Author - Io, the Angst Writer
July 26, 2000
E-mail: prince_io@hotmail.com
homepage: http://csd.varlew.net  <-- The Chrono Series Database, your best source for Chrono Info


Mystical Roots

	Ozzie hovered patiently in the center of his master's chamber. Tiny rivulets of sweat ran down his emerald, oily face as he waited breathlessly for his master to awaken from his meditation. Ozzie wondered why he was always so nervous when he talked to Magus. He had raised the young boy as his own and taught him the ways of thievery and wretchedness, yet he always became quite petrified when speaking to him alone. 

	Amazing power emanated from the throne upon which Magus sat, deep in concentration. He had been like this for the past three days without any disturbances. Now, as Ozzie hovered nearby, a droplet of sweat beaded off his forehead and fell onto the cold, stone floor. The sound it made was minute, yet Magus' brow suddenly furrowed and his body seemed to relax slightly. Ozzie flinched as he realized he had disturbed his master. 

	"Yes, Ozzie, what do you want?" Magus asked, disgust welling with impatience in his throat. 

	Ozzie stammered before getting the words out. 

	"Uh, well, I just wanted to tell you, uh that is, that I thought you would want to know that, well... everything is ready for you in your main chamber. The fires aren't lit though, which is a curious thing, because I tried, and so did Slash and Flea and even a Freelancer and well we couldn't get them to stay lit and-"

	Magus spoke with slow coolness. 

	"Yes, Ozzie, I know. Only I can light them, and only when the time is right.  (sigh) Is that all?"  

	Magus opened his eyes to reveal two fiery red orbs upon a backdrop of gray.

	"Yes sir. I'm sorry to disturb you but I thought that you should know 'cause I had no idea when you were gonna snap out of it and..." 

	Ozzie's voice trailed off to an unconfident whisper as Magus' ruby eyes pierced into him. Ozzie slowly turned around and wafted out the chamber. 

	Ozzie grumbled. He had begun to regret 'allowing' Magus to take his place as leader of the Mystics. Ozzie thought as he removed himself from the chamber.

	'He thinks he's so big... Mr. High-and-Mighty. Well who taught him, huh? Who showed him the skills he possesses today? Who took him in and sheltered him, eh? What an ungrateful being he has become...'

	Magus closed his eyes again and thought.

	'And to think I used to serve that sop. What a poor, sad thing he's become, groveling at my feet like the slug he is. Though my contempt for him grows daily, I still owe him much...' 

	Magus' head slowly began to nod to and fro and eventually his chin dropped to his chest and his eyes sealed shut.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	"But why?" whined Janus. Alfador mewed in agreement.

	"Because," Schala said patiently, "she's a very busy woman."

	Schala, Janus' half-sister, tossed her head and her turquoise locks jumbled in a heap at her back. She smiled at her young half-brother, knowing full well that her explanation would not suffice.

	Janus complained. 

	"She's always busy now. What does she do anyway?"

	Schala tactfully changed the subject.

	"I have to go visit Melchior in Kajar. Would you like to come along?"

	"Sure, I guess. I haven't seen Masa and Mune in a while too. I wonder what they're up to. 	They said they were gonna do something special the last time we talked. I wonder what 	they meant. Hey, can Alfador come too?"

	Schala nodded and took Janus' hand. Quietly, she sighed. She knew that it was only a matter of time until Janus found out about their mother's plans. Everyone in Zeal Kingdom knew of her plot, but not of her true intentions. The Queen had ulterior motives that were only discussed between the Gurus and the Queen's right hand men. Schala only knew of her true intent because Melchior had informed her. The Queen hadn't been the same since the death of her husband, Garrin, and everyone knew it.

	Schala and Janus left Zeal Palace via the land bridges and arrived at Kajar with the white and brown Alfador close behind them. Kajar was the second largest of the Enlightened villages, and it was rich with culture and art. Schala was greeted with many smiling faces and friendly gestures. She replied warmly and conversed with various people. Janus, ever the anti-socialite, remained silent and glared at the floor. Suddenly, he became aware of an unusual magical force close by. He looked around and spotted a book on the counter of a store. He let go of Schala's hand and approached it. Slowly, he reached out to open the book, but his hand was slapped away by a three-fingered blue one. Janus rubbed the top of his hand and regarded the Nu with hostility. 

	The Nu looked from the book to Janus and shook it's spherical bluish head slowly. The Nu attempted what can only be called a smile and slowly began to open the book itself. A wave of heat began to escape the book and crackling sounds could be heard as little sparks began to fly. A red glow arose from inside the book and illuminated the counter-top. Janus' eyes widened as he studied the book with awe. 

	"Janus! Come here, would you?" 

	Startled, Janus turned around and saw his sister calling him over. She stood with three men each dressed in elegant, flowing robes. Janus turned and looked back to the Nu. It was slumped against the wall snoring and breathing quite a large mucous bubble. Janus looked to where the book was but found only empty counter space. Janus eyed the Nu carefully and returned to his sister.

