Title: A Soldier’s Day.
Author: Shaded Mazoku.
Email: herukatto@hotmail.com.
Part: 1/1.
Disclaimer: Chrono Trigger and all its characters belong to
Square Enix, or whatever they call themselves these days.
Warnings: Violence.
Rating: R.
Summary: A soldier’s day on the fields during the Mystic war.
Pairing(s): None.
Fandom: Chrono Trigger.
*
Today, we thought we had won. We finally broke through the Mystics’ defenses, though not without losses, and our commander stood face to face with General Slash. Slash is a tall, scary Mystic, with his blue skin and cruel eyes, but the commander didn’t hesitate to engage him in combat. Though the rest of us were fighting as well, we took as much time as we could to watch their glorious battle. General Slash is an evil, despicable villain, but he’s a master swordsman, and I cannot help but admire his form. He fights as though his sword, the infamous Slasher, is a part of his body, rather than a weapon, and he moves like a viper.
Even so, the commander managed to wound him grievously, and for a moment, the battle seemed to be over. General Slash was mortally wounded, and discord spread among the Mystic troops as they scattered, their morale disappearing with their general’s blood. We were just about to cheer, when a woman appeared on the battlefield. Never have I seen a woman like her, and I pray to the gods that I never do again. She was a woman of stunning beauty, but she radiated evil. Her beautiful face held an expression of annoyance and disdain, as though she thought the battle was beneath her. Despite the wrongness she seemed to surround herself with, I felt myself wanting to please her and to gain her favor, and I realized who she was. All the soldiers in the army have been warned about the treacherous beauty of Flea the Magician.
She strode though the masses as if they weren’t there and kneeled by General Slash’s side. In front of our terrified eyes, she healed the wounded officer, calling him back from the brink of death. In less than five minutes, she undid all of the commander’s hard work, leaving General Slash without a scratch. Flea rose once she was done, and looked around, the expression on her face one of disgust. With a small flicker of her hand, destruction rained from the sky, in the form of great fireballs. Our troops didn’t stand a chance against her magic, and where effortlessly massacred. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, accompanied by the agonized screams of those caught in the range of her spell. Flea started laughing as she surveyed the havoc she created, obviously feeling no regret or compassion for those she destroyed.
I was lucky enough to be out of range of her spells, but I was not out of range of her gaze, and as she looked in direction of my division, our eyes met. The memory of her eyes will haunt me forever. Survivors of her attacks tell tales of how Flea can make entire troops slaughter their friends, or themselves, in hope of gaining her favors, and as I looked into her dark pink eyes, I knew this was the truth. In those eyes, I could see raw chaos and power, mixed with something I can only describe as an insane bloodlust, and I felt a fear unlike anything I have ever felt before settle inside of me. Flea is to us humans what flames are to moths: seductive, beautiful and extremely lethal.
Today, I saw half my troop die at the hands of a Mystic who is the embodiment of all our fears and desires at the same time, and I realized that we’re doomed if nothing happens to turn the tables in our favor.