It's Called Memories Of Crono

By Samus

Schala was cold to the marrow of her bones as she descended the mountain known as Death Peak. Ahead of her, the Prophet-- Magus, as he called himself-- was dressed for the weather, but Schala was not, and the snowy wind whipped around her soaked, dragging cloak. Despite of the torturous chill, she did her best to look proud and secure. Showing discomfort would be unproper for a sorceress, especially one from the royal line of Zeal.

The Prophet had been explaining to Schala why she had been suddenly torn from the palace where she was only moments ago. According to Magus, Schala was now in the future of her world, and he had saved her from death at the jaws of a power called Lavos. Magus also explained that Schala's gratitude should be toward Crono, a young man that had come from the future and died in saving her-- died, that is, until he was rescued by time travel. It was an incredibly confusing story, so confusing that Schala had no choice but to believe it as the truth.

The winds at the base of the mountain were relentless, so strong that Schala was-- much to her dislike-- forced to hold onto Magus for support. The sorceress sensed that her companion enjoyed this, and wondered: why would someone who had acted so harshly to her before be so protective... and go out of his way to rescue her now?

At the bottom of the mountain the air was mild, and Schala could at last breathe easily. "Where are you taking me?" she ventured to ask.

Magus stepped away, facing the edge of the endless water. The sun was setting, and beyond the thick clouds rolling from the mountains was a glowing red sky. "Levitate," Magus replied.

"What?" breathed Schala.

"Have you mastered advanced levitation?" asked Magus deliberately.

"Yes..." was the hesitant reply.

Magus smiled as if he'd already known the answer. His body suddenly lifted off the rocky ground. "Then follow me."

Chanting a few arcane words, Schala floated herself into the air and over the shining sea. Magus in the lead, the pair soared low over the chill water. The stars were sparse in the twilight sky, but the paired, cold moons peeked their white light through the quilt of clouds and onto the land-bound travelers.

The next hint of light was a dull, golden glow on the horizon. "There," said Magus, pointing to the line of warmth. The single word was the first thing he had said since his levitation.

As Schala neared, she saw that the glow was man-made, coming from the far shore. The light was the city, a city of glass houses and endless day, where life without light was unthinkable. Like Schala's home, Zeal, only-- could this be true?-- even more advanced, advanced enough to make the Kingdom of Zeal look as if it was designed by children. Schala gasped as she got a closer look at the city of metal and gold, and wanted more than anything to set down in the distant place, just to view the wonders and speak to the superior people.

"They don't use magic," Magus stated. Schala was dumbfounded. "But, it isn't all as it seems."

Magus veered off course. "And now you have your proof. I'm not taking you to the city."

"But... why?" Schala questioned, though she followed the mage's path of flight.

Magus gained altitude as he spoke, and his words were carried back to Schala on the wind. "I have to show you another place. It'll be easier this way."

Schala had to wonder what he meant.

After a flight over concrete land, Magus, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight, touched down on a stone path. He reached out his hand for Schala's, but she refused it as she dropped lightly to the ground. Turning his pale face apathetically away, Magus gestured his gloved hand to a grove of trees shrouded in night. Schala squinted to see what he was pointing at, and could barely discern two rows of statues that were decorating the grove.

Schala's heart fluttered with anxiety as she approached the first of the larger-than-life, marble statues. An artificial light was pointed up at it, so that from the front, the statue's features were clear. It was of a young girl poised with a crossbow. The eyes, though sightless, were bright, reflecting the strong spirit of the honored heroine. In the magicless light Schala could read the inscription on the base: "Marle"..."Princess Nadia 'Marle' of Guardia, later, Queen..."; a short description on her titles, along with some paired numbers, the meaning of which Schala didn't understand...

"This is one of the children that fought Lavos with us," realized Schala.

"Indeed," Magus replied. "These seven statues were raised in the year 1999, to honor the memories of those who saved the world by destroying Lavos." He sighed. "How truly great their contribution was was never fully realized. No one even visits this memorial anymore; in fact, it's now under consideration for demolition. People want more cities, not this solemn place."

"But, how do you mean, 'memories of'?" wondered Schala. "You mean they all..."

"A lot happens in a thousand years." asserted Magus.

Schala looked up at the next statue in the row: a young man with odd hair and a sword, posed like a hero. "This is morbid," the sorceress hissed. "Did you bring me to this place to mock me? To show me your triumph over these people?"

