Chronicles of Zeal's Final Days

By Lance

Peace. I am Lance. I wanted to say hello, and to thank you for reading my newest fanfic. Before you begin, let me say a few things.

First of all, I want to point out that there are basically no original characters in this story. For some reason I just can't read Fan Fictions that use original characters. It immediately turns me off to whatever story's being told. ...Actually, new villains don't really bother me, as often when an original villain is introduced he's needed for the story to go on. Whenever I see an original protagonist though, I go for the back button like THAT... Hence, any new characters in this Fanfiction play little part other then moving the plot along. They don't have any major part in the script save for giving the main characters and the reader information, and maybe helping with the atmosphere.

...I don't really know why I felt the need to point that out, I just did...

Also, I write the dialouge of the story in script form. Yes, script form. Maybe I'm getting the wrong idea about this, but it seems the longer, more detailed stories are always done in narrative. Meanwhile the stupider, sillier fanfics are told in script. Now I know a few people might not read this story (Like my bother, to a certain extent) simply because of this, but please at least give the story a chance. The dialouge is in script-form, yes, but it is fairly descriptive. I think part of the reason for the dialouge, is my love of movies.

...Yes, I am lazy, and I don't wanna have to type "She said" or something similar after every piece of dialouge, but I think my movie-loving nature has something to do with it too. I just love the film industry so much. I would even say it's my favorite form of story-telling. These all started as scripts, and I think that you should be able to read this without having to be hoity-toity over the way the dialouge is written.

...If you're not the type of arrogant asshole who would do that, I apologize for my rudeness.

Then again, isturning away from the story simply because of the dialouge's written form really that different from me turning away because the story features a new character? I need to take a look at myself...

And also in retrospect, script-form doesn't make a story like a film. It's said that a movie is written three times- once on paper in the script, again during filming where things may change, and again in editing. So I guess I'll just have to chalk the form of the script up to my laziness.
I'm getting off topic here. Please read the story and tell me what you think. Reviews are very appriciated.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The scene is just outside the city of Kajar. The sun shines upon the just-tall-enough grass. Wildflowers are scattered here and there, bees buzzing to each one happily. The dirt pathes that went from skyway-to-skyway were soft and somehow seemed simple and easy to walk over, dispite their length. The waters of the river shone brightly in the sun, as they flowed from their source in the palace, down the continent, and over the edge into the bitter, frozen sea below. It was great for swimming, as the water was the pinnicle of purity, and just cool enough to not be cold to the diver. Yes, it was a perfect day in Zeal.

Of course, in Zeal, every day is perfect.

We find Schala sitting down in the grass underneath a weeping willow. She had a book in her lap, and was loosely writing something in it. There were some of the Kajar scientists by the river, soaking their feet. She could barely hear their mutterings about Belthasar and dreamstone, when a shadow fell over her. Schala looked up to see somebody standing over her.

Melleck: Hey, Schala.

Schala: Oh, uh... Hey, Melleck.

Melleck sits down next to the princess. She's about her age with short white hair. Her red Zeal dress is typical for the people in the palace.

Melleck: I just heard the good news.

Schala: (Still writing) What good news?

Melleck: The news about tomarrow! Tomarrow you get to sit in on your first real Royal Council Meeting!

Schala puts the book aside and looks at her friend.

Schala: I'm just going to be a minor council member. I won't really have that much power for a few months.

Melleck: Don't you get it, Schala? This is the beginning!

Melleck suddenly gets an dreamy, inspired look in her eyes.

Melleck: Tomarrow you'll leave behind all the administrative classes you had throughout your youth! You move forward, taking your place as you uphold the beauty of our society! And as time passes, you make more and more of a difference, until you're leading the council along behind you! As Queen Schala, you'll take our country to places never before dreamed of!

Schala: (slightly embarressed) Um... Melleck, I'm not gonna be Queen. Janus is the heir. He'll be taking the throne once he's old enough...

Melleck: (disinterested) What? ...Oh, right, Janus... (Normally) But this is still a big move up for you! Aren't you excited?

Schala: I'm kinda nervous actually.

Melleck: C'mon! I read somewhere that you're going to be the youngest person ever on the council.

Schala: Yeah, I know. I graduated from my magical classes so early, Mother was able to put me into administrative classes sooner then anybody else...

Melleck: Yeah... But c'mon! Somebody like you is just what this country needs. Not another snooty white-haired guy with spectacles and pressed robes.

Schala opened her mouth to answer when there was a splash and several shocked grasps from the scientists. Both girls turned to see one of the researchers in the river, being swept down toward the horizon.

Schala: Oh, god!

Melleck: Why'd he get so far into the center?

Schala and Melleck both get up and run toward the river. The scientists were running alongside the riverbed as well.

Scientist Pickering: If we don't get to him fast enough, he'll fall off the continent...

