out of the air and snuffed it in my hands, silently moving back to the shelf I was growing more tired of than rested in. The door was nearly pounded into a pulp a moment later.

When the captain flyclops entered, I was perched on my makeshift bunk as if this were just another morning of experimentation and torture. "Her Majesty wishes to see you."

I leaned my head against the wall, gesturing my claws idly with my arm over my knee. "Can she not come here for once? I tire of memorizing the layout of the hallways for my escape."

The flyclops narrowed their eye. "Get up."

Well, it seemed I had no choice.

I let them bring me down the same corridor as before, half-heartedly tracking where we would be in the Ocean Palace by the blueprints carved in my mind after so many hours of pouring over them.

The Queen was waiting with the Mammon Machine again, her mutants already at work as its slaves.

Her smile was too cheerful as we entered.

...Something had gone wrong.

"Prophet, how wonderful to see you again."

"It seems I am the only person you are seeing on this ship," I groaned.

"Hm, yes, well, enough with the pleasantries."

My eyes narrowed on her as Moonfell appeared in her hands.

She nimbly ran her fingers against its hilt. "You have a lot to tell me."

The Mammon Machine roared to life, spilling red light into the room once again.

The flyclops scattered, finding their own places to hide in the room, and leaving me to stand before Queen Zeal.

The Mammon Machine protectively hummed over her as she watched me straighten.

She should have known the danger she was in when she had the chance to escape it...

The Mammon Machine might have granted her mercy for being such a good pet. I, on the other hand, would not extend any favors.

And, sadly, this expedition had yielded little fruit of interest since my arrival as a prisoner.

Sparks and embers clung to the crystals of ice forming between my fingers.

Yes...

I think it was time for me to escape.

********

I am ashamed to admit I was...not as impressed with the city of Porre as I had expected.

Perhaps I should have kept my expectations to a different standard, and this is a different time with different peoples who lived in it, but having grown up in the magic Kingdom of Zeal, a city was a grand, glorious expanse of rounded spires and gilded arches. Every wall was a canvas for a master craftsman's wildest imaginations, every eave the most daring of an architect's mathematical prowess, every window was a stage for the most renowned of society to gaze upon our fair lands as one might watch the summer clouds.

I could remember every stone smile, every delicate crinkle next to the eye of the statues that watched over the gateway to Kajar. Enhasa was the birthplace of dreams themselves, basking in the beauty and power of one's imaginations.

And Porre...was very charming, of course!

Perhaps I had been to eager to see something more reminiscent of home. The one that had likely rotted to sand somewhere in the oceans by this time...

I felt awful for the grim expression on my face as we passed through several towns, each of them taller and more refined than the last, but Frog would always follow up my questions of "Is this Porre?" with, "No, no, this is one of the outer districts. We will arrive shortly."

"Schala tired?" Ayla asked, cuing a startled glare from the cat on my shoulder. "We get ride?"

She pointed to what appeared to be a rudimentary carriage. It was made mostly of wood, painted black to match the reins stringing the shaggy horses to their driver.

I felt my lips purse just slightly at the idea of riding it something so homely in appearance. "No, it is alright. I am of no significance here, and not worthy of what little I have in my own lands after what I did. I should be used to walking."

"Do not speak of yourself so darkly," Frog chided me. "We are all of equal mistakes in our own merit."

Equal of mistakes?

Sir Frog, what mistakes could you have made that equaled to failing to stop the greatest evil of your time? From letting those closest to you fall to a darkness you alone were capable of stopping?

I held my smile firm. "Yes, of course. But I should still walk. Walking should be the barest minimum of my skills if we are to stop Lavos."

Than shortly had turned into several hours of passing through the outer districts of Porre. Until we finally crossed from the barren, dirt roads to gravel, and to a cobblestone street.

It bloomed into plazas and throughways cluttered with coaches and horses. Pointed tudor roofs and worn wooden signs held themselves high over the little shops with old women shouting prices inside. A set of old men in rocking chairs smoked short pipes outside bakeries and trinket shops. Tanning shops and silversmiths, dye shops and banks, even buildings that housed fine jewelry from other lands I had yet to discover all mingled on the streets. Up ahead were rows of stalls that seemed to be practically spilling with livestock and spices and all manners of strange items I had yet to understand.

A couple of children chased a cat right in front of us, earning a hiss of disapproval from Alfador.

I chuckled to myself and went to sooth the hair raised on his back.

The air was so thick with people I began to worry that they may question the likes of the three of us, especially with the scythe across my back and the sword at Frog's side. But we all seemed to be so thoroughly surrounded that instead of a notable abnormality, we became a quick glance. I wish we had been a bit more notable for how I was bumped and scolded for simply trying to follow the others, but I was used to keeping my head low and my face apologetic.

A cart of apples nearly ran over our heels, and Ayla practically set a curse on the farmer, who returned her fist shaking for his own. Frog called her back as she stomped a few paces ahead while I tried to pinch back a chuckle.

No, this was not a city of great beauty, and seemingly not one of great sophistication either. But it was rather nice to see a place that had not know the bloodshed of Zeal. Where one might be upset at a simple thing as an apple cart.

If I had wanted to maintain the idea that Porre had only known peace, I should not have turned my head.

The first stall we passed to our left was selling what seemed to be strange dolls of some sort. Green and blue creatures that wouldn't reach my waist, all of them with eyes closed and rather flattened appearance. As if someone had removed the stuffing and let them out to dry on the hooks over their stalls. There also seemed to be doll arms and legs for sale, and strangely red pieces that did not match the green and blue of the strange toys.

"What strange ways children must amuse themselves here..." I mumbled aloud.

Frog must have been more alert than I anticipated, so as soon as I had mused that to myself, his eyes darted for the stall. His complexion might have turned even a touch darker. "Despicable they would have such things sold in the streets."

I looked down at him. "A toy?"

Now he looked at me with confusion. "Those are not toys."

I looked back at the collection as he hurried his pace deeper into the market. "Then what--?"

They were corpses.

The bodies of Mystics...? For sale in a market...?

Even if Zeal, where the Earthbound were little but fodder for my mother's might, we had no such quarrel with the Mystics that would lead to that sort of depraved display!

My stomach began to roll again. I quickly caught Frog and Ayla as they were walking. "Why would that be there?"

"Where?"

"She saw a stall selling imp meat," Frog explained to the woman.

Ayla's face darkened as well, upset she had wasted her efforts on an apple cart.

"Imps are Mystics, yes? We saw them in the wilds as we came from the time gate," I remembered.

"They are also a delicacy in Porre. Few humans of this land remember that the dead of their enemies are still the be honored as the dead. And the fiends see human flesh no differently." He apologetically looked at me, trying to be gentle when he could not be reassuring. "It is an old practice now, outliving us for generations. Who knows who may have started it?"

"But I can imagine that having been both human and appearing as a Mystic, you do not find it in good humor," I noted.

His expression was grim, turning towards the rest of the stalls. "Even more so than before this curse."

"In Ayla time, enemy is soldier. Soldier do what Azala say. We eat monster, Reptite should rest at death."

A ribbit echoed from Frog's throat. "But let us not dwell on that sort of thing. We came to find the sundries and potions stand. Unfortunate it must be on a market day, they shall certainly be lost in the folds. Keep your eyes fixed for them, the both of you."

A pale face popped over one stall as we passed. "You there, you look like you could use some of Becklnore's cat food! The little darlings can't get enough of it!"

Ayla laughed and said something to Alfador in her own tongue, pointing at the cat food stand. He seemed less than impressed.

"Shipments of the finest wood carvings and carpentry tools from Choras! Just off the boat an hour ago! You'll find no better quality!"

"Cyrus would say it should all be rotted with seawater if it came from Choras," Frog slipped to both of us, smiling at something. "He said the best place to experience Choras was in Choras itself."

"Sugar dates! Sugar dates and figs! Sugar dates and pistachiooooos!"

I might have liked to have gotten a few pouches of such things, the pods roasting in the pots smelled rather wonderful, but Ayla called for me from where Frog was talking to a man behind the counter. Alfador seemed to groan my annoyance for me a we passed on the food to join them.

Though I didn't pretend to have much training in the fine art of haggling Frog was now engaged with, I did appreciate the stop for the simple fact that it allowed us a wonderful view of the docks and the sea. And the stench that wafted from it... But we had so few boats in my time because of how dreadful the sea was. They were a strange mix of sails and tall metal towers that had trickles of steam in them, and large wheel were pressed to their sides as if they were expected to drive over the sea like coaches over land. Perhaps not so dignified as the Blackbird, but rather wonderful with the rest of what I had expected in Porre.