	"Now don't be rude," Schala said. "Say hello to the Gurus."

	Janus regarded each one carefully. Though his sister was quite fond of them and said that they were his friends, he didn't believe this to be true. One wore royal blue with an orange shroud. He wore green spectacles and carried an opal scepter. Another wore blue clothing bordered with orange and a white shawl that draped over his neck and shoulders. Both of these men had snow white mustaches shaped like a boomerang. The last wore non-descript clothing with slightly dull colors. He looked at Janus and smiled.

	"Hey," he said, with a bit of humor in his voice, as if he were in on some private joke only he knew about.

	Janus narrowed his eyes and edged behind his sister.

	"(sigh) I'm sorry. Anyway, you know I can't accept this. It's my mother's..."

	Schala placed the pendant she held in her hands back into Melchior's and closed his fingers around it. Melchior shook his head and put it around Schala's neck.

	"Dear, it was your mother's. The woman who sits on that throne is no longer the woman you call mother. Take it, she has no use for it anymore. She hasn't worn it since Garrin died, you know that. It's rightfully yours. Take it, please. I urge you to do so. I feel that it's safer in your hands. It may also be of some use in the future..." 

	Melchior's tone of voice was ominous. So much so, that Schala nodded in consent, lost for words. Janus wondered why Melchior had given Schala the Queen's pendant.

	Schala fingered the ornament hanging at her chest and wondered what her mother would think if she saw her wearing it. Janus' eyes wandered from the pendant back to the floor. Although he couldn't perceive the impact of this event, he felt that something of tremendous importance had just taken place. Schala began to talk with the Gurus again and Janus began scanning the area for his acquaintances Masa and Mune. 

	Out of all the children and adults in Zeal Kingdom, only Schala, Masa, Mune, and their sister Doreen, were recipients of Janus' trust and respect. Masa and Mune appeared to be the same age as Janus, but in reality, they had lived for quite a time before him. Melchior, the Guru of Reason, had met them in his early days as a traveler and they had become fast friends. Doreen, however, was more solitary and preferred to live on her own. She wound up living in Zeal Kingdom, along with Melchior and her brothers, although she lived in Enhasa, not Kajar.

	"Melchior! Hey, we're here!" 

	Two young voices rang out in tandem. Janus whirled around and found Masa and Mune directly behind him. They grinned and their long, pointy, elfish ears rose with their yellow-brown cheeks, adding about an inch to their near four feet of height. They each had pale blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. Both wore white tunics with large, bunched up collars. The only difference between the two in appearance was the color of their collars. Masa wore a deep green, bunched up collar, while Mune wore a deep purple, bunched up collar.

	"So you are." Melchior replied. "You're just in time little ones, for I finished my work this morning." Melchior smiled broadly and tapped his hip.

	Masa and Mune smiled wryly. 

	"Well then, let's do it." Masa and Mune said together.

	Melchior suddenly drew a large, beautifully crafted sword from a sheath that was hidden under his clothing. He held it high above his head and Masa and Mune began to chant. Both rose into the air, closed their eyes, and joined their hands. The sword left Melchior's hand and floated toward Masa and Mune. It began to spin tip over hilt, creating a yellow ellipse. Masa and Munes' chant rose in volume and intensity. Janus became mesmerized by the spinning blade and took a few steps closer. There was a quick flash and Masa and Mune seemed to be struck down. They both hit the ground, but got up immediately after, grinning wildly. Janus was struck down by the blast as well, and now lay in a heap and Schala's feet.

	"Janus!" Schala cried in despair.

	But before Schala could pick him up, Janus rose to his unsteady feet, shivering and rubbing his arms to try and regain warmth. Alfador mewed in apprehension.

	"I feel weak..." Janus said, as he supported himself against his sister.

	Melchior grimaced.

	"You got too close. It must have sapped some of your essence. You're lucky, young Janus. You could have been terribly hurt." 

	Melchior pushed his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose with his left forefinger. He wiped his hands on his clothing and smiled.

	"Well then," he said. "It's done. Masa, Mune; you are now guardians of the only blade these hands will ever forge."

	Masa and Mune grinned mischievously. 
	
	"So, what're you gonna call it?" they said, together.

	Janus was now a bit steadier on his feet, but his head still pounded.

	"Why, the Masamune, of course." said Melchior.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*

	
	"I don't believe this!" snorted Ozzie.

	Ozzie's bulbous, green hands reached for another oddly shaped vegetable from the barrel. Peelings and shavings were strewn all over the dusty floor and under Ozzie's green, rotund feet.

	"He told me that yesterday would be the last time I had to do this for months! And now look! Just look at what I'm doing! Peeling vegetables! And ugly ones too! I don't want stew! It's stew and bread every night! And if it's not stew, it's mush!"

	"Well you go and make a raid then, o Great One. I can't help it if all the villagers in Porre and Dorino eat like peasants." Slash said, acidly.

	Slash stood opposite from Ozzie, chopping carrots with his sword. 

	"Trust me," he said, caustically, "the Slasher is not meant for cutting carrots!"