Scientist Dolittle: We'renever gonna catch him! The current's moving too fast...

The poor victim was being blown through the river, turned like a twig, unable to regain his sense of balance. Suddenly, something strange happened.

Something large and dark zoomed across the surface of the river. It reached the stream's center just as the victim was passing under it. In one swift, seamless move a leather-gloved hand flew out of the inky mass and grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. The strange Samaritan continued, without stopping, and then dropped him onto the riverbank.

The two girls and the small group of workers blinked, as they continued to run downstream. As they approached the newly-saved researcher, who was now coughing and sputtering on the ground, they could see a man standing nearby. He was very tall, looking to be well over six feet, and wearing a dark blue cloak that obscured practically his entire body from veiw. Even his face was mostly hidden, as the hood fell just past his nose. While it covered alot of his body, the cloak was also very loose and billowing. Once they came near the two, the scientists bent down toward their comrade.

Scientist Pickering: Higgins, are you alright?

Scientist Higgins: (Cough) You... you saved me...

The Prophet: Yes.

Schala and Melleck approached, slightly behind the group of researchers.

Schala: Are you okay?

Scientist Higgins: I think I'll be fine...

The Prophet glances at the two newcomers and then begins to walk away.

Schala: Hey, wait!

He stops, and turns as the two girls run up to him.

Schala: That was really increadible.

Melleck: Yeah. How'd you even seem him with that hood covering your eyes?

The Prophet: Um... thank you...

The group of scientists walk up as well, the soaked Higgins among them.

Scientist Higgins: You really saved my life, sir...

The Prophet: (distracted) It... uh... it was nothing...

The Prophet tried to turn and walk off when Higgins grabbed his arm.

Scientist Higgins: Wait a minute! I want to thank you. Maybe you'd like to come over for dinner tonight.

The Prophet: (distracted) Thanks for the offer, but I've got somewhere I need to be...

Scientist Higgins: Oh um... Okay...

The Prophet walks off toward the city.

Schala: Come to think about it, I've got to go, too.

Melleck: Really? I thought Janus was still in class.

Schala: He is, but I mother's holding a party tonight, and I need to get ready...

Schala moves over to the Willow to get her book...

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Inside her walk-in closet, Schala was adjusting her formal dress. It was a slightly tight dress with shoulder straps thatclung to her body. Once done she was done, she slipped into a rather painful pair of high-heels and walked out into her room. She moved over to the mirror and looked at herself.

The only good thing about high-heels was that they made her look like she was of normal height. She'd always been slightly short and petite for her age. Still, she couldn't stand wearing high-heels for any amount of time. Her mother, meanwhile, almost never seemed to take hers off.

There was a knock at the door, breaking her concentration.

Schala: It's open.

The door opens a crack and Janus pokes his head in.

Janus: Schala?

Schala: Hi, Janus.

Janus walks in slowly, Alfador at his heels. He closes the door behind him.

Janus: You look nice...

Schala: Thanks, Janus. Mother decided to throw a party tonight and she told me to attend.

Janus walks over and sits on Schala's bed as she puts on her earrings in the mirror.

Janus: Why's there a gonna be a party?

Schala: She didn't say. She only annouced it yesterday out of the blue. She said she had big news.

Janus: Um...

Schala turns to look at her brother.

Janus: I don't have to come, do I?

Schala smiles, slightly amused.

Schala: No, this'll go on a while after you go to bed.

Janus sighes, relieved. Schala turns back to the mirror.

Schala: So how were your classes?

Janus: (Slightly Depressed) ...No different...

Schala pauses for a minute and then begins to put her gloves on.

Schala: Don't worry about it. I'm sure things will change.

Janus: (Slightly depressed) Uh-huh... Gaspar said he wanted to talk to you.

Schala: I'll probably see him at the party.

Janus: Okay...

Schala finishes with her gloves and turns to her brother.

Schala: Janus, you're probably gonna be asleep by the time I come back, so I'll just say goodnight now.

Schala bends down and kisses Janus's forehead.

Schala: See you tomarrow, Janus.

Janus: You too, Schala...

She heads toward the door.

Schala: Don't stay up too late just because I'm not here.

She walks out. Janus looks down at Alfador.

Janus: ... Do you think... things will change?

Alfador mews.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Dalton looked himself over in the mirror. Frowning he grabbed a comb and straightened his hair back. Once his ponytail was secure, he gave it aspraying for good measure.

This party was obviously something special. When the Queen threw a party, it was usually an annual thing, like her Christmas balls, or her Peace-Day Banquets. The birthday parties for her andthe Princess alwayswere noted as monumental occasions. If the celebrations weren't annual, they were done because of a monumental event that'd recently occured. A party was already being planned for the completion of the Mammoth Machine, which was monthes away.

However, this was something else. Two nights ago, her Highness rushed out of the master bedroom atthree in the morning, still in her nightgown. The hands reported her to be estatic, somehow surging with energy. She ordered for those servants still awake to prepare a ball, to take place as soon as possible.