"Tickets to Dorido! Last call! Tickets to Dorido! One stop at the Magic Cave Peninsula and then straight to Dorido!"

"Boats are so interesting here."

Frog looked over his shoulder as he was taking some coin out of his pouch. "When we have a chance, we must show you the ones of Chrono, Lucca, and Marle's era. These steamships are relatively new. They have entire fleets of them that constantly carry people between the continents."

"How marvelous! One could travel over the world as efficiently as if they had magic!"

"Perhaps. Excuse me a moment, Schala. You can do better than that! This is armor from...Guardia! You can tell the quality!"

The shopkeep shrugged, moving his pipe to the other side of his mouth. "I'm sorry, froggy, but after the Hero beat Magus, we have a surplus of our own soldiers turning in their armor for my coin. We don't need your Mystic spoils too. 1,500 G is the best I can give you."

Frog grumbled something, and I took that as a moment to keep to myself. Ayla sent a look at the shopkeeper before telling me, "Ayla go look for better man to get Frog money."

"Mreow."

I snorted. "Alfador and I would agree."

Ayla grinned. "A alo cha, Alfador. Hahaha!"

She stalked past us and went into the road, shouldering past a few people as she went but most were wise enough to stand aside for her.

"Come one, come all, to the Tale of the Legendary Hero!"

I glanced towards a tiny little stage from where the woman had shouted beside it. Instead of actors, there were a handful of puppets held up on the little stage by people crouched behind the small setup. A good smattering of people had already gathered around the little theater.

Frog seemed in no hurry with his deal-making, so I took a few steps closer.

The loud woman smiled grandly at all of us, as if she was not in an old, brown dress and she was not before a crowd of grim-faced townspeople. It was almost entrancing as she dramatically held her hands forward. "It began over 10 years ago, just after the start of the great war! Magus and his fiends had raised their unjust fury against us and attacked! The great evil of so many legends who would threaten our peace and our homes! And so, we needed to call upon our hero..."

Ah, this was the story of Magus!

I shuffled closer, whispering an apology to a startled Alfador, knowing I couldn't dare to miss any word. This may be how I found some hint to Janus!

Two puppets, both in knight armor appeared in front of a paper mountain. "Sir Cyrus the Great! The one blessed with the Hero's Medal that he won from the Frog King with the aid of his trusty squire, Sir Glenn. And because he had the Hero's Badge, he was filled with the inspiration to find the only weapon that could destroy the Fiendlord. What was that called?"

"The Masamune!" a handful of children called out of chorus.

"That's right, the Masamune. The legendary sword lost to time. But not for Sir Cyrus. He and Glenn climbed the great Denadoro Mountains, killing any Mystic in their way." The two puppets began to climb the mountain, hitting the Mystics with their wooden swords until they reached the top. "They found it hidden in the highest mountain cave. But it was being guarded, by a horrible monster!"

A new puppet of a miserable furry beast with paper fire in its mouth popped onto the top of the mountain.

The crowd leaned closer.

"The battle was fierce, with the fate of the brave knight and his squire being the only way we could get the Masamune and restore peace." The human puppets began to attack the monster puppet, causing quick the gleeful stir among the children. "They stood firm and fought with all their might, as a true knight should. In the end, their valor let them defeat the monster! The Masamune was theirs!"

There were small cheers from he young ones as the monster fell behind the paper mountain and the puppeteer exchanged Sir Cyrus's wooden sword for one painted silver. The adults watching were more grim-faced, seemingly having heard this story before and knowing what would happen...

"However, their quest was not over... As seen as they left the cave and were about to go back down the mountain, the Fiendlord Magus appeared in a bolt of lightning and fire, his henchmen Ozzie at his side"

Two new puppets descended on the seen. Everyone booed at the appearance of the green creature in white robes. And even more so when a fanged fiend with wings and spines appeared with a dark cloak and a long scythe.

...Surely they were not serious.

Perhaps he was no conventionally dressed, but why would they make Magus look so much more terrible than he truly was? It was as if they had never seen him before!

Someone brushed against my arm. Frog had finally returned from trying to barter for a better price. "I hate to interrupt," he whispered, glancing at the show. "If you like, I can find Ayla and you may continue to..."

"Sir Cyrus and Glenn charged into a brutal battle that last from dawn, til, dust, til dawn again! Sir Cyrus fought to defend his kingdom and his friend, and so he would not let the Fiendlord take the Masamune!"

"Cyrus...?" Frog looked at the puppet of Cyrus as if he were looking at a ghost. "We should be on our way. We must still find Ayla and discuss the gate locks with you--"

"So when Magus struck the finishing blow, Cyrus knew he would not fall, at least until Glenn was safe. He threw himself before a blow that was meant for Glenn...! And so, the Fiendlord felled the Hero and Glenn fell from the mountain cliffs into the waterfall. But even the fiends were so impressed by the bravery of the men that we heard trickles of the story from those who lived in the mountains, and now we can tell this story to you."

The crowd fell silent, bowing their heads in respect. Frog continued to stare ahead. Seeing something entirely different than the paper mountain and the play swords. Nearly too quiet for me to hear, he said, "No, that is not so."

"However, that is not how this tale ends! Years passed with no hope for us all with the Masamune lost and no hero to be found. Then, not long ago, a new hero appeared! A man who had rescued Queen Leene from the clutches of the Mystics with the aid of human and fiend alike. A man known as Sir Chrono!" Cheering erupted as the dead puppets were pulled off the stage and a new one with red hair stood proudly in front of the mountain. Frog and I were the only ones to not feel joy at the sight of the young man... "He found the Hero's Medal still clutched within the hands of Sir Cyrus and felled the monster guarding the Masamune once and for all!"

Two puppets that I suppose were meant to be Marle and Lucca (though, admittedly, the quality of Lucca's design may have actually meant the puppet was supposed to represent Robo) joined Chrono's and fought the monster again, pushing it off the mountain and into the back of the stage. Chrono took the Masamune as the story continued.

"With the Masamune and the Hero's Badge, Sir Chrono and his friends bested the Magic Cave, where the fiends crossed from their cursed country into our homeland."

The Magic Cave? That was the way to his keep?

"The fighting was fierce and bloody, but they soon stormed Magus's Keep." As Chrono and the other fought through the cave, the mountains changed into a dark castle with Magus on top it as a perch. "Now, not a soul speaks of what happened that day, but we know that a great battle must have taken place. Lightning flashed in the keep, screams were heard throughout the night, a mighty earthquake shook the land! By morning, the Fiendlord was no more!"

Paper lightning fell over the stage as the castle shook. The audience clapped again as Magus's puppet fell, with Chrono's standing over it with the Masamune in the air.

"Sir Chrono and his friends became heroes of the land, blessed by Sir Cyrus himself! King and Queen Guardia made them official Knights of the Square Table, and though they were offered positions as part of their own personal guard, the highest honor for any knight, they all declined, choosing to find every last minion of Magus that would threaten our peace again. True warriors of peace and of hope for all time!"

The applause grew louder from the little crowd while the children puppeteering and the woman stood in front of the stage for a little bow. One of the children took off their dirty cap and flipped it over for people to put their coin.

Frog had hardly moved, save for gripping his sword even more tightly.

I had been so close. So, so close to finding a clue about Janus. Yet all that had given me were names I wasn't familiar with and a story that was likely only as true as the depictions of the villains. Perhaps, the depictions of its heroes as well...

I looked at my cursed compatriot as the crowd dispersed. "...Frog. Might I ask, who was Cyrus?"

He blinked, but did not return. "A dear friend. And the greatest man I had ever met..."

The stage was being reset for another show, the woman shouting at the children to pick up the puppets from the dirty market street. The green-haired doll of Glenn caught my air as the child carelessly toted it back to the stage with a pout.

"...Is your true name Glenn?"

"..." He swallowed. "It used to be."

My heart swelled with sorrow for him. "I see."

"..." He was nearly ready to break off the hilt of his sword.

He had not died as the story said. He had lived and no doubt fought alongside Chrono to defeat Magus. Not only for his home, but also for his friend and the life he had lost. The person he had become was all because of Magus.

...Unfortunately, that would mean that if I needed to make peace with someone whom Magus knew, it would be safest for me to keep my interest in the Fiendlord to myself.

Alfador mreowed impatiently in my ear.

Dwelling on such a twisted version of the tale probably would do no good for Frog or myself.

I cleared my throat of the tightness stifling my voice.

"You mentioned something about...gate locks."

