Sage Frontier Fan Fiction ❯ A Tale of two Fakes! ❯ Time Lord's Spectacularly Skeptical Statements ( Chapter 33 )

DISCLAIMER: I don't own SaGa Frontier. SquareSoft does, and they don't like that I now own the SGF II OST. I also do not, and never will, own George Washington.

 

Within seconds of stepping into the portal, Blue and Rouge found themselves standing in the center of Virgil's large room, their vision blurry from being in space for those few second. It took a while just for the room to stop spinning, and as it did, Blue became aware that someone was speaking to him. But he couldn't recognize the voice just yet. He blinked dully, and then felt someone shaking him. He shook his head, trying both to clear it and to tell the other person to leave him alone. Neither worked. At least, not as well as he wanted. The person backed up, but now he heard the voice more clearly. It was his boss, and he sounded worried.

 

“You okay, soldier?” Fuse asked him, his voice sounding oddly detached, even though he was right in front of Blue. His face swam into Blue's vision.

 

“Where am I?” Blue asked sluggishly, the room slowly stopping its turn. Rouge glanced at Fuse with concern as the Mystics behind them appeared from the portal. Fuse nodded, and Rouge turned to his brother.

 

“We're in Virgil's palace. His magic's way too strong sometimes. It knocked the shit out of me, too,” Rouge told him calmly, and put a hand on his shoulder, “Try not to think too much, bro. Just focus on standing up.” Blue nodded, and took a deep breath. He had learned that relaxation was the quickest way to clear his mind. And it was helping. The room stopped even further, and he could finally make out shapes and faces. He looked up at Rouge, and nodded. Rouge patted his back and asked, “Feeling better?”

 

“Yes,” came the strained reply, and then, “Is the Sand Vessel safe?” Zozma just grinned as he took out the small jar that looked seemingly empty. It glittered in the firelight behind Virgil.

 

“It's safe and we're totally ready to rumble,” Zozma told him, and turned to Virgil, “We're ready. Fire away, Captain Crunch!” Virgil just blinked, not getting the reference. Then, he looked over to Orlouge, and for the first time, he noticed the terrible disguise the Mystic was in. In proper lighting, Blue finally saw why Ildon had gone ballistic. Orlouge looked absolutely filthy! He wasn't so sure Zozma didn't use actual dirt on the man. And he saw the holes dotting the arms of the old coat, as well as the rainbow-colored stockings. Inwardly, he twitched as well. Virgil's eyes widened for just a moment, unable to decide which expression suited him more: shock, disgust, or bewilderment. All three seemed appropriate to him.

 

“…Orlouge, my dear friend, why are you dressed like that!?” Virgil demanded in terror. Orlouge just closed his eyes, biting his lip as Zozma snickered. Then, the older Mystic pointed to Zozma and let out a sigh.

 

“We decided that, in order not to arouse unwanted attention, I would go in a disguise around Rootville,” Orlouge stated tiredly, “Zozma assured me this was the best choice.” Virgil turned to Zozma with a flat expression on his face. Somehow, it looked comical; Virgil had always given a sense of complete understanding. He must've dealt with Zozma's antics at some point. Right then, he looked annoyed.

 

“I am not surprised,” Virgil stated stiffly, and then his expression calmed, “But regardless, you've acquired the Sand Vessel. Therefore, the Time Lord's realm can be saved.”

 

“But only if you can get us there,” Rouge reminded him carefully, “You can do that, right?” Blue glanced warningly at Rouge, but Virgil just gave him a kind smile, and nodded. Out of the corner of his eyes, the old Mystic saw Orlouge taking off the baseball cap and hair net Zozma had put on him. He silently approved. He hated the disguise Zozma had picked out.

 

“My dear boy, I can do nearly anything. I am, aside from the Time Lord himself, the oldest Mystic in existence. Rest assured, I can send you anywhere with relative ease,” Virgil replied calmly. Rouge blinked profusely. Virgil was nearly as old as the Time Lord, but their sanity levels couldn't have been further apart. Virgil was still as sane as ever, but the Time Lord clearly had dementia of some form. Rouge couldn't believe it, except that Mystics didn't tend to lie. After a moment of silence, Virgil said, “It may be best to begin.” The Time Lord nodded, brows creased.

 

“It'd have been best to begin when I asked you to help me the first time, you old fool,” he grumbled. Virgil just sighed. He didn't want to remind the Time Lord that he asked to go to Disney World, not Fascinaturu. Not that the Time Lord would listen; he hadn't listened the first time, either. Fuse positioned everyone in a circle before Virgil's throne, and Ildon handed Virgil something that Blue couldn't see just then. Virgil nodded and smiled, clapping his hands together. The fire behind him went out, and Orlouge hurried over into the circle. Virgil closed his eyes and began chanting, but this time, it was in a language no one recognized. Rouge listened carefully, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember any of the syllables. And yet, Virgil continued on, going faster and faster with each passing second.