	"Oh boo hoo. Would you two stop grumbling and finish? I'm starved."

	Flea sat on the counter between the two, legs crossed, and frowning.

	"We would be done by now, if someone didn't mind getting their 'oh so delicate' hands dirty!" Ozzie retorted.
	
	"*Tsk* Men." Flea said with disgust.

	"Pff! You're one to talk!" Slash spat, accusingly.

	"Hey!" Flea hopped off the counter and stared menacingly at Slash who continued to cut carrots with his sword.

	"Hey any time you're ready, pony tail." Slash crushed a carrot in his muscular, purple fist.

	"Hey, shut up!" Ozzie shouted. "Do you want him to come in here and settle it for both of you? You'll be out on your rears in five minutes!"

	Flea scowled at Slash and walked over to the stew pot while Slash continued his cutting. Flea stuck the wooden spoon in and took a sip.

	"Oh blech! What's in this swill? It needs some more vinegar..." Flea said quietly.

	"Yeah, whaddaya want now?" Ozzie asked, impatiently. **

	"Nothing." Flea said, blinking, after a few moments of confused silence.

	Ozzie grumbled and resumed peeling what appeared to be a potato.

	"Stupid (peel) stew! (peel) I'm so damn (peel) sick (peel) of STEW!" 

	Ozzie smashed the potato to mush on the counter.

	"Hey! I have to clean up afterward, so stop throwing a fit!" Slash shouted at Ozzie who hovered opposite him with clenched fists.

	"Oh shut up you!" Ozzie took a potato and heaved it at Slash's head. In lightning quick movements, Slash cut the potato into eighths and caught them on the side of his sword. He deftly slid them off into the stew pot.

	"Thanks." Slash said lightly, with a grin on his purple lips.

	Ozzie grumped around Slash to the pot and dumped the shavings into it. He slowly stirred it while trying to keep his temper to a minimum. Kitchen duty was the last thing Ozzie wanted at the moment and his cronies weren't helping much either.


**Ozzie's name in Japanese was "Vinegar!"		
	

	"It wouldn't be like this if I didn't let that boy have control..." Ozzie whined to no one in particular.

	Slash chuckled abruptly; cutting through the thick, stale air.

	"Let, you say? 'Let'? Hah! When he said that he wanted control you fought him tooth and nail for it! And he left you within an inch of your grubby life! I wonder, did he hit you so hard as to cause amnesia?" Slash laughed heartily and soon Flea joined in with high, shrill spurts of cackling.

	Ozzie tasted the broth and cringed. Snorting, he tried to rid his tongue of the taste.

	"Yes, but who kept him from getting rid of you two, hmm?" 

	Slash and Flea grew quiet. They knew that they'd gone too far. True, Ozzie had convinced Magus to spare them. Without Ozzie, they'd be stuck as vagabonds out roaming the country in search of food and occasional shelter. In the past, Ozzie's Fort had seen weekly festivities. Mystics came from miles around to celebrate the fact that they weren't humans. Ozzie always had his meals prepared for him. No expense was spared.

	But soon, after the arrival of a little blue haired boy, things began to change. Ozzie took him in and sheltered him and taught him everything he knew. He was surprised by the skill the boy possessed to begin with and was even more shocked to discover the extent of his magical ability. 

	Soon, Magus, as the boy was now called, began to make a name for himself among the Mystics. He amassed an army of loyal followers and had them build him his own castle, larger and darker than Ozzie's belittled Fort. Magus then stated that he was the new ruler of the Mystics and that Ozzie should step down to accommodate him. Ozzie, lacking in sense as much as forethought, refused and challenged the warlock. The fight was through in minutes and Ozzie's life almost ended. Magus became the new ruler of the Mystics, and Ozzie, his right hand man. Slash and Flea were spared banishment due to Ozzie's efforts to retain some of his original stature. Magus allowed him this because he felt that he still owed Ozzie for saving his life when he was young.

	Now, as Ozzie hovered stirring the broth, he realized how low he had dropped within such a short period of time. Even though he resented Magus greatly, he still held some pride in the fact that his little protégé had become so powerful.

	"Yeah well... whatever." Ozzie grunted. "Someday, there'll be a statue of me with worshippers walkin' around it and chantin' stuff! You'll see! Now, in the meantime, hand me the pepper..."


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*
	
	
	The foremost lines at Zenan Bridge had been breeched. Decaying bodies of Guardia's soldiers and disfigured corpses of Mystics lay about the bridge, providing a ghastly view of the losses that both sides had suffered. Nonetheless, Mystics continued to charge over the bridge and over the cadavers, in attempt to cut through Guardia's defenses and lay waste to all that lay on the other side of the bridge. Guardian soldiers fought with enough force and power to sustain the majority of the bridge, but the Mystics, endowed with powerful magic, had begun to gain the advantage. There appeared to be no end to the swarms of skeletal troops, Henches, Grimalkins, and Jugglers that constantly poured forth down the wooden planks at the exhausted soldiers.
	