That caught his attention, startling him from his thoughts. "Yes, we must discuss the gate locks. We should have sooner, but you understand the complications of everything at the moment."

"Of course, of course, do not worry yourself," I insisted, starting to step away from the stage. I did not know where I was going, but I knew it best to keep walking when you began to think too much of what was happening around you. "What is their purpose?"

Frog followed beside me, starting to look for where Ayla had gotten to as he regained his composure. "You know of Lucca's gate key? She invented these 'locks' to work in tandem with it."

By the time we had walked past two jewelers and a cooper, he had thoroughly rummaged through one of the pouches on his belt and then presented something for me. In his gloved hand he held what looked like a large pendant removed from its string, or a large, circular device. It was made of a cheap metal and bestowed with a jagged crystal crimped into the pocket in the center. There possessed some rough charm to it, as if a blacksmith's first attempt at a fine piece of jewelry in their apprenticeship. But the reverence Frog held it seemed to imply less of an admiration for its beauty, but rather a skittish awareness of what it was made for.

"This is my gate lock. Lucca will make one for you as well soon enough. They are what allow all of us to call for each other's aid without going back to the End of Time to pick us up." His eyes hastily glanced between my hands and the bauble as he offered it to me. As if it would bite me if I spoke too loudly. He assured me anyway, "'Tis not dangerous. Accustom yourself to it."

Alfador gave me a cold look as I reached for it.

The lock was lighter than I had expected, almost like it was hollow. The common green gemstone twinkled against the mid-morning sunrise, not garnering the same level of distrust for it from me as it had from Frog. I turned it over in my hands for some clue to its hidden nefarious abilities, but finding nothing but a slightly chipped back, I raised a brow at him.

"These devices respond to the gate key, which we would usually bestow on Chrono as he led the party..." We bowed our heads for just a moment. "Each of us holds one of these gate locks on our person at all times. When activated, they are used to transport us through time. Say Chrono wanted to call me while he was adventuring across the future wastelands. He would use the gate key to activate my gate lock, and I would be transported from where we are walking now to his side. And since we cannot have more than three travelers in one time, he would have to send someone away as well. Their gate lock is activated and they are sent to the End of Time, where they can wait for new orders or go about their business."

"That seems rather ingenious!" I exclaimed, having a bit more admiration for the medallion. "Why do you seem to fear it?"

A smile or a grimace twitched at his lip. "Lucca never quite figured out a way to send us a warning for when they would be activated. They sound a lone, shrill beep before you are taken to another time, perhaps with as much warning as a full second, but nothing more than that."

My hand clenched just a bit tighter around the gate lock, as if I expected the mere mention of its faulty warning system to yank me into another era. "Ah..."

"Mreow..." Alfador was even less impressed, kneading his paws into the collar of my robes as if he needed to make sure he was secure for any unexpected voyage.

"'Ah,' indeed. Robo has been offering improvements, but I doubt we shall have the time to let Lucca investigate a solution until she and the others return from their quest. Which reminds me." I hadn't noticed the new pouch he had been toting with us. It must have been from the merchant he had quarreled with earlier.

Inside was a slew of potions. Some tonics, some ethers, some glowing vials I didn't recognize but sparkling like light on a brook.

"Unfortunately, the goods here are not of the same quality as Zeal's," he paused by a quiet corner past the market and evenly split his goods three ways in the bag, "but should you be adventuring with us, it is best for us to make sure you are fully capable of healing yourself when Marle, Robo, Ayla, or I are not present to aid you."

I was offered ten of each type of vial, along with a single elixir from his private stores. "No, I do not need so many. You have spent hard-fought gold on them, and no doubt could--"

"I would rather see myself poor than you dead," he sharply corrected me.

I did not see how I was worth the trouble that it must have been to get these items, but I knew better than to ask and simply bite my tongue as I gently arranged the collection in my borrowed pouch.

"You would do well to mind the taste. In this time, we concoct these potions from that such as sap and rare stones. These are not of high enough quality to be pleasant on the palette, so you may have to grow used to the taste of leftover resin."

"I would not complain over such a gift, thank you." I tipped my head forward and clasped my hands before my chest without even thinking of it. "If I could ever pay all of you back for your generosity, please, tell me anything you desire and I will strive to make it so."

A short stream of air shot from his nose. "You are aiding us in defeating Lavos and finding our friend. Is should be us asking that of you."

Before I could correct him, Ayla shouted at us from behind. "Frog! Schala! Alfador! You went far??"

She was carrying a few extra things in her arms as well, though none of them were vials.

"I should say, where did you get off to?" Frog called back as she approached us.

Ayla juggled some sort of trinket back into her overflowing arms before it tumbled to the ground. "Ayla find better armor trade. Get more gold than Frog. Get good stuff!"

Half of the supplies in her arms were thrown into mine, making me teeter towards the cobblestone curb. She hopped into the air and landed with her legs crossed, smiling proudly as she assembled her share on the ground. I looked at Frog for guidance, just as he reluctantly sat next to her.

"Schala sit." She smacked the stone next to her.

It was covered in dirt and grease, and surely with the number of carriages in the city a horse had left its...excrement there before. But Ayla took the cuff of my robes and pulled me next to her. The speed at which I was made to sit down made me very much regret that I had left the Aeonian Armor in the cursed forest. My scythe smacked into the stone so hard I nearly worried I had chipped the blade.

Alfador almost sighed as he removed his claws from the leather strap on my shoulder.

"Schala not know Frog time. Or Ayla time. Or any time but Schala time..." she seemed to consider that for a moment, but shook herself out of it. The piece of hide she'd given me was snatched out of hands and unrolled before my eyes as one might a delicate scroll. Ayla proudly smiled. "This map! Map show all places of Frog time! See?"

She started to point at different continents and towns much faster than anyone should have been able to follow.

"Porre village. Truce village. Chorus village. Guardia Castle (that Chief hut in Frog time). Magus Castle (that Reptite Lair in Frog time). Donadoro Mountains. Magic Cave. Many important place. You know all important place." She rolled the map again and handed it too me. I gingerly took it from her as she picked up some sort of pouch. Inside was a stick with a lump of charcoal wrapped around the top in tawny cloth. "This pen cell. Write painting with pen cell."

Then a book.

"Pen cell for book." She held it with almost a reverence. "You no have home now. Put home in book."

A painful tightness caught in my throat as she handed the notebook to me. I had to heavily swallow before I could even try to speak.

But Ayla was pulling the three last pouches towards her. "Ayla get good trade for all! No eat good on quest. No eat good, no strong. No strong, no fight Lavos!"

Frog took the bag she offered and carefully opened it. "...How much gold did they take for this?"

Ayla scoffed, blowing a few strands of blonde hair out of her face. she gently explained, "Schala no have good day. Maaaaaany bad days. When heart empty, gold no good in pocket, food good in stomach."

"I do not fall for the myth that one can eat themself out of grief," Frog chided her.

That knot twisted itself tighter in my throat.

"That is very kind of you, Ayla..."

She smiled, turning it briefly into a smirk for Frog, but gentle for me. "Have good food. Eat! Fun!"

I tried to grin a touch for her. It must have looked more like a grimace... So I kept my chin against my neck and slowly undid the straps.

A wave of smells plumed into the air. Inside was an arrangement of spiced jerky, roasted pistachios, dried fruits I had yet to learn the names of, and a king of flat, dry biscuits.

I could only name a few of the items within, but Ayla had gone to fetch something so thoughtful with her own gold.

It was practically, of course, just as this scythe was practical, or my armor was practical, but this was not the meager meal of a weary traveller. This was something Ayla took pride in as she watched a mix of a emotions overtake my face.

I pulled the strings tight, snipped off the smell. "You are too kind..."

"Ayla is not wrong. We rarely have time to replenish our stores, so you must take what you can with you," Frog warned me as he cupped a handful of jerky over his mouth.

"Then I shall take care to treat your gifts well," I told her, slipping her gifts into the pouch on my waist. It was starting to become a bit heavy. "Surely, there must be something I can do for you in return. You have been so uncommonly kind, I can do something."

They both leveled their eyes at mine, then to each other's, then back at mine. "No Schala gift in magic time?"

"Well, I cannot say I was deserving of many... After all, I failed to aid Mother with the Mammon Machine as much as she needed, and even when I saw it was a horrid ploy by Lavos, I did nothing to stop it so now my people a-are lost to the land of death..."

"...This is a different time. We should make merry while we can," Frog told me. "Such dark thoughts do not belong to us until Lavos is defeated."