"No, I needed to show you--"

"Well, I believe your story about the 'future' now," Schala sobbed. "And whatever it is you wanted me to feel, I've felt it today. I'm intimidated. You have me now! So just do whatever it is you want to do, or else take me home!"

"I told you, I can't. There isn't a--"

"You can do it. You just don't want to!" Schala was now shouting through blinding tears. "You're torturing me, and you love it!"

"Just listen to me!" Magus yelled. "Can't you just stop and listen?!"

"I don't want to hear it! Just leave me alone!"

"Fine," spat Magus. "If that's the way you feel about it, then, fine." He reached up to his neck and tore away a tiny object; Schala saw a thin chain snap. The trinket dropped to the ground with a clatter. "You should have this back."

Schala turned her back despite her curiosity, and found herself staring straight up into the boy Crono's heroic gaze. The statue looked almost disappointed... A moment of stillness passed before Schala picked up the object from the ground. It was a small, crimson, irregular jewel. "This is the amulet I gave Janus, the other day," Schala stated dryly.

Magus, his back facing Schala, did not answer, seeming more intent on the blade of his scythe than his companion.

"How did you get this?" Schala asked. "Are you low enough to steal from children? Did you--"

"Stop accusing me and look at the statues. There's a reason I brought you here." The words echoed on the soft wind.

For a second, Schala only stared, then glanced over at the base of the Crono statue. Softly, she moved down the path, absorbing the sight of each quiet monument. They were all arranged with trees alternating between them, so that Schala could only view one at a time. Each memorial was expertly carved-- bringing out the best in its subject. Schala remembered each person vaguely as she passed them: the girl with thick glasses looked like a radiant beauty; the human-frog creature looked proud and strong; the metal man; the primitive woman...

Schala froze. The seventh statue was of Magus. Just as he was in person, exact in every detail. Schala had to wrestle her eyes away from the monument's accusing stare before she could read the inscription on the base. "Magus, leader of the Mystics; also Prince Janus of Zeal 12,006 BC --"

Schala read it again. And again... and each time, in cold lettering, it stated that this man was her brother. Schala looked at the amulet she was still holding, and back to Magus, and his statue, and each time she read the words, they were inarguably true.

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

"If I had just told you," Magus replied, "would you have believed it?"

Schala swallowed. She looked down at the amulet again. "How? What happened to you?"

"Time travel happened to me. It was Lavos that caused it. I grew up in another time, then I returned."

"Why? Why did you come back?"

"It was an accident tha--"

"And why were you so cruel to them?" She glanced at the rows of statues. "And... to me?" The last word was barely audible.

For a moment, the only sound was the night breeze whistling through the trees in the grove. Magus glanced slowly away, as if the figure of the Frog, to his right, had suddenly caught his eye.

"There is no answer, is there?" Schala asked, her voice rising.

Magus turned away and slammed his scythe to the ground. It bounced against the light directed at the Frog statue, and clattered harmlessly to the stone.

"So just leave, then," spat Schala. "Whether you saved my life or not, whether you're my brother or not, you can just leave me here! But, Janus, if you..."

"Don't call me Janus," Magus suddenly retorted. "Janus was a spoiled, arrogant child, completely ignorant to all the evil around him! I used to be him... But I'm not anymore!"

"You're right. Janus was a person who cared about me."

"Janus didn't care about anyone but himself."

"Then he hasn't changed!" yelled Schala.

Magus spun around and took a calm step toward Schala. "Look into these eyes, and tell me I'm still the child you remember," Magus demanded, advancing. The red irises began to glow. Schala drew back. "It seems so evil, and wrong, doesn't it? And everything seemed good, and right, in Zeal... Didn't it? But I know how to save the world now, instead of just abusing it."

The glow dimmed. "You are a good person, Schala," Magus continued. "Janus thought that was your weakness. Maybe the Prophet did, too. But I've changed more than you realize, and I see now that your purity... is your strength."

Schala choked. "So you destroyed Lavos... as you wanted to." She stopped. "But, what about our mother?"

"Our mother had the fate that would have been Janus's," evaded Magus. "It was merciful, really... Releasing her from her own evil."

"Was it you who...?"

"It took all of us to do it," the mage stated, glancing at the statues again.

Schala sighed. "I knew it would end that way for her... It wasn't right..." Her eyes widened. "But if Mother is dead... Aren't you the king?"

