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“Stay here? Alone?”
Marle’s voice echoed loudly through the quiet, her worry prominent — and understandably so. Since embarking on this unexpected journey, they’ve been mostly together… But now because of understandable — albeit abrupt — restrictions, they needed to separate?
Crono bit his lip, heart thudding in a way that, before Robo joined, reminded him of one the first times they weren’t all together and how wrong it all was. Granted, it was a completely different scenario, exacerbated by the unfamiliarities of time travel, but still…
This place… unsettled him, much more than he’d like to admit. He supposed it was justified given they were at the End of Time, but he wouldn’t want any of them to be left behind here. And it was clear no one wanted to stay, judging by the way Marle kept anxiously wringing her fingers and how Lucca’s brow started knitting together. Robo released a short, low whir, undoubtedly upset at the idea of separation after just being reacquainted with people again. Technically, the Old Man would keep whoever stayed company… but when Crono looked past him, the thick, murky darkness didn’t help quell his concerns.
Hazy shapes reminiscent of wispy clouds surrounded the small courtyard, continuously distorting and reforming, and he swore that only after a few seconds of looking, he could feel himself drifting — sinking. But he soon pried his eyes away when one cloudy shape in particular looked too much like a face, distorting and distorting in a way most disturbing. A prickle of fear shot through his chest, the feeling prompting the question of whether or not he would’ve remained transfixed if he hadn’t looked away. Perhaps… there was an inkling of truth there, for far stranger events have already occurred… but he didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances in proving the thought wrong — because then where would that leave him?
He shifted his focus toward the light flooding from the lamp post, immensely grateful that a light source of any kind was present to illuminate the void.
“It is a bleak place, isn’t it,” the Old Man hummed, agreeing. “But not to worry. For all its desolation, it is well connected. There are roads here to any time you could ever wish to visit,” he explained. “Should you so desire, you can call upon your friends at any time. But you can never travel in groups greater than three…”
The heavy silence magnified.
“So, one of us must stay,” Robo said, breaking the quiet. A displeased sound left Marle’s throat while Lucca sighed, resigned. She turned to him, the crinkle in her brow smoothing out.
“Who’ll it be, Crono?” Lucca asked, direct and to the point, but Crono could still hear her own brand of worry leaking through no matter how much she tried to appear nonchalant.
And why was it always him making these difficult choices? It wasn’t like they had a fixed leader, yet it usually ended up falling on his shoulders regardless. But it wasn’t like anyone was volunteering either — and who would?
But, after quite a while, he made a decision, even though it didn’t feel like a good one — no choice would’ve been. There were no hard feelings, yet guilt still warmed his chest.
The Old Man proceeded to tell them about how they could leave, gesturing to the pillars of light off to the side, and warned them of another Gate only accessible via the insides of the ordinary looking bucket behind him, much to Crono’s and everyone else’s confusion. But the Old Man’s tune changed upon mentioning the door also located behind him, recommending they take a look through it for themselves.
Still hesitant to wander anywhere further than where they stood, they soon complied, staying a healthy distance away from the bucket.
Stepping through the door, they were gifted magic by a creature named Spekkio after following his instructions. The following minutes were spent testing out their newfound abilities, and Crono was happy to admit that doing so ebbed away some of the discomfort he kept feeling. In all honesty, it was hard to focus on anything else when magic glittered everywhere and his veins thrummed with lightning.
But all the discomfort returned when, after the first spar, a question was asked whether they could stay a while longer before departing. Surprisingly, it was Marle who asked, a majority of her nerves having settled as excitement took over, stating she wanted to continue practicing her magic. Lucca also seemed interested in doing the same, the gears in her head turning on what attacks she could come up with while Robo inquired what their magic felt like. Not wanting to be the outlier, Crono agreed to it, but decided to sit out the next round. And after insisting he was okay, he wished his friends a good time and left, sighing once the door shut.
It dawned on him that he couldn’t remember when last they spared time to genuinely breathe. The events leading up to now had been nonstop and filled with too many details his brain couldn’t clearly recall right away. Putting that into consideration, as uncomfortable as he felt, maybe staying was a good thing then… Regardless, he allowed a small smile to grace his lips when the sound of his friends’ amazement brought life to an otherwise very dull space.
The Old Man’s head perked up when he got closer to the courtyard, snapping him out of a doze.
“Well, well… It seems I was right. People who lived long ago all enjoyed such powers, you know,” the Old Man said, grinning. “Yes, long, long ago…”
Maybe it was just his eyes playing tricks on him, but the Old Man’s cheerful expression seemed to dip into something more… disappointed?
Sad?
Well… whatever he might’ve seen, it was gone, like it hadn’t been there at all.
“Use them wisely now, you understand?”
Crono nodded firmly. It really was incredible what they were capable of doing now, and with what they’ve been facing, and… will face, he’s certain they’ll need all the power they could get. He could still feel the residual static skittering underneath his skin and the hair on his neck standing up — definitely something to get used to. But there wasn’t a thought in his mind that wanted to misuse powers like these anyway. Wielding lightning was dangerous enough.