Obviously, whatever happened, this was going to be something special. The Queen always had a reserved pride about her, but the servants described her as being as giddy as a schoolgirl. For the next few days, when she might have been making sure the celebration would go off without a hitch, she was actually nowhere to be found. In between her council meetings and meals, she stayed locked alone in her room, never letting in anybody else and yelling at visitors. Dalton hadn't even been able to show her his new Blackbird plans.

Smiling, he removed his everyday eyepatch and replaced it with his formal one. The smooth leather of this one had Rubies embroidered around the band. An arrangement of diamonds and rubies was at the center, forming the pattern of a huge red eye. Looking at himself in the mirror he grinned. He was so glad he stopped wearing that glass eye. The way it pointed in any direction made him look brain damaged.

He'd show those plans to her tonight, though. Once at the party, he'd get her alone and grab her approval. He walked over and picked up the blueprints. He rolled them into their carrying-tube and walked out with them safely inhand.

As he went down the hallway to the Main Chamber, he began to ponder the brownie points he'd get once the Blackbird was upgraded. It would go from being the mere pointless "Technological Marvel" that Belthasar built it as, to a mobile fortress. Upon it would be war rooms, holding cells, weapon-development rooms, and a new little invention he called a torrent, which when mounted on the outside of the ship, would fire large amounts of magical spells at enemies.

While he was replaying the specifics of each invention, he failed to notice that somebody was also walking down the hall in the opposite direction. He was the same man seen by Schala and Melleck earlier, slowly walking down the corridor with his head bowed in thought. Neither man noticed the other as theydrew closer. With neither paying attention to where he was going, they bumped shoulders in passing. Dalton's plans fell out of his hands and onto the floor.

Dalton: Watch where you're going you blind arse!

The Prophet gives Dalton a minor glance, but then turns and continues on his way.

Dalton: Did you hear me? Or are you deaf, too?

The Prophet walks on. Dalton snorts in anger and picks up his plans.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The party was already well underway. The high-society members of Zeal, the elites of the entire world, had come in their best robes and jewelry to converse and see what the Queen had in store for them. The robes were all well-pressed and unwrinkled, and the jewelry shone like the stars. The sound of conversation filled the room, as did the rather strong smell of women's perfume.

Schala was currently standing away from all that, toward the wall where she new she wouldn't suffocate.

Gaspar: Schala!

She turned. The Red-Robed Guru of Time was walking toward her.

Schala: Oh, hi Gaspar... I was hoping I might see you.

Gaspar: Heh... The company here does leave something to be desired, doesn't it?

Schala: Janus said you wanted to talk to me.

Gaspar: Hm? Oh, yes... Um...

Gaspar pauses and begins to adjust his hat.

Gaspar: About Janus... Well, the other Gurus and I have been tutoring him for about three years now, and... He's not really... progressing as much as we'd hoped.

Schala: I know, but it's only a matter of time before his magic develops.

Gaspar: That's just it, you see...

The Guru begins to scratch the back of his head, looking uncomfortable.

Gaspar: People are starting to... talk about your brother...

Melchoir: I say, Schala, Gaspar!

Gaspar turns to see his comrade limping up to them, cane in hand.

Melchoir: Good to see you two. I was starting to wonder if I was going to get to see anyone I liked today.

As he neared them, he looked around.

Melchoir: Hey, where's your mother? Won't she be making an appearance?

Schala: I imagine so. She seemed so interested in this party starting.

Gaspar: I haven't seen much of her in the past few days, though.

Schala: Neither have I. I tried to talk to her yesterday at dinner about the time she was spending in her chambers, but she said she would explain it all here.

Melchoir: That's weird...

Melchoir turns and sees another figure walking up. This one in blue-and-white robes with a very aged face and pale skin. A round blue creature is trotting after him. Melchoir went into mock-horror.

Melchoir: (Sarcastically) Good god! It's him!

Gaspar: (Also sarcastically) B-Belthasar! But how? Where have you been all this time?

Melchoir: (Sarcastically) Someone said you were dead!

Belthasar reaches the others, looking irritated. The Nu is close behind him.

Belthasar: (Annoyed) Ah, ha-ha-ha. You people shouldn't mock simple work ethic.

Melchoir: We don't mock your work ethic. We mock the fact that you never leave your laboratory for more then two seconds at a time.

Schala giggles.

Belthasar: You're lucky I showed up at all. One of my workers nearly drowned today.

Schala: Did he fall into the Kajar river?

Belthasar: How'd you know about that?

Schala: I was near there with Melleck the other day.

Belthasar: Oh, well then can you confirm the claim that he plucked out of death by some mystery man in a cloak?

Gaspar: Hm? Was that who saved him?

Belthasar: You know him?

Gaspar thought for a moment.