	For days on end, the creatures gushed forth and ravenously attacked the fatigued Guardian forces. The rising of the sun this day marked the third month of warfare on Zenan Bridge, the link between the major northern and southern continents of the world. It was paramount that the bridge be held, for if the bridge was lost, Magus' troops would flow up into the northern continent, and soon all of Guardia would be lost. Both sides had suffered heavy casualties but the Guardian troops were more susceptible due to the fact that their rations were dwindling away. The Mystics seemed not to need nourishment, although the blood lust appeared to placate their hunger.

	The Knight Captain stood on the far end of Zenan Bridge, watching with apprehension as the Mystics slowly dropped back to regroup and assess their losses.

	"Pull back! Retreat for now!" he shouted.

	"This is a better time than any to rest. This is the first time in weeks that they've stopped at all..." he murmured to himself, coldly.

	Slowly, groups of ragged, bedraggled soldiers galumphed with heavy boots over to their Knight Captain. Mud coated the bottoms of their boots and dried blood was visible on almost every part of their armor. Soldiers supported each other on shoulders and arms and the wounded were placed carefully near the first aid area. Those who could still stand formed a circle around the Knight Captain.

	As the Knight Captain looked at the wounded, his heart ached, for he knew that they were out of first aid supplies. His mind reeled and he almost felt sick as he remembered what had happened to the last tonic. The Knight Captain's gaze fell upon a golden helmet resting against the beam at the front of the bridge. His memories began to flood back.

	It was the sixth week of battle with the Mystics. The Knight Captain had informed the infantry of the stratagem that they would employ against the forces of Magus. The present Knight Captain, Terim Langford, was just a general to Guardia's forces and was under the command of the other Knight Captain of that time. 
 
	The Guardian infantry lined up and prepared for their attack. The Knight Captain held up his sword and bellowed his charge. As they rampaged forward, Terim saw the gleam and sparkle of light flashing off of the Knight Captain's golden helmet.

	In no more than twenty minutes, the plan had fallen through and now there were various minor battles being fought along the bridge. Terim had fought with all his might and felt as though he would collapse. He reached into his tunic under his armor and pulled out a small flask. It was the last of the tonics in the first aid kit. More would be coming soon, so Terim felt that it would do no harm to anyone if he had the last one. He drank it down and soon his power began to return to him and he continued fighting.

	Into the night the battle raged, and soon, shifts were being taken. Terim and a group of others rested as others fought. Suddenly, the Knight Captain was carried in with a serious wound. Terim began to panic, seeing as how there were now no medical supplies left. Terim sat at the Knight Captain's side as it was discovered that there were no tonics, midtonics, or ethers left. No one had known that Terim had consumed the last of the infantry's supply.

	With his dying breath, the Knight Captain bestowed Terim with his golden helmet, making him the new Knight Captain with high honor. Terim had never worn the helmet because he knew that his own selfishness caused the Knight Captain's death. He had chosen to wear his old General's helmet instead. A voice brought Terim out of his thoughts.

	"Knight Captain?" asked a soldier, tentatively.

	Terim Captain turned and looked at the soldier. Next to the soldier stood a young man wearing a blue tunic. He had red palm tree hair and his eyes possessed a strange calmness. Next to him stood a young woman in a blue dress with a blond ponytail and next to her stood another young woman, wearing an orange dress and glasses.

	The Knight Captain could hardly hide the trepidation in his voice.

	"Our rations have run out! Have the supplies from Guardia Castle arrived yet?!" 

	"You have no supplies?" gasped the young woman in blue.

	"Don't worry, we'll get you some! Come on, let's go guys!" cried the young woman in orange.

	The young man with the mop hair silently turned and followed obediently.

	The Knight Captain looked around him and realized that he still had his secret weapon. Here was his chance to redeem himself. He gathered the troops around the first aid area and removed a flask from under his armor. The flask contained a very thin looking liquid whose colors changed from blue, to purple, to pink, to red, to orange, and back.

	"Men, this is my gift to you. It's been in my care under strict orders from the King himself to use only in dire situations. I feel that this qualifies. This has been in the royal family for thousands of years, and now you, the Guardian infantry, will be the first in many, many generations, to taste the sweetness of a megaelixer..."

	There were small gasps of shock in the group, but as the magical drink was passed from one man to the next, including the wounded, each one took a drink. Soon, everyone was up and moving and most of the infantry's strength was replenished. And just in time too, for as soon as the last of the drink was downed, a new wave of Mystics poured across the bridge.

	"Charge!" the Knight Captain roared, and they did.
	

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	Schala could see the hatred in her young brother's eyes. It hurt her dearly to see her brother in such pain, but she knew that this was the best way.

	"And so, that is what she intends to do." Schala said quietly.

	Janus scowled and stared downward at the extravagant carpeting that covered the floor. He knew that the Queen had been brewing evil ideas since the death of the King, but he never had known the truth behind the rumors he had heard.

	"So... who is this Lavos?"  Janus asked, holding back tears.