"Frog good words." Ayla ripped open her bag and hoisted a fist of pistachios into the air. "We enjoy food! We enjoy friends! We use fist on Lavos! Good! Fun!"

I tried to join. "Yes. Fun."

Frog coughed a ribbit-y cough. "Is there anything else you might need us to explain to you?"

"Oh. Well, um--" I scrambled to find something in my new goods to question, pulling out the map. "Perhaps you can show me where the cursed forest is?"

"Certainly!"

He leaned across Ayla, grabbing her arm for balance as I held the map out to him.

Only for a horrid, screeching blare to ring against our ears.

It echoed on against the quiet storefront behind us as my face went slack and the others tightened into two forms of panic.

"Schala no panic, we be back soon--"

"Blasted gate lock-- Wait, Schala, you have my--"

Their expressions froze on their faces for a moment, and in a blink of blue light, they evaporated from the street.

"...Mreow?"

Alfador jumped from my shoulder into my lap. His nose nuzzled against my arm, which had reached for the pendant on my neck.

I blinked, watching the after image of their bodies fade from my eyes. "I...I am alright, Alfador."

He did not seem convinced. I began to scratch behind his ears with my nails.

"Forgive me, I must be getting your coat so dirty..."

"Mreow."

I sighed, hoping to feel a sense of calm over my body as my brother's cat paced on my knee. "They were summoned by Ayla's gate lock. It is fine. I will...get up. Find the cursed forest. And someone will be back."

He shook himself, freeing my hand from his fur so he could hop onto the dirty street. He set his curious, wide eyes on the map that had tumbled from my hands, and he settled comfortably on the piece like he meant to nap for a while.

"Alfie, no," I scolded him, pushing myself onto one knee. "We must be on our way."

His eyes were very awake and very much staring at me as I tried to coax him off with little nudges.

"We can find a better place to rest in the city. Let us get away from the markets at least."

He rolled over on the map, swatting his paw at it.

"No! No, you do not treat a gift so poorly," I scolded him, now putting my hands around him to pick him up.

He yowled in protest. A sound so rare from him that I dropped him back on his paws.

I leaned back on my heel, puzzled. "What is going on?"

My brothers cat looked at me with disappointment. Then placed both paws on the dark castle in the center of the map.

"...Magus's keep," I narrated.

Alfador, how intelligent for a cat, walked to the Magic Cave.

"...You think I should brave such a journey to a keep that belongs to the enemy of all we are among right now?" I whispered, as if talking to a cat would not be strange enough without keeping my voice low. "You saw the story as plainly as I did. They may well torture us for trying to brave the journey. Frog certainly would not approve, and Ayla is his friend so she would not either."

"Mreow!" he seemed to shout, swiping at Magus's keep.

...Well, if was not as if Frog was here. It would take a day for him to get to Porre through the time gate.

There was no other obvious chance that I would have to explore on my own.

Porre was not going to provide a way to find Janus, and Magus's domain remained my best chance of finding him.

Perhaps, if Magus trusted Janus, he had kept him at this castle.

I would only need to present myself and find him.

No, he may yet be a prisoner. I must sneak into the Fiendlord's Keep and find Janus on my own--!

"What sort of foolish fantasy are you trying to fill my head with?" I asked. "I hardly know how to use magic for combat or a scythe for a weapon. What chance would I have for exploring the keep?"

Is that what you will lose Janus over? Fear of a fight?

I had already lost the greatest battle I had been a part of. Zeal was gone, my people were decimated, and Mother...was likely dead. Lavos reigned over us from the Black Omen.

I would not lose Janus as well!

"...We should be going."

He jumped out of my way as I picked up the map, rolling it back into a scroll and stuffing it into my rope belt. The my potions and log were stored in my pouch, and Ayla's bag of food would surely last me a good while if I was selective with how much I ate.

This was possible.

I might find him by tomorrow's evening light!

I offered my arms to Alfador, who, now pleased with my new course of action, hopped into them.

He settled against my chest, his warmth against my cold pendant while I adjusted the scythe on my back.

"That woman by the docks called for the last trip to Dorido, stopping at a peninsula named after the Magic Cave. We will not risk missing this opportunity."

********

One of the metal mutants looked up at us from the controls of the Mammon Machine.

"Yes, we are free to continue," the queen told them. "Proceed with activation."

The red light seared my eyes, but I did not feel in the mood to give her the satisfaction of covering them. "..."

"You have continued to deceive me." The Queen of Zeal tilted her head to the side. Pretending to contemplate something she already knew. "Or perhaps, you simply have not talked enough."

"..."

"Prophet, through the power of Lavos, I have discovered that you have, in fact, not been touched by his power. But rather, you suffer from an imperfect Mystic curse." She clucked her tongue. "Poor thing..."

Ah, she had finally noticed I had naturally pointy ears. How kind. "..."

"I cannot imagine the pain that must have put you through," she drawled, beginning to come closer. "What sort of awful creature would have done this?"

I assure you, Ozzie's tincture would scarcely hold itself upright next to the torments experienced by the mutants of Lavos. "..."

"Is that why you must always wear that hood?" she suggested. "After I had unwisely trusted you, I had wondered why you were never willing to show me your face. Even when I finally get to see you now, I admit, I had wondered if you were some sort of Earthbound breed I had not seen before."

An Earthbound with red eyes and grey skin? How high is your ivory tower, Queen of Zeal? "..."

"But after your first true moment of revelry with the Mammon Machine, I had hoped we found the way to bring you to an understanding with the rest of us. Imagine my disappointment when I found out that, no. You can still resist Lavos's power. And you already belong to someone else."

My breathing stiffened. "Regretfully, I must inform you that you are incorrect."

She laughed. "Oh, no, I do not think I am! You would vehemently berate me if I suggested you had changed your heart about Lavos, and you cannot deny that you have been quite thoroughly cursed."

My eyes narrowed before I could stop myself. "I. Belong. To no one."

"Curses are broken only by those who conjure them," she reminded me. "You may wish for me to phrase the terms of the contract differently, but you are a talented enough magic-user. Surely you know that the only ways to break a curse are to kill the caster or to find someone with great enough knowledge of curses to do so in their stead."

The memory of a particular frog came to mind. "..."

The queen of Zeal began to slowly circle the hall, idly using my scythe as he own guiding stick. "Now, as you have obviously been through so much because of this cruel curse, I no longer find it in my heart to try and torment your defenses."

"Ah, so you have not tortured me again because you do not think it will work," I concluded, a bit of amusement at the idea.

"I think it is possible. But Lavos prefers results with as little depletion of resources as possible."

My, are we not abounding in irony today? "..."

"However, since you possess knowledge we require, we cannot let you continue to take advantage of our hospitality without being repaid for it."

"..." The way she cared herself about the room, fully within a few steps of my reach, but entirely unbothered was enough to concern me.

My amulet would not repel a physical attack, and after having seen the mutations among the Zealots whom Lavos deemed loyal, it was abundantly clear that no level of harm was out of the question for an interrogation of one who had attempted to kill him.

Though I had barely gotten comfortable enough control of my weaker elements, I was half-tempted to begin muttering a basic attack spell.

That is, until the mutants at the Mammon Machine looked up at their queen, who was standing somewhere just past my line of sight.

They were asking for permission.

Queen Zeal seemed to consider if she wanted to speak anymore with a slight, "Hmm..." in her voice just barely enough to be heard. "Are you ready to continue this conversation?"

I neglected to understand why she had bothered to ask such a thing, as she did in fact continue.

Her voice sounded much closer as she spoke. "I find it rather merciful what he has decided for you today. Do not disappoint us."

If the red light of the machine had been enough to blind when I entered, it became unbearable to even stand in its presence without flinching. The entire room was blanketed in light as the robotic mutants prodded and adjusted the device, until they were hidden by the power being brought into the room.

When I held a hand to my face, it still managed to break past my eyes.

Then the red slowly dissolved the hall into darkness, making the machine, its attendants, everything from the floor to the ceiling, disappear into an empty void of shadows.

For a moment, I worried that something had gone wrong and I could no longer see, but the amulet remained dormant.

I could still see myself plainly, but not as if I was being illuminated from another course of light. Everything had simply hidden behind the obscurity by gloom.

"Good, you are not panicking so much as we expected..."

The queen's voice floating through the space, not coming from anywhere distinct in the room. I thought to turn around, to see if she was also visible to copy my own visibility, but I was alone for the time.

"We did not want you to think this was some sort of elaborate trap."

"It is the same room," I reminded her, though it was somewhat unnerving that it bore a slight resemblance to the portal Lavos had thrown me into as a child. "I might simply walk blindly to the machine and rip it out of the ground."