Gaspar: Uh... yes... there was something I heard recently. Apparently someone came down from Mount Woe a few days ago... The Earthbounders described him in great detail... I think I took the information down into that folderI have onMount Woe information...

Schala: So did they say where he came from?

Gaspar: What? Oh... Well, the weird thing was they said he didn't climb up the mountain at any time. Accourding to them, he just came down one day. He was wounded, so he bought some of their medicine and slept there for the night... then I think they said he was heading off to Zeal...

Melchoir chuckled.

Melchoir: Well, it's not like that would be the first weird thing to happen on Mount Woe...

Belthasar: Which reminds me... Melchoir, I need 40 grams of Dreamstone for the Mammoth Machine.

Melchoir: What? I just gave you 200 five days ago! What happened to that?

Belthasar: Well, it was fine for the central amplifier, but how I need wiring that can channel large amounts of magical energy without melting down, and Dreamstone's the only thing that can do it.

Melchoir: That was all the Dreamstone I had in stock! How much do you think you're going to be using for this thing?

The blue-robed Guru puts a chin to his head.

Belthasar: Well, that's tough to say... The more I look into it, the larger each individual peice seems to need to be... Not to mention how large the casting will have to be...

Schala: But the Earthbounders are already working 12-hour days to mine the Dreamstone out of the Terra Continent. It'd be cruel to make them work any harder.

Belthasar: But no metal carries a magical current like Dreamstone. I can't work with anything else.

Melchoir: (Mockingly) Here's an idea- while we're getting more Dreamstone, how about you do something other then work for a change, hm? (Normally) What time is it?

Gaspar takes out a gold pocket-watch.

Gaspar: Quarter 'til.

Belthasar: Schala, did your mother say exactly when she would arrive? I can hardly wait around all night for her to show up.

Melchoir: Eh. Queen always wants to make an entrance.

Schala: She probably won't be too much longer.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

As the ball rolled back to him he rolled it away again, and once more Alfador went chasing after it. The catbit it viciously and tugged at it with her mouth. Janus liked to play with Alfador like this before he went to bed. Walking up to her, he began to try and strangle the ball away from her. Finally getting it out from between her paws, he lightly tossed it again.

Not lightly enough though, it would seem. The door was open a crack and once the yarn-ball managed to make its way out and into the hall. Alfador bounded after it of course, and pounced upon it outside the door. Janus sighed and stood up. He walked out into the hallway and tried to get it away again so they could go back inside.

Janus suddenly got a very strange feeling. He smelt something... It was the strong smell of blood, filling his nostrils. It smelt like blood was all around him, splattered on the walls and pooled on the ground. He could suddenly hear loud, echoing footsteps coming.

A strange, freakish creature walked toward him. He was draped in long red-stained robes, with shriveled, pale skin underneath. He wore black boots that were blood-stained to the heel. His face looked warped and distorted. It seemed to want to moan in agony, but also had some kind of quiet acceptance in its eyes. Two thick, black, curved horns were protruding from his forehead, scraping the ceiling. Strangely enough, something very bright and endearing object was chained around its neck. It looked like star that had been taken from the sky itself.

Feeling afraid, Janus lowed himself over Alfador and clutched her closely. The creature saw him and came to a halt. The demonic being looked him in the eye. The prince suddenly felt too scared to move. There was a long silence between them.

The Prophet: Huh... It won't get much stranger then this...

He took a step toward the boy.

The Prophet: I wonder... what do you see? Do you see that face that your mother sees?

He came another step closer look down at the child on the floor.

The Prophet: Or do you see the part of me... that's the most like you? Minus the qualities that are my ambition to being here?

Janus blinked.

Janus: Li...Like me?

The Prophet: You don't see what I'm looking for. Or what I'm going to do to it, when I find it...

There is a pause, and the creature turns away.

The Prophet: I bring you no harm, but I can do nothing to stop harm from coming...

It began to walk away. A trail of bloody footprints were left behind it.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Belthasar: So when do you think you could get me that Dreamstone?

Melchoir: I don't know. Could be a few-

Dalton: You geezers wanna move outta the way?

The four turned to see the one eyed General standing beside them. He still has the Blueprints tube under his arm. Melchoir looked behind their group. There was an antique Inn-Table occupying the Main Chamber, which always had a small bottle of brandy with some glasses should any of the blue-bloods need a shot. The guru let out a snort.

Melchoir: Sure are fond of the drink, aren't we, Dalton?

Dalton: What if we are? That a crime, now?

Dalton moves between them and begins to pour himself a drink.

Dalton: So where's the Queen at?

Belthasar: Just what we were wondering.

Gaspar: Makes a point to always be late to her own parties.

Dalton: Well, let's hope she gets here soon. I've got something I gotta show her.

Melchoir: What sort of thing?

Melchoir reaches for the tube under Daltons arm, but the general moves it out of his reach.