	"Well... it's hard to explain Janus. Lavos has been asleep under the Earth for many years. When he fell from space millions of years ago, he crippled a massive castle and burrowed deep into the Earth, ushering in the ice age that the world below is now experiencing. This is all I know, for it is all that Gaspar will tell me. But Mother-"

	"Don't call her that!" Janus yelled, clenching his fists.

	"Janus..." Schala said gently, as she tried to lay her hand on Janus' shoulder. Janus turned away and defensively folded his arms tightly across his chest.

	Schala sighed and stood up. She slowly walked over to the jewelry box on her dresser and carefully removed a beautiful accessory that gleamed in the sunlight cascading through the open window. It was a deep royal purple mixed together with deep obsidian black. The black and purple swirled and flowed around and into each other fluidly, reacting to the sunlight. 
	
	"Janus, I want you to have this. It's a kind of amulet. If something should happen, it'll protect you." Schala said as she gently fastened it to Janus' clothing.

	"Do you have to go?" Janus asked, forgetting that he was supposed to be angry.

	Schala nodded.

	"I bid you not to follow me Janus. It's in your best interest to remain here until I return. Don't worry, I shouldn't be long."

	Schala turned from her young brother and her purple dress surged like liquid behind her, making an ellipse in the air as it spun around and clung to her other side.

	Janus waited a few minutes, contemplating his choices. He looked to the Amulet Schala had attached to his clothing and was taken by its beauty.

	'She said it should protect me, so I should be fine...' he thought.

	Janus ran from the room and began to make his way to the Hall of the Mammon Machine where Schala told him she would be going. Janus became so immersed in his own thoughts, that he became unaware of his surroundings until he ran headlong into someone wearing a large orange cloak. Janus painfully crashed to the floor.

	The man just laughed and brushed himself off.

	"Where are we going in such a hurry?" he asked, condescendingly.

	"Leave me alone! I need to see Schala!" Janus said, through clenched teeth.

	The man tightened the black patch over his right eye and snickered.

	"In due time, child. As soon I achieve immortality, then we can both see her as much as we like, enh?" he said, sneering down at Janus.

	Janus rushed past the wicked man as he laughed and soon he came to the entrance to the Hall of the Mammon Machine. He peeked around the wall and watched as Schala held her pendant up to the seal on the door. A bluish glow began to throb around Schala and the pendant, which had become very well known throughout Zeal Kingdom. The pendant had enhanced Schala's beauty, a feat that no one in the kingdom had deemed possible. The door opened and, as Schala stepped through, Janus snuck in behind her.

	Janus waited and watched as the Gurus, Schala, and Queen Zeal conversed. He strained his ears to pick up as much as he could. He listened intently, but could only hear faint muffles, for they stood near the center of the large room and the constant pulsing of the Mammon Machine drowned out their words. After what seemed like an eternity, Janus took a deep breath and walked out into the open.
	Schala turned around in shock, and called out Janus' name. Abruptly, a blue portal opened up and a strong force began pulling Janus towards it. Janus looked around in confusion and saw three similar portals opening up next to the Gurus.

	Janus cried out in terror as he was pulled down into the blue swirling portal. He was thrust into a long, deep, blue tunnel. Then, all of the sudden, the portal opened up and Janus emerged on grassy land in the middle of a forest. The portal closed and he looked around, in shock, not sure what to make of what had happened.

	Gradually, Janus became more aware of his surroundings, and of a large green, floating monster glaring at him. Next to the monster, stood two green, imp-like creatures.
The first imp charged under the order of the green monster and Janus quickly dispatched it with a few blows to the head and groin. Soon, there were over ten imps gathering around him.

	"Heh, I guess I should give you a sporting chance, eh little one? Here..." the floating, green monster said. With a wave of his hand, a row of weapons appeared in the grass before Janus.

	Janus' eyes wandered from left to right until his eyes rested on a long, razor-sharp scythe. His eyes narrowed as his eyebrows scrunched down. A wide, sinister grin spread across his face as he reached for his new weapon.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	"Slash, Flea, you stay here and man your posts. This is just precautionary of course, but you gotta stay in practice somehow, eh? Heh..."

	Ozzie rubbed his hands together as Slash floated off to the upper left chamber of the castle. Flea daintily strode to the upper right chamber. Neither of them had any idea that the Mystics on Zenan Bridge were beginning to fall back. A scout had informed Ozzie that Magus' forces were beginning to falter. The steady attacks from the Guardian forces were beginning to take their toll, but only for short periods of time. The absence of supplies and rations were knocking down more soldiers than the Mystics were. 

	However, Ozzie, with a bit of sense, began to worry that the Mystics would soon be defeated and so he put a plan into motion. It was still a fair plan, however simple and rudimentary.

	Making his way to a rarely used area of the castle, Ozzie swallowed his feelings of apprehension. It had been a long time since measures such as these had called for such actions. Ozzie descended a long stairway that was caked in layers of dust and soot. Not even moths dared to inhabit this area of the castle, for a great evil was kept down in the depths of the citadel, below the cellars, sewers, and culverts. Ozzie's breath billowed out from his mouth like steam from a locomotive. The temperature was well below freezing, even though the stone walls were constructed with the blackest rock, which, logically, should have held even the smallest amount of heat.

