Tides Of Chaos Prelude

It is two months after the defeat of Lavos. Lucca has been trying to re-open the Gates so that they might visit their friends again. Marle has been learning everything she can from Taban, so she can assist them. And Crono? Well, Crono hasn't really been himself lately, all that time at the bar in Porre...


Tides Of Chaos Chapter 1

By John Donahue

Crono staggered out of the Flaming Blade Tavern, nearly wasted.

"Hey, Crono!" the Barkeep yelled, "That'll be 100 gold!"

"Put it on my tab!" Crono yelled back.

"Gee, that makes it...about 10,582 you owe!"

"Yeah, whatever," Crono mumbled before he dropped to the ground, fast asleep.


"Lucca, I'm worried about Crono," Marle said, "he didn't come back last night, and I think that he might be off somewhere again..."

"Marle, I'm sure he's fine," Lucca said. What she didn't say was the obvious. Crono was probably drunk, sleeping on the dirt. "Now go home, get a good night's rest, and come back tomorrow."

"Okay, see you tomorrow."


The Next Day...

The next day, Crono awoke with a splitting headache. He was also, unfortunately, sober. But instead of going back to the bar, he headed home. When he got there, he shouted,

"Mom, I'm home!"

"Crono, where have you been? Wait, don't tell me. You were down at Porre, drinking, weren't you?"

"Well, um, yes, I guess so..."

"Crono, until you get over this drinking of yours, I don't want you here."


"I said, GET OUT!"

Crono was shocked. His own mother, throwing him out? With a push, Crono was outside. Marle and Lucca, walking up to the house, had stopped dead when they heard this. "Crono, I," Marle began.

"Leave me alone!" Crono yelled, and ran, ran faster than he had ever run before...straight toward the dock, where the next ferry was bound for Porre.

"Oh, dear," Marle began, "this isn't good."


As he walked up to the tavern door, the teenager thought he heard yelling inside. When he got to the door, he knew a bar fight was in progress. Quickly he went in to see what was going on. A kid, 17 or 18 by the looks of him, wearing a faded blue tunic and sporting red, spiky hair, and a samurai sword was easily holding off three well-built men of about 25 with his right hand, and sipping a beer with his left. Dropping his mug down on the bar, he quickly said, "Fill 'er up," and went back to fighting. Dropping the men over his shoulder, he picked up his beer, stepped over the men where they lay unconscious on the ground, and sat down on his stool, without a word. Now, the boy only knew a few people who could drop men like that, only three of which were teenagers, and since he was one, that narrowed it down to two, but he didn't know which one this kid was.

Sitting in the stool next to the odd, spiky-haired teen, he ordered a beer. After he drank it, he asked the Barkeep about the HELP WANTED poster on the window. After getting the details, he took the job. Then the Barkeep asked, "What's your name, son?" The boy replied, "Dariun is my name. Just call me Dar."


Over the next few weeks, the Barkeep and Dariun became great friends. He even let Dar hang his blade over the mantle. They were so good friends, that one day Dar told him his deepest, darkest secret. He commanded magic, the element of Fire. The spiky-haired teen stirred at this. "Really?" he asked.

"Really," Dar said.

"Well, then, I think there's someone you'd like to meet. Oh, yes, my name is Crono."


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