Dalton: It's pretty technical. You probably wouldn't understand.

Belthasar: Then let me take a look.

Dalton: Not anything you should be busy with. Just some Blackbird changes I-

Belthasar: Some what? Give me that!

Belthasar snatches the tube from Dalton and begins to open it.

Belthasar: You were never given the authority to make any changes to its design! What kind of changes could you make?

Dalton: Give that back! That's for the Queen to approval, not yours!

Belthasar: It's my ship! Just because I'm working on the Mammoth Machine now, that doesn't mean you can go about making changes to my designs!

Belthasar unrolls the blueprints.

Belthasar: What the hell?

Dalton: I told you you wouldn't understand.

Belthasar: I must not understand something, because it looks as if you're going to turn it into some Mechanical Bird of Doom.

Dalton: What if I was? It's not like it does anything now other then just sit around gathering dust.

Belthasar: Doesn't do anything? It's the first completely mechanical machine to defy gravity! It's a marvel of modern Zealean ingenuity!

Gaspar: Well... He does have a point...

Belthasar: What?

Gaspar: It uh... It doesn't really do anything... You just made it so it could be made, in a way...

Belthasar: Don't take his side! He's-

Suddenly, the group stopped fighting as a large trumpting rang through the room. Everyone present, from the servants handing out food trays to the blue-bloods conversing turned to the main doors.

The Queen was slowly, gracefully walking into the room, her necklace and earrings shining brightly in the light of the candles. Her royal gown fell down to her ankles, not quite covering her high black pumps. Her hair was done up skyward practically giving her another head's worth of height. Slender, silk gloves climbed up her arms past her elbows, rings on every finger. Her necklace wasn't really a necklace, so much as it was a collar covering everything between her chin and her shoulders, made entirely of diamonds. The room went silent as she steped forward. The sound of her high-heels against the marble echoed ominously.

Zeal: Welcome, one-and-all to my merry little ball. I suppose you're all wondering why I've called you here tonight.

She looked around the room. Her eyes rested on Schala, Dalton, and the Gurus for a moment.

Zeal: Well, I must say it isn't without good reason. As you all may know, tomarrow we'll be adding a new member to the Royal Council. My precious daughter, Schala.

She gestured to the girl in the corner, and all eyes turned to her. Schala found herself blushing.

Zeal: However... She will not be alone. There will be another joining our ranks tomarrow.

There was a slight murmer amongst the crowd. Position on the royal council wasn't something given out to just anyone. Several people tried to apply almost weekly, but the Queen only took people that she particuarly respected, or those that had climbed the political ladder to a dizzying height.

Zeal: Several nights ago I had a dream... I was walking toward something bright and beautiful. I had to have it, and when it was in my hands, Zeal would evolve beyond what it ever was... But as I walked toward it through the darkness, I lost my way.

The Queen paused for a moment, replaying the dream in her mind.

Zeal: But as I wandered blindly through the woods, praying that I would find the path again, he appeared to me.

She began to get a far-off look in her eyes.

Zeal: He was a man of great height, towering over me. A cloak was draped around him, covering his face, but I could see his eyes shining through the darkness as he looked down upon me. He glided seamlessly before me and took my hand. With that, he gently guided me before the object of glory. When I awoke, he was there at my bedside.

There was a pause in the speech, as the crowd looked at their ruler, some with hope, some with suspicion, some with utter disbelief.

Zeal: He is a mighty oracle, sent here by the hands of the gods to guide our kingdom into prosperity. Behold- The Prophet.

As she spoke, another came through the doors on her right. The figure is The Prophet who's been seen here-and-there throughout Zeal. He looks rather odd standing beside the queen, as he was about a foot taller then her.

Zeal: Enough, let us welcome the good man into our midst. Eat, drink, be merry!

Zeal and the Prophet began to walk into the room. As the queen moved toward her daughter, the newcomer was almost immediately hoarded upon by the blue-bloods and bombarded with questions.

Zeal: Schala, my dear. Have you been enjoying yourself?

Schala: Well... Yes mother, but-

Zeal: Wonderfull.

Zeal reached out and casually hugged her daughter.

Zeal: He's quite nice, isn't he? I have to introduce you.

Melchoir: Uh... Milady, if I may- Last time I checked there were no council positions open.

Zeal: We can make an exception for him, believe me.

Gaspar: Are you sure he's a real prophet, Milady?

Zeal: Oh, he's real. He's been telling me stories for the past few days that have all come true. For example... Dalton, you've got something to show me, haven't you?

Dalton: W-what?

Zeal: You want me to give you my approval for the modifications for the Blackbird, right?

Dalton: He knew about... wait I...

Zeal: I should tell you now, the answer is no.

Dalton: What?

Zeal: Belthasar isn't happy with changes being made to his brainchild. The prophet tells me, that if I approved your new changes, he'd spend alot of time supervising and watching the reconstruction. Of course, that would eat into the time he spent on the Mammoth Machine.