"So rude, and I had not presented our idea yet!"

"Have I not made it very understandable that I am not interested in the ideas of your sick minds? I could always do more to elaborate."

"Might you not guess for yourself, or have your oracle abilities vanished now that you have less reason to lie to me?" Her words echoed across the ceiling much more than they had before the curtain of this illusion had been closed around us. "Might I suggest you try to look forward once more?"

I had no interest in playing some sort of elaborate, poetic game, so I reluctantly held my tongue, only crossing my arms as I looked into the darkness.

As if waiting for my attention, the magic in the air congealed into something that at first appeared to be a path.

The path became a street, then a road, the one lined by buildings that stretched higher than most in Guardia.

Carts and market stalls appeared, some going so far as to be along the coastline at the bend.

In the distance, framed by the green mountains was a castle of a build I did not recognize.

Rather, despite how I had educated myself well on the great port cities of my era, this matched none, not even the way the coast was positioned made sense to be anywhere I knew.

It was as I noticed this that the place became inhabited.

Wisps of magic appeared from the darkness surrounding me that transformed into humanoid shapes as they were brought into the strange town.

They were bent and pulled into humans who carried themselves through the street as if I was not permitted to be present, but watching a normal market day of any city.

Other than for the fact that the entire street remained as indistinguishable as possible.

There were no names on any stalls, no distinct language, no symbol of a ruling house to mark signs as official businesses. There were places they might have been, but when I looked for them, the sounds dissolved before me and the images were just vague blurs.

Even as someone who was well-versed in the customs of two different eras, these were people of culture and cloth I did not recognize, as any features of their faces were foggy ideas, like dreams or vague memories.

As if Lavos had committed to this illusion, but saw that the identity of the people was not the focus of the scene.

Except for one.

There was a man so clearly notable among the rest.

He idly walked down the wide street, seemingly nowhere urgent to go and as much time as he wanted to get there. Unlike the other townspeople, his face was nearly visible, being defined in shape and color, only somewhat hidden in gold fog by the eyes. Still, there was enough of him that one could easily see the flippant smirk on his lips. Even his veiled eyes, though belonging to someone who remained removed, had a sort of delight and mischief behind them that could not be replicated by an act.

He wore an outfit entirely of white that radiated in the afternoon sun, the high-collared coat bearing no little resemblance to the one worn by the apprentice-in-training of the Guru of Reason. Across his back was a finely-crafted spear, with no detail on it overlooked for expense. Though, if I had not noticed the way it was expertly tended to, I would have scoffed at the idea of such a man being able to easily wield it because, despite the dust of the road, even the black boots he wore were entirely free of wear or grime.

A book of magic was balanced in his hand, which he would skim through with a twirl of shadow from his gold-ringed fingers while the faceless passed around him. Occasionally one of those pedestrians would say something to him in a vacant tongue, and he might respond with a greeting or something of wit that would make them both laugh as they continued on. It was never a long conversation, but one that carried on through the breeze from the sea, the same breeze that gently pulled along his clothes and the thick braid down his back.

Here, there was no war to fight. No division between two peoples. There may not have been Lavos, for all that was presented.

Whatever this place was, he had been blessed to enjoy it.

I nearly interrupted the queen's silence with a remark about what relevance this person had to the topic at hand, or what mind-like place we had been brought to for the sake of viewing him.

That is, until the gold around his eyes disappeared.

My own widened. Not quite having seen a ghost, because this man was not dead. He had never lived.

Looking at both of us was a set of green eyes, the sort that might turn teal in the correct light.

Janus's eyes...

Set into a face that had never sharpened into unnatural angles, one that had been allowed time in sunlight rather than by a lantern until each new dawn.

Someone with great magic and prowess, but someone who had remained a person. Who had never become the Fiendlord, never sought after Lavos.

"So you know who this is..."

"..."

I could hardly imagine such a thing. Though, before me, I was forced see it...

This person of levity and respect.

That was who Janus was supposed to have become.

I was watching a theory of myself if I had never taken on the name Magus. Where Janus...where I was allowed to--

"What is this trickery?" I hissed, stepping back from the illusion though it was not yet close.

The voice of Queen Zeal slipped past behind me. "Just a little illusion. A story told by the Mammon Machine."

The ice on my palm cracked as I turned my hands into fists. "How does it know such things? You are not even aware of what it is saying!"

"I see what you are seeing, though I do not know what it means," she agreed, still hiding among the darkness past the scene. "The Mammon Machine sees the greatest possibilities within you. What might have been if you had taken another path, corrected one mistake."

"...Is this what it showed you? It showed you the world you saw fit, and you believed it would gift it to you," I concluded.

"Why should I have a reason to not believe it?" She sounded almost haunted as she spoke, "I saw a world where Zeal obtained immortality. I saw this very palace! Lavos guided me to this exact place, just as he had shown me."

I grimaced at this version of myself, how he seemed to not even realize where we truly were.

But of course he would not.

He was not real. None of this was. And nothing Lavos promised would be.

"You are confusing a guess with a prediction," I warned her. "A self-fulfilled prophecy, as one might say."

"As a false prophet, you would know," she countered. There was no longer that soft edge to her voice, only the harsh beckoning of Lavos. "But what good would your prophetic abilities be if one was not able to act on them? Though Lavos cannot predict the future--he only provides us with an idea of the possibilities--he does give us the power to follow through with what we see."

"You are speaking in riddles," I warned her.

She chuckled. If I was not mistaken, she was amused that I did not seem to understand fully. "This machine does not only make suggestions. It shows you an option. What can be real. ...If you cooperate."

The chill of her works prickled against my neck. "...You are trying to bribe me. How truly desperate you must be."

"Lavos is extending you an offer," she amended. "He is curious about you. Someone with such knowledge of the future, as if he had lived it already... The same person who can resist his power with only a few bruises. He is very interested in what you can do. I only suggested that if he would like you to help us, we may do something for you to return such a generous favor."

Her footsteps were closer. Almost enough that I could reach over my shoulder and grab her oh so breakable neck for that suggestion. "What I want, is not what you would give."

"I am sure!" she answered, not phased. "Everyone aboard the Omen knows you would wish for all of us to drop dead at your feet, preferably with me first in line, if not Lavos himself. No, you cannot have that. This is but a meager offering as a second option."

"..." While she remained behind me, I pinched my eyes shut, blocking the vision of this Janus, the one who could smile and laugh and not live in a constant battle with a creature who had already bested him twice. One who had been more than a cursed prince, and more than a dark lord.

...It was impossible to imagine such a life. My own had been brought into existence for preserving the royal line should something befall Schala. And now that there was no throne to inherit, my life was to ensure that Schala lived free of this vile being. I was bred as a replacement and now served as a reasonably powerful weapon, where so few even remembered my name away from the prince or the Fiendlord that "Janus Zeal" was a dusty footnote in my own life most of the time.

So for a horrid, wretched moment of self-pity that I should have quashed into a pulp the moment it flickered, I really did wonder what a life as that white-clad Janus would be.

And the Queen of Zeal seized the opportunity. Her voice flitted against the tips of my ears as she came slowly closer, almost savoring the way I was trying not to watch what Lavos was showing me.

"All you must do is tell me what I ask to know."

She gasped, having had a brilliant realization.

"You could help me find Schala."

My eyes snapped open again, my spine straightening at the suggestion of hunting my sister like some common criminal.

"Come now, for how you defend her, I know you also care for my daughter, even if such feelings of protectiveness are misplaced on you. I think you still know more of her location than your words have led us to think."

I said nothing, as I really did know much less on Schala's location than she assumed. I was trying to focus on how the faceless crowd had drifted away into the blackness.

"We might find her and make sure she is safe." She sounded almost wistful at the idea of Schala returning to what was meant to be her grave. "After that, I will have Lavos take all of those cold, bitter memories away. Everything that has ever brought you pain can be forgotten. I sensed so much anger, so much sadness and doubt when you were in my court... What makes you suffer in agony every day and every night, it can be gone, like this was never even reality. Then I can bring you to any place in time you ask, and you can live what life you desire."

Finally, she stopped her pacing just a few steps from my back.

"Is it so much to ask that you answer that one question in return?"

And somehow, we were alone. The body of a dead woman behind me, and the soul of a fake man before me.

"Desire is a powerful tool. But only if you seize the opportunity to have what you deserve."

"You do not even know my name." I spun to face her smile. "How do you know this is what I desire?"

She lightly chuckled. It was a much more gentle sound. Much more conclusive. "Because you have not refused."