"What?" Magus had been caught unaware.

"As the prince... You're next in line. You could be the ruler of Zeal."

"Schala, I've told you before. There is no more Zeal."

"Isn't there anything..."

"A rock," Magus stated. "There's nothing but a rock and some scattered people."

"People who need a ruler." Schala put the little amulet into Magus's gloved hand. "Like you. You have magic now."

"Magic does not make a person a leader. Haven't you learned anything yet?! Power is simply not enough!" Magus sighed. "Besides, I've turned my back on the ignorance of Zeal. Let them find their own way. They were so smart before--"

"And I was one of them. And like it or not, so are you. Everyone makes mistakes."

"You realized the mistake in time. But the rest of them--"

"You doubt yourself, don't you?" interrupted Schala. Magus's argument ceased. "You're afraid of making the same mistake." She stepped over to where Magus had carelessly placed his scythe. "That's the reason you won't return to Zeal. It's not this feigned contempt; it's self-doubt that's holding you back." Schala lifted the scythe off the ground as her brother opened his mouth to counter. "You can deny it," the princess continued," but I can tell I've hit the mark. Well, if you're too afraid to rule Zeal, take me home--" she hoisted the scythe like a scepter-- "and I'll do it."

"Don't be stubborn. Zeal's just not good enough for us anymore. We could--"

Schala's eyes lit up. "And that's the reason you acted so cruel and dark: because you were afraid you couldn't get respected any other way! You belittle everyone else because you're unsure of yourself!" She was stunned with her sudden revelation. "You're afraid of mistakes and yourself!"

"Stop!" yelled Magus. "I'll do it! I'll rule Zeal, if that's what it takes to prove to that I am not afraid!"

Schala smiled, and handed Magus the scythe. "Do you know the way home from here?"

Accepting his weapon, Magus found his hand touching Schala's. He returned her smile, then realized what he'd said. A lifetime of ruling Zeal: it had seemed a simple answer a moment ago. Suddenly, it was a bigger commitment than he'd ever made before... But somehow, that would be all right.

He only had to think a moment to answer Schala's question, as he had planned out the return beforehand. "Some time, when I have the chance, I'll go into the past, and tell someone to pick us up now." He looked up into the cloudy sky. "Any minute now, they'll arrive."

Schala wrinkled up her face, doubting the twisted logic. "How will that...?"

Then she saw the flying machine appear over the horizon. It landed outside of the grove, and the lone pilot stepped off. The pilot entered the grove between a tree and the statue of herself.

"Statues, just like you said," remarked the thin young girl. She turned, and stepped backward at the vision of her giant self. "Weird... But I like it. It really should say 'Lucca the Great', though..."

"Lucca," Magus called, "you remember Schala... And Schala-- Lucca."

Lucca averted her amplified eyes from her image to the siblings. "Schala? You're still alive?" She rushed over. "You found her, Magus!" Lucca looked straight at Schala, and added: "I never got a chance to thank you."

"Taking us home is thanks enough," assured Schala.

"You bet," said the inventor with a grin. Her face fell suddenly, and she turned around. "Wait a minute. Did that statue say what year I die?"

Magus grabbed Lucca's arm to hold her back. "Maybe there's some things we don't need to know." He looked at Schala. "We better leave now if we're going to," he added as he turned toward Lucca's traveling machine.

"Coming," Schala replied. But she held back for a moment, and stepped over to her brother's monument.

Maybe in her shock at learning Magus's identity, she simply hadn't noticed the second date engraved on the statue's base. Or maybe it had just appeared there... The numbers were so impersonal to look at, but they were a shocking reminder of human mortality. Remembering oneself...

Who knows, Schala asked herself, what the future holds? The statue of Magus did. It knew the past that was the present, the future that was the past, and the present that was the future. Schala realized that, indirectly, it was her words that killed her brother. To return to the past was to end up being no more than a memory. And to remain in the future was to lose a place in the scheme of the world...

A tear in her eye, Schala left the statuary grove. She would make a difference in her own time, and if memory prevailed... in memory she would live on.

.

The End

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--Amanda Flowers

--(lanzjon@delphi.com) ; (SamusStar@aol.com)

--Patron of the Fifth Dream ; Wielder of the Second Truth

--"In that I can be no one but myself, I can say only my own lines.

--So sad, to be so constrained."

-- --Mephista, Secret of Evermore

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Samus' Fanfiction