Dalton: How did... hang on a second, that guy couldn't have known about the blueprints. I never told a soul about them until tonight!

Zeal: He's an oracle. He knows these things.

Dalton: But your highness-

Zeal: Come along Schala, you must meet this man.

The Queen takes Schala's hand and guides her over toward the Prophet, who's still being questioned by the bluebloods.

Lady Terra: So... you were blessed with the Divine Sight. Why did you choose to aid our Queen?

The Prophet: I have seen the fruits that will grow if I help her accomplish her dream. This will come not only to her benefit, and the benefit of Zeal itself. I would be included in the glory given unto our citizens.

Zeal: Prophet, come here for a moment.

The man in the cowl turns and makes his way through the Aristocrats to Queen Zeal.

Zeal: I want to introduce you to my daughter, Princess Schala Zeal.

Schala: (blush) Um... There's no need for that mother, we've met...

The Prophet: A pleasure all the same.

Zeal: You've met before? Why didn't you tell me?

Schala: I saw him in Kajar today. He saved a scientist from falling off the edge.

Zeal: Hm? Oh yes, I hear that's been happening more and more often lately.

Belthasar steps up.

Belthasar: So I have you to thank for saving Professor Higgins? (Squinting at the Prophet) Can't say you don't match his description. You have no face.

Dalton: (Suspiciously) So... You were born in Kajar?

The Prophet: No.

Gaspar: Where were you born? Enhasa, I hope. I'm an old Enhasa man myself, you know.

The Prophet: (Slightly uncomfortable) I'm not from the three cities.

Melchoir: Not from the three cities?

Gaspar: But that would mean...

Dalton suddenly flares up and points accusingly at the newcomer.

Dalton: Highness, an Earthbound one has no place in Zeal! He can't be allowed on the council.

The Prophet: I'm not from the Terra Continent either.

Melchoir chuckles.

Melchoir: Don't be silly, boy. If you're not from Zeal, and you're not an Earthbound, where do you come from?

The Prophet: Far away.

There is a minor pause as this sinks in.

Schala: You mean... from somewhere beyond Zeal?

Dalton: That's... that's not possible.

Zeal: (Calmly) It's also not possible to see something before it happens, yet our splendid guest does that as well.

Gaspar: But... but where is this place? Is it in the ocean, or is it ascended like Zeal is? Have they accumulated magical powers there?

The Prophet: They have magic there. Different magic, but magic all the same... But their land remains bound within the sea.

Schala: (intrigued) This place beyond Zeal... what's it like?

The Prophet began to consider the question. What was the first thing that came to his mind when he thought of the Mystic's World?

Of course- the unsanitary nature that surrounded every part of life in that place. Only the privileged Mystics like Ozzie bathed, and did so in wooden tubs filled with cold, only semi-clean water from a nearby river. All others may wash minorly if they felt the need, but were often covered in bits of dirt and mud. Even after a battle, Mystics may do nothing more then stick their hands in a brook and maybe splash some water on their faces. Easily, the best pirk of being their Savior was that he could remain hygenic between battles.

The Prophet: Bedraggled, yet strangely sociable.

Dalton: Bedraggled? You mean dirty? Dirty like how?

Zeal: Enough. We don't want to overload our new guest on his first night out in public, do we? Let's enjoy ourselves. Come here, for a moment Schala, I'd like to speak with you...

As the queen and princess steer away, The Prophet approaches the Guru in Red.

The Prophet: You're Gaspar, correct? The Guru of Time?

Gaspar: Yes?

The Prophet: I've been reading your books since I arrived here in Zeal. I love your work.

Gaspar: Really? I can't imagine a Prophet being interested in how to translate Ancient Zeal text...

The Prophet: I meant your other works. I've been particuarly interested in "The Timestream and Its Banks".

Gaspar: You... You actually read that?

The Prophet: Yes, and I wanted to ask you about the creation of "Time Boats" as you called them.

Gaspar: Hmm... I think I went a little overboard with the River metaphors... Still, you actually read my book?

The Prophet: Didn't I just tell you that?

Gaspar: Yes, but... Out of all the books I wrote nobody seemed interested in that one... or able to understand it... Come sit with me...

The Guru puts his arm around the Prophet and leads him toward some chairs. Meanwhile, Queen Zeal and Schala are slightly away from the festivities, talking to each other.

Zeal: So, Schala... Nervous about tomarrow?

Schala: A little...

Zeal: Well, I wanted to tell you not to worry. Running the country is much easier then those administration courses made it seem. Try to follow my lead, and you'll do fine.

Schala: Thanks, mom...

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

He rolled over again. This time facing the wall. Nervous, he brought his knees under his chin and began to bite his pillow.