"..." I had not.

Janus studied both of us for a moment, noticing for the first time that we were there.

By Zeal, the illusion even managed to mimic that frustratingly cold stare Melchior would fuss over as unbecoming.

Was this vision truly what my fate might have been?

Zeal's cold hand pressed into my shoulder. I was near transfixed by the person in front of us, so I did not spare her the gaze of disdain she deserved.

Words flowed from her mouth, whispering against my ears. "I can free the guile from your heart."

...She could.

Very easily.

For the small price of admitting there was no greater feat of my own to account for my survival.

I had resisted Lavos by carrying an amulet given to me by my sister 20 years ago. Her prayers infused in that bracket of metal had preserved me this entire journey.

And betraying her would be a reasonable prize for this chance.

...

There was no doubt Lavos's influence was at an abundance. The Mammon Machine was at full strength generate the mindscape we had been trapped inside. My amulet protected me from it, but persuasiveness if not a physical attack. Even if the offer was to be turned into a frog, I would have been swayed to comply.

Yet, somehow Schala managed to call me back from the edge once more.

Because she was not there.

In this entire proposal for a perfect life of my own design, Schala had never appeared among this Janus. It was only the three of us standing in that room.

This illusion promised something for only myself.

Making that promise would not bring her closer to her own happiness. So there was no interest for me in it.

And, well, my life was never meant to be enjoyed. Why should I start to?

I looked at the green eyes that would never be mine again. At a face I had never seen in a mirror, and I was content not to.

Still. It had been amusing to know what I may have looked like if so much had not gone so horribly wrong. And for that, I allowed myself the slightest softening of my scowl as I bid him farewell.

"A generous offer. One that would garner anyone's attention."

Ice began to form along my fingers.

The illusion seemed to know what I had decided. Janus offered me the slightest tilt of a grin, the same sort I might have given Schala or Alfador when we were all young. He raised his hand as if toasting to my good luck with an invisible cup, and then vanished into the darkness.

The queen's grip loosened.

"But I am more inclined to the life among the fiends."

With that, I wrenched myself from her claw-like grip and cast ice against her head.

She practically yowled in shock, giving me that one moment I needed to rip Moonfell from her fingers.

I brought her legs out from under her, lowering the point of my scythe to her bloodied chin.

Queen Zeal looked at me with so much hatred I almost felt at home.

"Perhaps I can let you be one of my undead soldiers in return for your offer."

Her eyes flared with a familiar rage. "How dare you threaten me!?"

The wound on her mouth melded itself back together as her skin turned silver. Her torso ripped into three pieces, morphing into the head and hands that served Lavos.

"I could have made you anything you desired," she growled, raising her hand to me.

I flew from the MP buster tunnel before she could lay down the first word of her chant.

"I could have made you as one of us!"

One of her hands followed after me. I barely managed to swing Moonfell between us, pushing it back with the quick chanting of a lightning spell.

"All I required of you was the answer to one question!"

A ring made of every color of light rippled from her hands.

I soared across the metal floor, focusing what of magic I could spare into speed. The darkness would have only been able to fill the room, and I doubted it would affect the machine's operators as they were needed to activate it.

Flying from the darkness, the Mammon Machine came into view, its silver still columns radiating the red power of Lavos.

The mutants looked up in surprise as I charged for the machine, deflecting their metallic blows as they tried to stop me.

I rounded the Mammon Machine just in time for the ring of fire and light to crash into it.

The metal mutants cried out as the queen's spell tore them apart from the inside, making them shrivel into crumpled piles of twitching circuits.

The machine cried out in anger, radiating even more power into the room.

Schala's amulet once again began to burn with white heat.

I grit my teeth and launched myself to the precipice of the machine.

It seemed to almost shriek with rage as my boots scrambled for purchase on its polished surface. I quickly realized my folly and remaining hovering just above it.

The face of Zeal appeared as the illusion dissolved, making her appear as if she had risen from smoke after been burned of her humanity. Her bronze eyes bored against me with no veil for her hate.

"You have defied your queen, and you have defied Lavos. Once you were my trusted advisor, so I have tried to grant you mercy."

I almost wanted to laugh at her folly, but this mighty woman was no longer more than a puppet.

And such a person is not worthy of my respect. I struggled to even find pity for her as she rose from the ashes to face me.

"Weak, bitter fool," I spat. "How can you be enlightened if you are so blind to the world?"

"Taunt me more, Prophet," she scowled. "Lavos will have you suffer for this. You will beg for simple torture by the time you have felt the first touch of his power! He will see you enjoy the life you deserve!"

"You prattle on about nothing. No one lives the life they deserve, no one lives the life they desire, no one lives the life they want!" I tightened my grip on Moonfell, nearly drawing blood by my claws. "We are only allowed the life that we choose. And I must warn you, if you dare to cross me again, you will choose death."

Something caught my ear.

Something like shadows in the wind...

Zeal laughed, her hands readying for attack. "And I am the one who prattles on?"

I held back a sigh, turning the blade of my scythe towards her. "Then know I offered you the choice to let me go on my way peacefully."

"Cursed fiend," she spat. "You will remember well why Lavos is not to be crossed by mere mortals."

"Mortal, but not merely so," I scolded her. "The world is designed to cull the weak. I am the arbiter of death that sees such beings removed!"

Schala's amulet burned against the might of Lavos, but I was not interested in falling before the woman who had decimated her life.

Lightning crackled down Moonfell's hilt.

"Now, this place shall burn for its crime of existing."

Zeal shrieked the words of a spell.

The Mammon Machine surged with the rage of Lavos.

I stood above them all, baring my fangs to the sound of the black wind the would drown them all.

********

The great mountains of the peninsula spread shadows across the entire port town by late afternoon.

By evening, the snow-covered peaks had swallowed the little fishing village behind me with a quiet night. Candles flickering in windows were the only light for miles, excepting a small lantern flickering from the pole of a carriage well into the foothills.

Alfador squirmed at every bump against the road, which wasn't even cobblestone to begin with, but now had deformed into cracked, rocky paths that tipped one way into a ditch, then the other towards the edge of the hills. I shushed at him and pulled him onto the map my strewn on my crossed legs until he was quiet. It seemed everyone in town, including the carriage driver, was not staring at us, but trying to pull themselves away to the darker corners when I approached.
"No, no, we cannot do that."

In Zeal, I might have understood why. I was one of the high nobles, only questioned by the Gurus and the Council, and only second to Mother. The Prophet, Magus, had stretched his authority quite a bit, but even he would listen when I spoke a command. Here, the way everyone had watched me in town when I'd approached seemed to be from something else.

Perhaps it was just that I was the lone stranger to get off the ship when it had stopped to change their sailors. But it unsettled me.

The carriage caught against the edge of another ditch, nearly feeling as if it would bounce off the hill into the creek below us. Alfador yowled in protest at the windows.
I pet soft caresses down the top of his head to his neck, warning him. "We do not want the driver to leave us in the hills on our own."

Though, really, we were barely at the hills anymore, having passed onto the rocky threshold of the mountains. The brown stone towered over us like the mountain that cupped the Palace of Zeal in her hands, making me squirm just slightly in my seat. Immediately I wanted to scold myself for such a thing. Anything similar to home was welcome after it was lost.

...

It felt so long ago. And also as if it had never happened.

Like I would soon wake up from this dream and I would be in my chambers. One of my maids would call for me to get ready, and soon there would be a flurry of excitement of finding my robes for the day, running my scarf through my hair properly, then being rushed to breakfast before my morning duties with the Mammon Machine.

Janus would be awake by the time I was ready to join Mother in the throne room, being half followed half chased by his own maids, Alfador properly trotting along at his side like a royal bodyguard of old.

I would tell the maids I was able to handle my brother from there, and as we walked we would go as slowly as possible so he could regale me with the tragedy of his under-seasoned porridge, or perhaps with a tale of how Melchior was convinced he had magic, even though he had never shown any to him. So I might have to get rid of a summons for a magic analysis again. I would scold him, say his magic was a gift powerful enough that I could sense it. He would scoff and tell me everyone in Zeal knew magic, they had no need for another, even if shadow magic had not been seen in the royal line for centuries. So we would debate the ideals of magic and power and somehow descend into squabbles over which of the grand windows would be the most fun to launch one of the councilors out of.

But none of that would happen. And though the weight of Lavos now struck me differently than it had when I served him, somehow this was not entirely a blessing.

