Chrono Trigger: Descent Prologue
Before the Storm...
By Divan
"For a self-proclaimed scientist, you are remarkably illogical." Said the
quizzical creature, who somehow managed to be pompous despite its inherently
comedic bearing and stature, "I seem to observe a tendency that, when it
comes to a certain mutual acquaintance, your reactions becomes predictably
lacking in reason."
Lucca sighed. And not for the first time in the day either. Not half a month
after the construction of the first true artificial intelligence on the planet,
a scientific break through of no small proportion, she is already regretting
it. Attempting to hide her irritation, rather unsuccessfully, she answered.
"My dear Hermes, if I am as illogical as you claim, you wouldn’t be
able predict my reactions, however unreasonable they may be, now would you?"
My god, a part of Lucca detachedly thought, I am beginning to sound like
this creature. It had taken Lucca the better part of a year to complete her
master (mistress?) piece, a humanoid artificial intelligence. Just why she
choose such a cumbersome mode of locomotion, as Hermes had frequently pointed
out, is beyond her. As a challenge perhaps, something to take her mind off
things, or simply to commemorate her friend, Prometheus, better known as
Robo (Singularly unimaginative. How typically Marle). Or most likely, a
combination of all the above. She did name Hermes in the same language as
Prometheus, the ancient tongue of Zeal. How the language survived an ice
age is beyond her, though their erstwhile ally, Magus, had more than once
pointed out disdainfully that the version they learn is a corrupted form
of earthbound Zeal. Yet they managed to communicate. Marle learnt Zeal as
a matter of course, part of the education of any self-respecting princess,
and she learnt it to study ancient texts that might provide her with inspiration
(They did build the Blackbird and the Mammon Machine, things yet beyond the
technological capability of this time, not to mention the Wings of Time).
True, Crono hardly speaks any Zeal (he hardly speaks for that matter), but
his very presence seems to exude power…
"And your mind wanders." Quipped Hermes.
Involuntarily, Lucca found colour rising to her cheeks. "Damned the machine."
She muttered under her breath.
"What was that my omnipotent creator? Oh, and to answer your earlier question,
I used the word illogical advisedly. It implies a manifest inability to correlate
actions with observed facts, such as the generally accepted fact that backing
in a room as cluttered as this one is not a good idea. Not unpredictability.
In fact I might go so far as to list the symptoms. Stammering uncontrollably,
blushing furiously, acting like a wet hen…"
"Stop it!" Said Lucca, finally snapped. "Correct me if I am wrong. But I
did know him quite a lot longer than you did, and anyway how I act, and who
I choose to associate with, is no business of yours!"
If Hermes is at all annoyed, he did not show it. "Calm my dear mistress,
I was merely attempting to assist you in your… romantic endeavours…"
"WELL DON’T! Shut up or I swear to god I will turn you off!" Shouted
Lucca at the top of her considerable lungs. Gloomily she thought, I am baited
by a machine. Again.
That did the trick. As it nearly always does. Hermes, the blue, two feet
tall replica of Robo felt silent and sunk into his usually niche in the corner
of the workroom.
"I shall be here if you need me." He said, somehow managed to project a sense
of injured dignity without sacrificing the least in sarcasm, and felt into
the robotic sleep mode.
Lucca can not help but feel a little guilty. Perhaps it was a little unfair
of her to threaten somebody who has no way to fight back with the equivalent
of oblivion. And her mood is ruined anyway, and no fruitful work will be
done today. Closing her eyes in exasperation, Lucca decided that a stroll
in the woods would be the answer.