That thing... he couldn't stop thinking about it. It looked wounded, but it didn't seem to want help. At the same time, it was screaming for it... Wouldn't it be dangerous to have it inside the castle? It could do anything. Alot of that blood didn't belong to him... Would it kill people? He considered again getting up to tell someone about it, but he doubted they'd believe him.

For the past few weeks, he'd noticed, people seemed to be paying less heed to him. They'd always been somewhat cold... The Prince never had any friends his own age. He'd often watch them play from the windows of his room. They would run into each other, yell at each other, and throw squishy substances at each other. They really looked like utter idiots... But a large part of Janus wanted to be an idiot too. Even though they acted like fools, they seemed to be having so much fun. When he saw them enjoying themselves so much, he couldn't help but think "Why can't I be like that?" When he asked Schala, she said that it was part of being royalty.

Even if he hand no friends, the servants of the palace still did what he asked. Even if there was this layer of coldness to him. Granted, they would listen to his sister or the Gurus before him, but he was listened to...

But in the course of two weeks, things seemed to be shifting. The servants seemed to be avoiding him, passing him to each other as if he was a chore, or an embarrassment. They would often make up excuses to not do as he asked, and to get away from him. The boy was constantly finding himself alone and wondering, "What's happening to me? Aren't I still the prince?"

So who would believe him if he said anything about that monster? Gaspar or Schala might, but they were at the party. And he doubted he would get in there through the guards. The fact that he was absolutely petrified of seeing that thing again didn't really help.

He knew that the experience wasn't a dream, but even so, he recorded it in the journal Gaspar gave him. After all of the nightmares he'd had, Gaspar eventually gave him a blank book to write about his dreams. He had been filling it up pretty quickly, taking down every frightening detail about the things he'd seen in his sleep. He even illustrated many of them as best he could. He questioned why he had so many nightmares, and Gaspar said that it was common for intelligent chlidren.

Part of Janus wondered if the idiot kids he watched from his window ever had nightmares.

Alfador was waving her tail in her sleep. He could feel it stroking his back. It made him feel much better, that small stroking of his spine. It made him feel like everything was alright, because she was beside him. The weight of her on the matress constantly reminded him that she was there, and that he didn't have to be afraid of anything.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Back at the party, Schala had moved back into the main crowd. As she watched many of the bluebloods try to converse with the tight-lipped Prophet, she considered finally going to bed. She needed to rest up for tomarrow. That's when she saw Dalton walking up to her.

Dalton: Princess, I almost forgot to ask you something.

Schala: Oh, okay...

Dalton: I was talking to my security force yesterday, they said you were asking if anybody was around your room about four days ago?

Schala: Uh... yes... I just thought somebody was around that night. It's nothing really.

Dalton: Why'd you think that? Did you hear somebody?

Schala: Well... You see... I woke up in the middle of the night. I was confused, since I couldn't imagine what woke me up. I tried to fall asleep again, but then I just...

Dalton: What? What happened?

Schala: I felt like there was somebody else in the room. I started to feel scared, so I got up and looked behind me... but there was a sort of "whoosh" sound and then there was nobody there...

Dalton: That's it?

Schala: My window was open.

Dalton sighed, looking annoyed.

Dalton: Your window is on the second floor of the palace. Listen Princess, don't go bothering my men about little imaginary peeping toms, okay? They've got more important things to do.

Cross, Dalton walks off, bumping into Melchoir.

Dalton: Watch it!

Melchoir moves toward Schala.

Schala: He's in a bad mood.

Melchoir: Yes... He must not be happy with the Prophet's decision about the Blackbird.

Schala: I just hope he doesn't get drunk again.

Melchoir watches Dalton angrily storm past a well-dressed woman in with a Mink Shawl.

Melchoir: I think he's had quite a bit already... Anyway, how's your brother doing?

Schala: He's still having nightmares...

Melchoir: Eh. All smart children have nightmares. That's what my dad used to say. That boy's pretty clever. I saw him reading The Tomb of Arkon the other day.

Schala: Yeah... he told me he liked how the book spoke of growth from hopelessness.

Melchoir: I didn't read that book until my first year of college.

At a nearby table, The Prophet and Gaspar are still conversing.

Gaspar: And then the two points of time are forced to meet and an opening is torn between them.

The Prophet: I understand that, the question is, how would one generate a Spatial Abnormality strong enough to have that effect?

Gaspar leaned back and stroked his chin in thought.

Gaspar: Good question... It might work with an obsene discharge of magical energy, but I don't think there's that much power in the world...

The Prophet: Maybe...

Gaspar: Um... why do you need me to tell you this? Can't you see it, being a Prophet and all?

The Prophet: Foresight is limited to large events and things I'll play a hand in. I can't just see anything that strikes my interest.

Gaspar: Oh... So you wouldn't know... Um...

The Prophet turns to look at Gaspar.

Gaspar: I had a son once... Do you-

Zeal: That's enough now.