Yet, maybe Janus and I would have a morning like that again. Why, he had only been gone for a week, maybe two. Naturally, we could not return home, but perhaps Frog would understand letting me keep my brother with me. If he did not want the both of us in his home, I would find some way to help both of us. Janus could stay with Frog and I would sleep in the trees if I must. How wonderful that might be, sleeping outside under the clouds instead of among them.

Janus could use his magic here.

I could teach him all of the fun little spells Father and Mother had taught me, and the ones the Gurus had gifted me in the little books wrapped in gold for each of my birthdays, and even the ones Mother had told me she hoped to teach him while she was still the kind, wonderful mother from the lower noble houses. After all, the royal line of Zeal was made of light elementals, she would be one of the few people who knew how to train a shadow elemental as her house was known for fire and shadow.

It would not be a whole family, but those pieces were that we would cherish.

And then the carriages jolted again.

I caught my slippers against the bench off opposite where I had been sitting. Alfador hopped onto my shoulder, scrambling for the top of the seat to try and look out the tiny window in the door for what had spooked the horses into neighing so.

We had stopped.

A gravelly voice of one who smoked too many a firmoss pipe called down to me. "'Right, young miss, we've 'rrived at the mountains ye asked fer!"

"Oh!" I grabbed my map from the floor and shoved it into my bag. "That's wonderful, thank you, sir!"

Alfador leapt onto my shoulder as I pushed open the carriage door and stepped onto the mountainside.

We had stopped in a grassy gulch surrounded by cliffs so sharp that they nearly cut my eyes trying to follow them to the snow-laced peaks.

The setting sun was able to trickle through a well-meaning gap in the craigy stone, but it only served to blind me when I looked in any direction by where I came from.

The map had shown the twin peaks in the mountains and the grassy plain should be in just the position the were if I wanted to find the Magic Cave. But so far, I saw nothing of interest save Alfador and the driver's pipe in the twilight.

"Ye sure ye was lookin' fer dees mountains, miss?" he called at me. I spun from where I'd paused by the bottom of a cliff. "Der ain't much o' nothin' out 'ere. De say da Mystics come huntin' after it's dark in dees parts. Come spillin' outta that Magic Cave, lookin' fer revenge!"

I paused as I pulled my scythe out the of the truck nailed to the back of the carriage. The driver looked at me expectantly while I tip-toed forward.

"...I am not looking to fight the Mystics...?" I offered, self-consciously throwing the strap of my scythe around my shoulder.

"...Ye meetin' with a young lad out 'ere or somethin'?"

What would possess him to ask something so crude?? One did not meet with a man in the mountains in the dark back home! "W-well...?"

The driver paused, drawing on his pipe as he waited for me to finish what I hadn't even figured out how to say. Then laughed. "Don' be out 'ere too late with 'im, even with Magus dead, we don' really trust dees parts. Nearest town is 'bout a two 'our walk. Hope the boy's strong enough ta carry ye there!"

Seeming to find himself quite amusing, he whipped the reins against the bay horses, who shook themselves and promenaded out of the gulch, back into the hill country that would lead them to the sea.

Alfador and I watched the lantern on the carriage disappear before he looked at the cliffs, then at me expectantly.

"...Perhaps this was not the best wisest choice out of the options," I mused, turning to look at the cliffs. "But, we had best begin to search."

Fortunately, it did not take long past the last ray of light to find the cave. Though sure to have many, I had little doubt when we found a great opening to a tunnel that even had a torch hung up inside.

Someone gave me a final look of hesitation.

I sighed. "This was your idea to start."

"Mreow."

With one last breath of mountain air, I stepped into the Magic Cave.

After the first bend in the tunnel, the view to the outside world disappeared. Everything around us became stone and shadows, akin to a large Earthbound tomb. After just a few paces forward, I felt like I might be lost forever, even though there were no other paths to take but forward.

The first torch passed us by, bidding us no luck as I walked towards the next one embedded in the wall.

"...This is foolish..." I whispered, though no one was here.

All too soon, the floor began to tip downward, and the last of the torches passed us by. Their light stayed behind us for a time, but soon it was nothing more than a prick against the darkness, reminding me that I could still go back if I wanted to. The air turned stale as we stumbled down roughly-cut stairs and around sharp turns, until we had arrived at a path that was somewhat even, but infested with places to catch your ankle if you stepped the slightly way incorrectly. My fingers clutched my pendant, taking some mild comfort in the smooth metal as everything turned into darkness.

Alfador watched the torch fade, but strangely, I felt no desire to. Why watch when it was only there to tempt me to turn away from Janus? I knew what I must do, and I would see to it.

Even as the walls began to turn damp with salt water.

The smell reminded me all too much of the early days of the Ocean Palace, when it was mostly metal supports and one viewing chamber for us to watch as bubble-headed Earthbound worked on Guru Belthazar's second masterpiece. The one where I would perform my greatest crime against my kingdom by feeding the Mammon Machine with my magic, calling Lavos from his slumber for Mother.

The mere vapors were almost drawing bile out of my stomach as I remembered the way Lavos's power had felt. And how I felt watching Mother's voice ordering me to continue, despite the acid burning in my head with every word. How the room would sparkle on the edge of my vision and I would find myself on the ground while Melchior tried to keep me up.

Thank Zeal Janus had never been in the Mammom Machine chamber more than the one time, or I might have despaired for having to appear so weak before him and frightening him.

And thank Zeal the one time he did visit the machine in the palace, I was able to fix the damage that had been allowed to happen.

I held a hand to the darkness and called just a bit of magic into my fingers. Small lights, like jewels, sparkled ahead of us, lighting our way just enough that I could watch where I put my next step.

So we continued like this for what felt like the entire night. Alfador watching behind while I kept going forward, taking a few breaks when my hand felt too heavy to continue.

"What do you think we should say when we arrive?" I asked.

"Mreow?"

"Or do you think it will be abandoned since Magus was defeated? I doubt the humans of this time would let such a remarkable piece of his lineage stay operational."

"Mreow."

"At that, how exactly was he defeated? Hold on to me for a moment." I hopped over a small pit, easily landing on the other side but not wanting to look too deep. "He arrived in our time after, so he found a gate, I assume. And if there was a gate, then why did Janus not use it to return? Did he not know about it?"

"Mreoooow."

"Yes, yes, of course, you know as little as I. So what do we know? It is likely the keep is abandoned. If Magus is still alive, I doubt Mother will let him return, but it is possible! Though, for now, we should assume it is abandoned and that we should be cautious of anyone who might try to explore the castle without permission."

"Mreow."

"Yes, yes, we will be exploring without permission, but you understand my purpose? We slip inside, find if there is any evidence of Janus, and then we use what we find to track where he is. Good?"

"Mreow!"

"Wonderful!" I laughed. "I hope you understand what I am saying, lest this be a somewhat awkward conversation with myself and my brother's perplexed compatriot."

"Mreoo-oooooow."

"Eek!"

I held a sharp breath and stopped. "Was that you?"

Alfador gave me an unamused look.

"Eek!"

I poured more magic into my hand and tossed light against the ceiling, but there was nothing new to see.

"Eek! Eek!"

"Hello?" I cleared my throat. "Is someone here? I mean no harm! I only seek to pass by!"

"Eek! Eek!"

"Eek!"

"Eek-- Eek!"

The cries had become louder, and with them was the sound of a dozen, no, two dozen feet running towards us!

I slowly backed myself to the wall and pulled out my scythe. Alfador's fur stood along his back.

"It is alright, I will make sure you are safe," I assured him, letting him nuzzle my cheek while I gripped the scythe's worn hilt.

Orange eyes appeared from the darkness, bouncing up and down and squeaking all the while. Their crying almost sound like a humming chant as they got closer, until I could see snouts and tails and hunched backs of purple fur running for us.

Rats!

I had never seen such things in Zeal, though the Earthbound would often curse by them.

I had not realized they were so big!

"Eek!"

"Eek! Eek!"

"Human?"

"Human!"

"Eek!"

Were they speaking?

"Stay away!" I warned them.

For a moment, I thought they had listened. They swarmed in a circle just past where I could reach and seem to be moving on their way.

Only to rebound and attack from the front rather than the side!

"Eek!"

"Human!"

"Eek!"

Two of them jumped at me, and I screamed at their bloody teeth. The scythe swung through the air purely on instinct.

I felt the blade cut into them with a wet squish before the tip connected with the ground.

The remaining rats followed soon after, but in the entire swarm!

"Eek!!"

"Eek!!"

Alfador hissed.

I dared not even try to look at the scythe while two rat corpse strung onto it.

So I reached towards the dancing orbs of light on the ceiling, feeling myself go weightless for a moment, and tore it to the ground.