But… he frowned, thoughts pestered by the way the Old Man was speaking. Aside from the hints of what he thought he saw on his face, there was something else there… like a familiarity of some kind. It didn’t feel like the kind of familiarity that went in passing — like, if Lucca were to briefly talk about an engineering concept she recognized, or if Marle were to rant about her gripes with royalty. If either went into detail, Crono could pick up on how personal the topic was to them and the history their words carried. But in so few words, the way the Old Man was speaking strangely reminded him of this scenario…
Was he reading too much into this? Probably. For all he knew, the man, just like Spekkio, probably knew a lot about magic and whatever dense history it came with, and was upset about how people of the past misused their powers — hence his reminder. This made sense, but Crono, for some reason, didn’t feel satisfied with the conclusion, because it really almost felt as though the Old Man was, at least for a moment, wistful — like he was reflecting on what he missed, or something similar, making it feel a lot more personal.
Why was that?
Brow furrowing, could it… possibly be that he came from a time where magic still existed? That could make sense as well, for Crono was sure that the Old Man wasn’t born here… but that also would’ve been a long time ago—
A heavy, sickening feeling suddenly hit the bottom of his stomach, inducing a cold wave of nausea because…
…Because how much time has the Old Man spent here?
He seemed to be well acquainted with the End of Time too — well enough to know even a portion of its ins and outs, which Crono was certain couldn’t have been easy, nor been a quick process. But if he’d already been old upon arriving, wouldn’t that imply that he was now extremely old? He could somewhat understand Spekkio being that old, but the man, at least, was human… so wouldn’t that mean he should… already be…
He shook his head, a sharp chill trickling up his spine.
Maybe it was best not to think about that…
But did time flow at all? Being at the end of it, it wouldn’t be completely out of the ordinary to think that it didn’t. Then was the Old Man just permanently old — age preserved like a fossil?
Regardless, the glaring point still stood that the Old Man had to have been here for a long time. Upon their arrival, he hadn’t even seemed as surprised as he could’ve been, going on to mention how frequent people had been arriving at the End of Time recently. And just who exactly were these other people? What were their circumstances? Were they trying to stop Lavos too, or did they have their own version of a world ending monster to prepare for—
Crono shook his head again.
He was getting carried away…
However, by saying recently, wouldn’t that indicate there existed a time where people weren’t arriving as often?
Had the Old Man been a witness to this as well…?
Head beginning to hurt, he pocketed the thoughts for later and stared at the source of his questions, who’d drifted back into another doze. The sight stirred loose an odd ache in his chest.
Is… this all he did when nothing interesting was happening? There really wasn’t much else to consider doing, but Crono couldn’t fathom the amount and length of time these periods void of interaction occurred and lasted, excluding anything involving Spekkio and recently. And when awake, how did the Old Man not lose his mind knowing there was a sea of nothing for infinite miles? Peering up had Crono looking away faster than before, electing to stare at his shoes. Not only was it eerily quiet, save for the occasional explosion coming from the other side, but it…
The ache deepened as did his frown.
…It felt—
“Disconcerting, isn’t it?” the Old Man suddenly said. Startled, Crono lifted his head and looked at him, catching the way the man’s mouth quirked up slightly into a half smile. “The darkness, I mean. It took a while to adjust myself, but once you’ve been here for as long as I have, you learn not to be so bothered by it. However, I wouldn’t advise anyone to try… It was a most miserable, and quite maddening, activity.”
It definitely sounded like it, Crono mused, fighting back a grimace. But… but why did the man try in the first place?
“I do apologize I couldn’t make it a bit brighter,” the Old Man continued, adjusting the grip on his cane. “Can only do so much with so little.”
Crono shaked his hands, appreciating that effort had been put in at all.
“But you seem confused about something else,” the Old Man said. “Was it anything I discussed earlier?”
Sensing an opportunity, Crono exhaled softly through his nose and nodded, pointing at him.
“About myself?”
He nodded again, but slowly, unsure. Would it be insensitive to ask him about it so directly? The End of Time already felt like a sensitive topic…
“I’m sure you’re not alluding to my entire history, so it must be something more condensed?”
Hesitating, and uncertain how to ask properly, Crono pointed at the Old Man again, then gestured vaguely at their surroundings, hoping his questions were conveyed clearly enough. Processing, the Old Man hummed after a short moment.
“Are you wondering about my time here?” the Old man asked. “About why I’m here?”
A sudden burst of curiosity got the better of him, Crono nodding quickly to both questions.
“Then, I’m afraid there’s not much I can explain. I simply ended up here and stayed.”
…He should be grateful that he actually received an answer, but… one didn’t wander to the End of Time and want to stay. Who in their right mind would want to? He felt guilty enough leaving one of his friends here — and that was because there was no other choice. But to have a choice and reside here willingly? Crono couldn’t imagine it, but he guessed it really wasn’t hard to… the proof shaped like the Old Man in front of him.
“I see this answer doesn’t satisfy you.”