	As Ozzie descended, the light diminished to a very faint flicker emanating from the two large torches at the entrance. Ozzie held out his left hand and mumbled a small cantrip. A medium-sized fireball came into existence and hovered in the center of his green, outstretched hand, casting an orange-reddish glow around himself and some five steps in front of him.

	Finally, Ozzie reached the bottom. He appeared to be in an expansive chamber of some sort. Had light actually illuminated the room, he would have been surprised to discover that the chamber stretched only some twenty feet wide, but grew to nearly thirty-five feet high. It stretched back for nearly twenty feet, for a creature of great dimensions dwelled inside this chamber.

	Ozzie strode a few feet until he came within range of the sleeping creature. 

	"Rise, my pet. Awaken, it is time again for you to demonstrate your power..."

	A guttural sound slowly began to emanate from the back of the room. A large whoosh of air passed down over Ozzie as two immense skeletal wings slowly emerged from the darkness, spreading wide. Slowly, a bleached white skull was lifted into view and two gargantuan, white leg bones thudded down from their perch. Before Ozzie, stood a disfiguration of bone and muscle, strength and magic. Its large shoulders rolled from behind its back and snapped into place, allowing its massive arms of bone to cease hanging limp. A sound that resembled the low growl of a lion emerged from deep in the throat of the massive creature and resounded off the walls in the chamber, causing it to bounce and resonate from all directions. It stood, stooped over Ozzie, staring with dual black portals that once held eyes.

	Then, it waited for its commands.

	"Zombor..." Ozzie said, slowly.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	The Knight Captain ravenously tore into the dried meat as if he hadn't eaten in his entire life. The rest of the Guardian troops followed suit as the rare, brief period of cease-fire continued. No thank you's had been uttered from the mouths of the soldiers because they were too full of dried meat, but the red-haired young man and his companions knew that the soldiers were grateful. As the soldiers feasted, the companions talked.

	"That was one big slab of jerky," said the blonde haired young woman.
	
	"Slab is right," said the young woman with purple hair, shaking her head in confusion.

	"Though I'm baffled how one piece of jerky can feed an entire army..." she said, shaking her head again.

	The young man with red palm tree hair shrugged and crossed his pill-like arms.

	The Knight Captain finished swallowing down a large hunk of jerky as he walked over to the three companions who had brought the provisions.

	"Sir Crono, will you assist us?" he asked, his voice filled with anticipation.

	The young man thought for a moment and then nodded his head, ruffling the large red stalks and tresses atop his head. The determination in his eyes blared through and the Knight Captain was taken aback by the intensity of the eagerness in such a young fellow.

	The group of three turned to the bridge but the Knight Captain stopped them.

	"Here, take this Gold Helmet," the Knight Captain said, and handed the silent young man the gleaming gold helmet.

	"You got 1 Gold Helmet!" shouted the young woman with the blonde ponytail.

	Suddenly, there was a thunderous crash on the other side of the bridge. All of the Guardian troops as well as the Knight Captain and the three companions, turned their heads and saw a sight so horrific that they became absolutely silent. There, on the other side of Zenan Bridge, stood their death: Zombor.

	The three companions drew their weapons and took off across the bridge.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	Magus awoke on his throne with a start. He groaned as he rested his head in his gloved hands. His dreams had been particularly menacing as of late, but this one surpassed the others. While the others had been vague and passive, this dream was vivid and strong. Considering the circumstances, these types of dreams were not uncommon, for Magus was, at long last, about to confront his ultimate enemy.

	Slowly, Magus arose and began to walk across the vacant chamber, leaving behind no sound, only footprints in the dust on the floor. Suddenly, he stopped. Magus felt a presence, and it wasn't that of Ozzie, Slash, or Flea. Clearing his throat, Magus slowly reached for his scythe that leaned against the wall closest to him.

	Whirling around, Magus brought the tip of his scythe down within millimeters of the head of a figure dressed in black that kneeled behind him in the dust. Unflinching, the figure slowly raised its violet eyes and stared out behind Magus.

	"My master," the figure uttered in a soft, gentle tone.	

	Magus' brow crumpled down to the bridge of his nose as he considered the situation. Someone had slipped into his private chamber. The fact that this intruder had infiltrated the castle, let alone his private chamber, without him being aware of it was unheard of. And he called Magus 'Master'.

	"Stand," Magus said, gruffly, "and remove your hood."  He lifted his scythe and rested it on his shoulder.

	The figure gradually rose to meet the gaze of a much-interested Magus. The figure pulled off the hood, revealing coffee skin, a small nose, jet-black hair, and a set of shadowy violet eyes and thin, crimson lips. If Magus was shocked about the gender, he didn't show it. The race, however...