Flashes of light cracked against the ground, sparking and spitting like crushed diamonds in the wind.

When the spell faded, we were left in the darkness.

All that was left was the sound of my breaths shaking against the salty air.

"...Mreow...?"

My shoulders slumped to my knees. I called another orb of twinkling light and tossed it to the ceiling.

Instantly, I regretted seeing what I had done.

A horde of rats, each the size of three Alfadors, were prone on the ground, some twitching, but all quite thoroughly dead.

The hilt of my scythe clattered onto the ground, and I proceeded to hold back a disgusted heave.

"Mreow?" Alfador hit the pad of his paw against my face.

"Please, Alfador, not--ugh." I held a hand to my face and dimmed the light.

Very quickly, I scrambled for my scythe and used it to brush the corpses into the shallow pit I had crossed not long before. It was agonizingly long to get the two unstuck from the blade, especially as I refused to touch them.

I had never taken a tonic so quickly before.

The taste of under-processed tree sap made me choke, yet somehow I was a bit better as I walked.

"I do not suppose you would like some as well?"

Alfador sniffed the nearly empty vial, and immediately swatted it away.

A startled laugh caught me off-guard. "Alright, then suffer."

I prayed I would never have to see something so disgusting again...

The entire incident made me all the more eager to be done with the cave.

I nearly lost a slipper a few times trying to quickly navigate around tight passes and over little ruts, as this time I was keeping my orb of light just a bit farther from me to spot anymore rats that might try to surprise me.

The fear of another encounter where I might have to kill something kept me so thoroughly distracted that I did not realize that there was light ahead until Alfador meowwed in excitement.

We had found another torch!

I let my magic fade away when we found a second one warmly glowing against the brown stones.

The walls hardly smelled of salt any longer.

We must be near the exit...

The floor began to slope up, followed by crudely cut stairs as the angle became to difficult to traverse, then settled back into a gentle path.

After less than an hour of travel, I could see a roughly-cut opening of stone leading outside.

"We've done it!" I gasped, quickly my stride even more. "We made it through the cave--"

There was a human lying on the ground by the exit.

I think it was human, that is.

Naturally, I slowed us to nearly a halt. "...Hello?"

They said nothing. They did not move, they did not flinch.

As we approached, I could see very little but bones and armor on them.

Most of their flesh had been nibble away with rat-sized bites. I shuddered, staying as far as I could while trying to decided if I might try the teleporting spell I had been practicing months before the Ocean Palace needed my attention so desperately.

Gazing at the exit, I noticed that there seemed to be a message...scrawled in blood near the body. It had mostly been stomped into dust by rat footprints, but I could make out the start of a message: "Beware the ... in the ... ord's Keep! Strike the ... ti ... defense against blows. Cast spells ... strengthen ... fense against magic."

...What a long message to write with your own blood.

In the end, I choose the fool-proof method of running very quickly and trying my best not to think of what I was running past.

Alfador seemed pleased enough with that course of action, clinging to the sheath of my scythe as my slippers ran past the soldier, out of the cave, and into the mountains at the other side of the Magic Cave.

"Mreow!"

I laughed, running to the grass beyond the mountains. We were not even deep in the range like their sisters on the peninsula, the cave had lead us right to the base of the mountains, freeing us into a grassy plain that rolled into soft green foothills. They stretched for miles until they softly faded into a flat expanse of greenery split down the middle by what seemed to be a road! A road that led to a swath of dark green trees that stretched past the sides of the horizon for as far as I could see.

We had walked across the entire ocean in just a few hours.

At that, the sun was still setting beyond the hills, just as it had been when we entered, like no time had passed at all.

All of that had been done at the same time I had entered the cave.

What a marvel!

"Can you believe this?" I whispered to Alfador, looking at the way the sunlight streaked across the clouds. I felt as if I might take to the air and fly to the forest!

But we could not be rash. This was enemy territory in every regard as I was human and without anything but my word that Magus had known me. We must be discreet.

"I think it would be best if we camped here for the night," I told my brother's cat. "We must take care to rest before we attempt to understand what we are going to face."

Alfador purred in agreement as I inspected the territory for some kind of shelter.

Not finding much, I settled for a small overhead near the cave. It was not much, but in case it began to rain, we should be alright, and we had ample warning of anyone who tried to approach us.

I had only just enough coin for our travel, not enough for a tent, and if I did, I do not think I could have set it up on my own.

So I had to settle for gathering a few branches from the smattering of trees around the edge of the mountains and tossing them into a small pile inside some haphazardly-arranged stones. Alfador waited patiently nearby as I tried to use my magic to light the wood.

It was a meager, little white fire, but it was warm. I took off my scythe, setting it so I could not see the blood, and then took off the pouches on my waist. I might have a divot rubbed raw into my skin from the meager belt I had carried them on, but both were still filled to the brim. Ayla's quickly got good use as I selected a handful of her offerings that would work as supper. I did not prefer to eat the jerky, so Alfador was allowed all her wanted before he curled into my side.

I thoughtfully chewed on one of the flat biscuits, watching at the sun dipped out of sight and the clouds gathered before me.

Tomorrow, we would go to Magus's Keep and search for Janus.

It was a comforting thought. That somehow, after everything, this might work out for us all.

I turned in quickly as a breeze began to creep along the stones that chilled me so deeply I almost wondered if it was the black wind.

If the clouds had not been watching over us as we slept, I could have looked up and seen the Black Omen directly over my head.

Notes:

Wow, I have a lot to say today.

Originally, I was going to have this chapter also include about...holy scrap, I have 12 more scenes in my outline. They would have been shorter ones, but by the time I'd written all of Schala's scenes, this thing was already as long as the previous chapters, then Magus's scenes for this chapter made it almost as long as the previous two combined. The siblings decided they had a LOT to say. So bad news, you'll have to wait and see the fun action scene. Good news, the next chapter is just waiting for me to write Magus's half, so it should be out soon!

I did write parts of this while I was half asleep, and I was burning out a lot (because apparently I wrote the equivalent of 80 google docs pages in a week, on top of summer classes, work, certifications, and life) so this wasn't even as long and fleshed out as I had intended it to be.

Now, for a small rant about something that both confuses and annoys me. Spoilers for Chrono Trigger, I guess, but if you've read this fic, you've already been spoiled for most of the game. Spoilers for Chrono Cross too, but not so egregious.

In the development of Chrono Cross, Magus was supposed to show up while he's trying to find Schala, and he would have been a playable character like he is in Chrono Trigger. But as they were making the game, the developers didn't think they could do his story justice, and they didn't want to ruin his arc by condensing it to juggle everyone else's stories, and making it unsatisfying. So, they undid the backstory they'd already put into the character they were making and created Guile, who is still a character in Chrono Cross but very different from Magus in a lot of ways. At one point in CC, Lucca mentions Janus, so we know he's still out there somewhere, but Guile is a completely different character than him. This, I don't mind, I love Guile, though I'm sad my boy didn't return.

Until the Chrono Trigger DS bonus ending.

In the DS version, they made a new ending that was supposed to tie in Chrono Trigger with Chrono Cross more feasibly. To do that, this ending was going to focus on a possible ending where Magus did find Schala, but it didn't work out and he couldn't save her. Okay, can still work, even though it's sad.

But then they decided the way to wrap up Magus's arc was that he...gives himself amnesia. And the developers did this so that Guile could still be Magus, just with amnesia.

People might have liked that, but it didn't sit right with me, it just seemed like an out of character thing for Magus to do after he spent decades of his life to save Schala. But does that technically mean that Guile is Magus, just without all of the trauma from Zeal and the fiends and the war and his life in general? I guess?? Which is honestly a cool concept, "What would Magus have been like if he didn't go through everything that he did?" but I, personally, didn't like it in the context we have. So I yoinked that idea and made Queen Zeal tempt him with the idea that he could be happy if he did this, but he preferred to live the consequences of his actions and continue to stand up to her and Lavos. He knows he's evil and he knows he has made mistakes, but he doesn't care, his self-loathing is always going to beat out his own happiness, he's going to save Schala and kill Lavos.

That's my little light-hearted rant. Chrono Cross fans, please don't come for me! This is just my opinion, and you can ignore it, it's just fanfiction.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, please comment or kudo, those were keeping me alive while I was working on this. Please ignore my plethora of typos. I'll have chapter 5 up as soon as I can! Just pray for my hands, they are so tired.

Notes:

There will be typos galore until I get around to editing them out. I try to catch any that are really awful, but I don't have a lot of free time to edit.