Mystical Roots

[07.30.01] » by Prince Io

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