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	Slash stood, his feet firmly planted on the carpeted floor of his chamber. His arms were folded and his brow was furled. A deep scowl was etched onto his immobile face and his eyes were squinted nearly to closure at the doorway. Slash hadn't deviated from this position for nearly thirty minutes, for he wanted to appear as formidable as possible when the enemy arrived. 

	Suddenly, Slash let out a blood-curdling cry and spun around clutching his face. 

	"Ah damn it all! Gaah! Not again!" Slash yelled as he slowly stretched his lips.

	"Damn stupid cramps! Why the hell is it takin' 'em so long! The Slasher is ready to spill the blood of the weak and the unworthy! I am so ready to kill! Besides... my face is getting tired..."

	Just then, Slash heard the sound of footsteps and then a battle ensuing outside his chamber door. He quickly brushed himself off and faded away to invisibility. Tentatively, Slash grew a very small frown on his face. Slowly, making sure the cramp was gone, he spread the frown all down his purple lips. 

	'Bring it on...' Slash thought, and let the frown grow to full capacity.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	Magus regarded the young woman harshly.

	"Why are you here? And why do you call me master?  I am nobody's master."

	"Why do you say such things, o Great One? You are the Master of the Mystics, and of myself as well," the woman replied, with enthusiasm. 

	Magus' tone relaxed.

	"What is your name?"

	"My name is Blackmoor and I am your servant!" the woman said hastily and she swiftly knelt down once again, sending up swirls of dust and soot floating into the stale air of the chamber.

	"But you're human. Shouldn't you be here to attempt to destroy me?"

	"Master, I am unlike the others of my kind. They fail to see that our race is inferior to the Mystics. I, for one, am convinced that you are following the correct path, which will enable us humans to realize the failures we have made and to see the Mystics as our teachers and mentors." Blackmoor stated, with passion brimming on her lips.

	Magus sighed quietly. 

	"And what are you doing here? Exactly how did you get here Blackmoor?"

	Blackmoor grinned and her ivory teeth were in stark contrast with her smooth coffee skin. Any opportunity to prove her skills to the Great Magus would be taken and accentuated to its fullest.

	"I had heard rumors of an unreachable stronghold east of Truce. I researched it and retrieved as much information and maps that I could. I... acquired the knowledge from a Guardian Soldier that it was thought to be the Great Magus' lair. After learning this, I became very excited and trained ten times as hard. I am very skilled in the black arts my Master. I can gain entrance to any fortress, castle, stronghold, citadel, palace, bastion-"

	"Yes, but how did you find my castle?" Magus asked impatiently.

	"It was quite simple actually..." Blackmoor looked to the ground, awkwardly. 

	"I had also heard rumors of a Magic Cave southeast of the Denadoro Mountain Range. So I... acquired the necessary supplies and traveled to the Denadoro Mountains. I traveled southeast from the mountains and found the Magic Cave as was rumored. The Guardian Soldier had told me that it was believed to be the pathway to your castle, but I found no entrance or even the slightest hole anywhere on the premises. Lucky for me, there was a small fishing boat nearby. So I... acquired it from its owner and sailed out over the sea until I found the shores of a large landmass. Upon it, sat your castle, my Master. There seemed to be very few guards and so I slipped from crevice to crevice and scaled the side of the landmass. Soon, I gained entrance. I referred to a very sketchy drawing rumored to be the details of the interior of your castle, which I had... acquired from the black market some time earlier. I presumed the largest chamber to be for ceremonial purposes, and so the second largest must have been for your throne, my Master. I see I was correct..." Blackmoor's violet eyes sparkled with a strange iridescence as she completed her monologue.

	Magus' eyes narrowed further with each pause before the word 'acquired'.

	"How did you 'acquire' your supplies and information? I doubt anyone can just ask and receive such knowledge and gear. Besides, you're a woman. Any man would be turned away when asking about such things unless they were in the Guardian Army. And rumors float easily through town and are insubstantial so the people can get away with that much."

	Blackmoor blinked innocently.

	"My Master, I stole what I needed to and dispatched who I needed to. Besides, a woman is more likely to 'acquire' information from a Guardian Soldier than any man could…" 

	Blackmoor's stance became provocative as she spoke.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	"I am just so beautiful! It's just unbelievable! Those morons are lucky that I was a bat when they made their way through the Magic Cave, otherwise they would have fallen
hopelessly in love with me!" Flea giggled, looking into a mirror.

	Flea sighed and began to pace back and forth along the length of the chamber. Flea had waited for quite a while to encounter the enemy, and was becoming paranoid.

	"Did Slash kill them already? No! That's not fair! I want my turn! That stupid selfish, purple squid! I want to be the one to destroy them! I never get anything! Ooh, he'll have to deal with me soon enough if he didn't even think to save me one!"

	After hearing that Ozzie had failed to stop the enemy at Zenan Bridge, Flea's spirits had risen because the enemy would make its way to the castle. And soon, they would have to die.

	Flea's ears picked up noises of an altercation outside the chamber.
	"Ooooh, visitors!" Flea chuckled pleasantly, and turned into a bat to hide in the rafters of the chamber.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	Magus' disapproval was evident in his powerful frown.