* * *
Taban watched in silence as his daughter left the house. A sense of ineffable
sadness gnaws at his heart. He can tell that his daughter is troubled, and
would do anything to help her. Its just that, well, it is easier said than
done. Lucca had never been a particularly communicative child, and their
early relationship had been some what strained, as he used to have to work
every day on his inventions to keep his family afloat (So his inventions
are the major financial drain, but a man has got to have a hobby hasn’t
he?), neglecting his child in consequence. It was not until recently that
he realised how important his family is to him. It torn him to bits that
he was unable to accompany his daughter in her noble quest to save the world
(Taban can not help but think that perhaps it isn’t quite the only reason),
but he knows that he would be more of a hindrance than a help. Besides labouring
day after day to create items that would protect his daughter, he is forced
to put up a jovial face, if only to sooth his dear Lucca. He could still
recall vividly the time when Lucca returned, her complexions pale, her actions
listless, and worst of all, her normally twinkling (or was it the glasses?)
eyes had a hollow look. She had refused to speak to her parents about it,
despite Lara’s pleading and his cajoling. She had locked herself in
her room for a week, and emerged, looking even more fragile in her state
of enervation. Lara had been most worry when she heard that she had to leave
again, but Taban allowed her to. Because he fancied that he saw a ray of
hope in her eyes. It was not until much later that he learnt that Crono had
died, and his daughter had spend a whole week recombining and producing a
viable sample of his DNA necessary to save him. Besides other things. And
than it dawned upon him that his daughter is in love. Deeper than anyone
imagined.
A soft hand touched his shoulder, putting him out of her reverie. He turned
his head and smiled to his wife, sharing a moment of silent communion.
"I am worried too. But you were right. ‘Tis better to have loved and
lost than not at all. However much we wish our daughter happiness, for her
to move on, for somebody it just isn’t possible. I guess it’s in
the blood."
Taban’s smile broadens just a little, acknowledging his wife’s
reference. Whilst many are able to move to pasture new, some people have
such powerful love that once they loved, it lasts forever. Taban had underwent
several quests to save his wife from the grasp of death, and had no doubts
that Lara would do the same. No doubt about that, Lucca hails from a long
line of heroes.
* * *
Lucca, now changed into her casual attire, a simple pullover with the obligatory spandex shorts (Taban’s new fabric. Stupid name), is standing on the path to the beach. It is getting dark, and she is feeling more than a light chill on her skin. And yet the gentle caress of the light breeze calls to her, and the thought of the sound of waves crashing against the rocks on the beach offers a chance to ease her troubled mind. Having made up her mind, Lucca began to walk towards the rocky cape.
* * *
Finally, it opened. After aeons of patience, his chance finally came. He
was not excited. In fact he hardly feels anything at all. Millennia spent
doing nothing more than waiting does that to you. One part of his consciousness
dimly recalls a time when he feels, just like his friends.
Friends. So long ago. What have I done? What happened? Who did this? Why?
Why? WHY?
Shaking his head, as if to clear it, an unnecessary remnant of his breathing
days, the being prepares himself to be transported.
Soon. It would be time to set the wrong things right.
And than he felt oblivion.
* * *
Sitting on a rock by the sea, Lucca realised that it was futile for her to
take her mind off things and relax. Collecting her stray thoughts, Lucca
began to reflect upon the event that conspired to change her life. In the
space of a year she turned from simple (alright, not so simple) inventor
to one of the saviours of the world. For better or for worse she honestly
does not know. But it did save the world. So it was worthwhile. And yet she
can not help but wonder. It all started with Marle running into Crono. What
if…
Mentally she scolded herself for even sporting such thoughts. How can she
be so selfish? Trading a world’s future and the ruin of countless others
for her own happiness can only be described as an heinous act of crime, even
in the name of love. No. It wouldn’t even be that. Love is the ultimate
manifestation of the good in humanity, of selflessness. The other would be
a selfish act unworthy of the name. And if he could love someone else, he
would have loved someone else anyway. Some things are not meant to be.
If Hermes were here, he would certainly comment upon the lack of logic.
The thought of the idiosyncratic robot can not help but bring a smile to
her face, lifting her spirits somewhat. Deciding that she has had enough
contemplation (she seem to be doing an awful lot of that lately) for the
evening, she decided to return.
Getting up slowly and stretching her wearied body, Lucca prepares to walk
back to the house.
It was then something caught her attention.
It was nothing more than a flicker, and a momentary sense of dislocation.
Warily she looked around for any sign, discovering none. Deciding that it
was a mere product of her tired mind, Lucca started on her journey back.