The Queen was standing before the main doors again, adressing the room.

Zeal: I believe that we've had enough fun tonight. My daughter and our guest have their first meeting tomarrow. It's about time we all turned in, wouldn't you say? Guards, show our guest to his room.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Schala walked slowly down the hall. Her feet were killing her. She needed to lie down and get some sleep for tomarrow.

As she passed Janus's room, he stopped. Carefully, she opened the door a crack a peeked inside. Her brother was turned toward the wall, his back to her. He didn't seem to be turning, or sweating. Just sleeping peacefully. That was a pleasant change from his usual sleeping pattern. Maybe this meant that his nightmares were passing. Softly as possible she shut the door and went off to her own room.

Once inside, she put her hair down and began to undress. Janus's nightmares seemed to be getting worse lately. He usually only came to her if it was particuarly bad, otherwise he would take comfort in Alfador. But now he would wake her up in the middle of the night, describing horrid beasts and visions from his own mind. His dreams would often have their mother in them, but some deformed, ghastly version. He illustrated these forms in his journal. When she told Gaspar about it, he said that he would like to see the journal once he'd finished it.

Pulling her nightgown over her head, she began to ponder Melchoir's remark about smart children. Janus was very intelligent, and judging by his dreams, very imaginative. He would often borrow Schala's books and finish them before she did. She was sure that he'd make a very fine king. Even if he never gained great magical prowess, he'd be a wonderful administrator.

She crawled into bed and pulled the soft, cotton covers up to her chin.

Yes, things looked very good for her brother, indeed.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It was so easy. Almost too good to be true.

He found himself grinning as he brought the hood of his cloak down to comb his hair. The night had gone better then he had honestly expected. The aristocrats "ooh"ed and "aww"ed at his entrance on cue, all wondering where he came from and what his purpose was. None of them knew it was him. None of them had the slightest clue.

It wasn't likely anybody could find out, anyway. The possibility of a boy being thrown in time, growing up, and then thrown back to a point prior to when he was thrown in the first place wasn't the first thing that crossed one's mind when being introduced. Still, there were enough religious nuts in Zeal to believe him to be another incarnation of the Prince. It was best for him to keep his hood up, just to be on the safe side. He couldn't afford to take risks now.

In addition to the problem with his identity, he also had to be brought into high society quickly. If he was going to be in the Ocean Palace by the time Lavos appeared, he couldn't afford to climb the ladder. He would have to be assured instantanious acceptance from the bluebloods. It was a good thing they were so in awe of him, all sending wave upon wave of questions at him. It made things easier for him. Not that their opinion really mattered in the long term.

After all, he had the Queen. It was obviously the fastest way of getting into the Inner Council. Place the Queen under his inlufence, and use her to hasten Lavos's arrival. Once he'd realised where he was, and he had properly recovered from the encounter with the amphibian, he went upwards to the Kingdom. With hardly any effort, he slipped past the faceless guards and into the Queen's inner chambers. Controlling her dreams, he placed a charm upon her. While not exactly controlling her, he did place her under his influence to the point where it hardly mattered. She'd go along with whatever he said now, no matter how unusual.

Getting up he hung his cloak over a chair and laid down in bed. He had requested a curtained bedchamber, similar to the one he had in his Mystic lodgings. It would work to hide his face should anyone walk in to see him.

He had to admit, there were moments were he was nervous. When he was introduced to Schala and the Gurus, he couldn't get his mind off what might happen if they found out his identity. Not as nervous, he had to admit, as when he met Schala by the river earlier that day. He simply wasn't prepared for his sister to be right there talking to him. But he had managed to get through the proceedings of the evening without major mishap, right under her nose.

This wasn't the first time he'd seen her, though...

It was a huge risk. He hadn't formed the idea of posing as the Prophet yet, and wasn't even wearing the hood of his cloak. If he was caught by the castle guards, he could easily escape, but never get into the council. But he had to do it. The instant he came down into the Earthbound village and realized where he was, he knew that he would need to do it.

He unlocked the window of her room and stepped inside. It was illegal, yes. Even if she was a normal girl, it would qualify as stalking. But to look upon her sleeping form was something he'd been lusting after for ten years. She looked so perfect. She was so pure lying there in her nightgown like that. He considered peeking into her dreams, but decided against it. She was much smaller then he remembered. He should've expected that, but she was so short. She was tiny. Fragile.

Once Lavos was dead, he could look at her all day and night. She'd be his sweet little sister, and he would watch over her.

He knew it was foolish to be so assured of his victory, but he couldn't help but look longingly toward his life after he killed the beast. The life he had planned out for himself...

Heh. Not too bad, eh? I think it works quite well. The fic will continue to recount the history of Zeal up until the awakening of Lavos and the country's destruction. If you have any thoughts, positive or negetive, please, tell me in a reveiw. I'd love to hear from you...