	"My Master, I- I thought you would be pleased that I went to such lengths just to meet you and join you." Blackmoor said, her confusion mixing with her apprehension.

	"I am not a thief, Blackmoor.  The Mystics are not a guild of crooks. And we don't sell our bodies for information. If we need information, we get it honestly. We do not kill unless it's necessary. Such as this war." Magus stated, squarely.

	"But my Master," stammered Blackmoor. "My love is only for you! Not the humans! I hoped that you would see past the fact that I am human and understand that my allegience is with you! I've done this all for you, my Master! I wish to join you!"

	"You are not needed. I do not desire a human within my ranks. A human fighting on the side of the Mystics? It will not happen. Besides, you know too much." Magus turned and walked away from Blackmoor.

	"My master! What shall I do then? I am nothing without your guidance!" Blackmoor called, desperately.

	Magus pulled his gloves tighter over his hands as he turned to face Blackmoor.

	"You die."

	Magus pointed the floor with his left hand and began to make circular movements with it as he pointed in Blackmoor's direction with his right hand.

	Blackmoor's cries of confusion were drowned out as a flash quickly illuminated the room and a large black void opened up behind her. A strong gale began to blow through the chamber in the direction of the void. Magus pointed directly at Blackmoor and the freezing gusts began to force her backward into the drawing energy of the void. A loud, unearthly rumbling sound resounded throughout the chamber as Blackmoor frantically reached out to Magus. 

	"Please! My master, I-!"  Blackmoor's words were sucked down into the void along with Blackmoor herself. Swiftly, the gale vanished and the portal sealed itself shut. Magus took a long look at the empty chamber and turned to leave. The footprints Magus had left behind had vanished as well as all the rest of the dust and soot in the entire room.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	Ozzie tossed another pile of soil into the corner of his square prison.

	"Damn stupid kids! My shield was invincible! How could they have-?"

	Ozzie looked up out of the square, earthly prison he had been dropped into, ending his fight with the enemy. His shield had proven useful, as all physical and magical attacks on his person were rendered ineffective. Too bad he had forgotten about the trap door he had set in case of emergencies.

	Ozzie dug another handful of soil and heaped it into the corner where he was building a large pile. Soon, he hoped to gather enough soil to build a mound large enough for him to climb up and get out of his muddy cell. The hole was quite deep though, and he would be digging for quite some time until any progress was made.

	"My hands are so raw! I can't do this! Stupid Slash and Flea! They shoulda gotten rid of those little wretches before they even got to me! And my poor Zombor! It took me years to construct that abomination! And now I gotta go build another one!"

	Ozzie fumed with anger as he took a shard of his broken shield and began to tear away at the dirt walls. As he jammed the shard into a crevice of the dirt wall, he heard a low rumbling.

	Ozzie looked up just in time to see a large chunk of earth spilling down upon him.

	"Oh heaven help me..." Ozzie muttered as the heavy loam submerged him.


	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*


	With a wave of his hand, Magus lit the two fires in the hands of the horned figure serving as the altar. Strangely, Magus felt no fear as he underwent the process that he had taken so long to perfect. Finally, the time had arrived for him to confront his true enemy.
Magus raised his arms to his side and stood in the luminosity of the ceremonial fires. The red-orange glow reflected off the altar, making it appear to have a life force, pulsing and throbbing with each heartbeat. The heat of the fire reached Magus' pale blue face, but he disregarded the discomfort.

	Magus reached far back into his mind and concentrated on his goal. He had performed numerous summoning ceremonies before, but never one with such crucial meaning. He could only hope that he had enough power to summon a being with such intense energy. Magus knew the dangers of attempting to summon such a force, but he felt confident that he would make for a good challenge to the creature.
	Suddenly, Magus felt a flicker in the little bit of his psyche he left behind for safety. The enemy had defeated the three roadblocks that had been set up to deter them. The enemy was stronger then expected. But it was too late now. They would never reach him in time to prevent him from finishing his task. But just maybe...

	Magus began to chant, quietly at first, the arcane phrases he had etched into his encyclopedic mind. As each phrase was uttered, the magical aura that Magus felt emanating from the altar began to grow in strength.

	Now the enemy was ascending the stairs winding around the tower of the castle. No matter. The summoning was nearly finished and Magus would achieve his objective.
Now the enemy was in the chamber directly above. It didn't make any difference, for he would finish in time. But maybe...

	"Nuega Ziena Zieber Zom..." 

	The enemy was at the top of the stairwell.

	"Now the chosen time has come..."

	The enemy was at the doorway.

	"Exchange this world for..."

	The enemy was in the room.

	The twenty-nine blue fires lining the room suddenly erupted into existence. A pang of pain shot through Magus' body and his mind boomeranged back to the ceremonial chamber. The pain he felt reminded him of an old wound he had suffered in his past.

	'The Masamune...'  Magus thought in disbelief.

	And then, he recognized the presence of the wielder.

	'Glenn...' Magus thought.



The End