Looking away, embarrassed, Crono heard the Old Man chuckle.
“Unfortunately, that’s really all I can tell you. The finer details might as well be lost on the very streams of time you now travel on. The memory of an old man can only remain intact for so long. But…” Crono looked back up, “I’ve reconciled with the outcome such a decision has brought me.”
Have you, Crono immediately thought, the pinch in his brow returning as his chest twinged. Are you really that fine with it?
They were informed of a way they could leave, so why couldn’t the Old Man take the opportunity himself?
Didn’t he yearn for home?
Didn’t he have anyone that missed him?
Didn’t he desire to escape this dreary place?
Didn’t—
Crono’s eyes widened.
Or…
…Or was he unable to?
The sparring session across from them ended, the quiet returning all too fast, leaving his brain disoriented with the weighted question.
Did he… not have anywhere to return to?
Crono tried his best to banish the thoughts as soon as it came, partially because no, that didn’t make sense — he had to have come from and existed in some other time — and because it scared him to think that this had the potential of being a possibility.
“I understand leaving is not a door closed for me, and perhaps I could venture through the same one that’s accessible to you. If for whatever reason that fails when I do try, then I suppose I’ll have to resort to methods unknown to me. But, I believe that,” the Old Man’s voice dwindled to something softer, “it’s not time for me to explore these options yet.”
Yet…?
Then when would it be?
Hasn’t he been here for far too long already?
And wasn’t he—
The word to the unidentified feeling he’d felt from earlier finally registered itself, cementing into his heart, pulsing alongside his concerns, questions, and confusion — amplified by the swirling darkness around them that only seemed to creep in closer.
Wasn’t he… lonely?
The feeling violently gripped and twisted at his heart, an empty sensation situating itself in his stomach.
Been lonely?
His eyes flitted to the ground.
For a long… long time?
…How did he manage it, especially when the choice to stay, in a place that could very well be considered the epitome of loneliness, was deliberate? How did he not crumble under that weight? Because that wasn’t normally a choice anyone would have to make — be willing to make. It shouldn’t have to be a choice at all.
No one should even be here.
So, how did—
“Your concern is much appreciated, but you need not worry about me,” the Old Man said, pulling Crono back. “Whenever that time comes, then I will take my leave. But for now, I will remain at the End of Time, fulfilling whatever purpose I’m meant to see through to its end.”
If this was intended to provide some form of comfort, then Crono didn’t think it hit its mark. What exactly was this purpose? Was he close to completing it? Was he only at the beginning…?
“It’s not to say that I don’t feel lonely, yet, for all its desolation, this loneliness doesn’t feel unbearable somehow. Maybe it’s offset by this purpose, acting like that of a beacon — one much stronger than the one I’ve fixed. Maybe it provides me with the strength required to endure such a feeling, knowing that my efforts have yet to be wasted.”
Crono glanced at the lamp post, then back to the Old Man. The enigma in front of him chuckled softly.
“So you need not worry about me, Crono. I will be alright,” he reiterated, smiling genuinely. “Nothing happens before the time.”
It was then that his friends re-entered the courtyard, chatting away about what they’ve learned through their spar with Spekkio. They bombarded Crono with information while his own conversation with the Old Man continued to churn. He pushed it aside as best as he could and tried to pay attention to whatever ideas they’ve come up with. A lot of them were… interesting, to say the least, but he’s sure with more experience they could work things out.
“Well, I know you must be eager to finish this thing you seem so intent on doing, but why not pay a visit to your own era? Haste makes waste, as they say. And you’ll find that even truer here,” the Old Man suggested. “And while I’m pleased to have another soul to talk to, I, most importantly, will ensure that your friend is kept safe in the meantime.”
Inevitably, the livened atmosphere withered a bit, and Crono felt the guilt surge back, but he promised himself that no one, during any given time, would have to stay here for too long. But for now, he would rather continue to believe in his friends’ own perseverance. He just hoped that would be enough.
The Old Man stared at each of them, his gaze resting on Crono for a moment longer.
“Come and see me whenever you have the need. Think of me as your guide on time’s road,” he said to everyone, offering a gentle smile and a nod. They all reluctantly said their goodbyes and headed for the light pillars, but Crono stopped and turned around, slowly raising his hand to wave a second time. He could just barely see the Old Man, the distance making him appear a bit ominous and more lonely underneath the lamp post, bob his head and wave back. With a breathy sigh, Crono finally kept walking and caught up with everyone else. Their eyes held a question, but Crono shook his head, and nodded he was ready to go.
The pillar twinkled, launching them through time as they hurtled toward the present and drifted further and further away from the end. All the while, Crono’s thoughts wandered back to what the Old Man said at the end of their conversation, the five words ringing in his head…
But now those words left him simply hoping that the Old Man’s resilience in this seemingly lonely endeavor would never waver, and, if it ever did, then that he would be able to recover that same strength required of him to continue.
…And Crono hoped that in their own less lonely, but more dangerous, endeavors, they would be able to do the same.