 

“What is he saying?” Rouge whispered to Blue, who had tried as well to understand what Virgil was saying. Like his twin, he also failed. His lips thinned, and he shook his head.

 

“No idea, but it's not Mystic tongue,” he replied just as quietly, “But it's powerful. I can feel the energy pouring off of him from the spell.” Rouge just nodded, and behind them, Ciato snorted. Rouge glanced back, confusion written on his face.

 

“It's a slightly different form of magic. Quite old, but different from ours,” Ciato explained, “Some Mystics are beginning to use it now because it doesn't require the life energy from the caster. Personally, though, I like the old ways better.” Rouge just shrugged. To him, it didn't make much difference as long as it helped them. Finally, Virgil slowed, and then a portal opened up beneath them all. Rouge's eyes widened, and though he was terrified now, he forced himself to look down. Instead of seeing a marble floor, he saw a huge pocket of outer space, right under his feet. He twitched inwardly, and then just screamed as they all began to fall in. He looked over, but couldn't see Blue anywhere. But he heard his voice, coming from nowhere and everywhere, all at the same time.

 

“Rouge, calm down. We're fine,” his voice said distantly, “Just relax, okay?” Rouge forced himself to breathe deeply. This never happened when he'd done traveling without a ship. But as he breathed deeply, slowly, he felt his heart slow, and he realized nothing bad was truly happening. He was simply falling very slowly. He smiled. This seemed peaceful enough. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and his body stiffened.

 

“Blue?” he called, “Is that you, bro?” But somehow, he had the feeling it wasn't. Blue was to the left of him, not the right.

 

“No, it's me,” came Ciato's voice, “You're terrified. It's okay, Rouge. We'll be landing soon.” Somehow, his voice calmed Rouge down further. When he wasn't stalking or being a total ass, Rouge realized Ciato was actually rather kind. And, true to the Mystic's words, slowly the new world came into focus. Black turned to a swirling blue, and stone arches came into existence. The air felt cold and thin, and pedestals stood in raised platforms all around them, their objects protected within a glowing circle. Everything felt still and detached, just like it had when Blue visited the first time. He looked around the familiar scenery.

 

“Just as it was before,” he commented, his voice echoing strangely in the stillness, “Everything is frozen again.” Rouge nodded in silent agreement as the Time Lord walked forward, looking around at his possessions, most of which were ancient artifacts that had been lost to the confines of time. Blue wished he could've stayed longer than he had to study them, but now wasn't the time to ask. He looked to the Time Lord and asked, “How did your clock break, sir?”

 

“My clock?” Time Lord echoed, turning back to him, “Oh! My clock! It cracked… let's see… you know, I'm not even sure.” Rouge raised an incredulous brow.

 

“You don't know how your own clock broke?” he replied, and the Time Lord nodded.

 

“That's what I said, boy. I came out of my room one day, and it was just cracked. Heavens knows why, of course,” the Time Lord told him, “…hey! Maybe you can figure it out! Police cops solve mysteries, right?” Rouge pursed his lips, blinked quickly. This was going in a direction he wanted to avoid, and desperately, he turned to Fuse for help. Fuse hummed, and to Rouge's dismay, he nodded. He took out a notebook and a pen, and jotted down the fact that the Time Lord didn't know why his clock was broken. Then he looked at the Mystic in question.

 

“We'll take the case,” he said firmly, “Now, we're going to have to ask you some stuff, so try to remember the answers, okay?” The Time Lord nodded, and Fuse then asked, “Do you have any enemies? Anyone who might want you dead?” This time, the Time Lord's eyes narrowed flatly. He must not have taken the question seriously.

 

“I'm one million years old. Any enemies I do have are dead by now,” the Mystic stated bluntly, “And I can't think of anyone who'd want to kill me!” Rouge heard Ciato grumble a disagreement, and he tried to hide a snort of amusement. Obviously, the Time Lord didn't pay attention very well to other people's reactions to him. Fuse blinked, and then wrote that down. Blue noted the somewhat disbelieving expression on the older cop's face, and then Fuse resumed his inquiry.

 

“Now, have you seen anything suspicious here? Any people you don't remember letting in?” Fuse asked this time. The Time Lord looked up at the ceiling, tapping his chin as he tried to think of the answer. Time had gone on for so long, he had a hard time remembering who and what he let in, and when that ever was. Then he took a look around the room and shrugged.

 

“If I did, they're frozen by now,” he answered simply. Fuse sighed in frustration and wrote that answer down as well. Maybe taking this case was a bad decision.

 

“Right,” Fuse commented lowly, and continued, “What were you doing the night you discovered your clock was broken?” Rouge glanced at Blue, trying to hold in his laughter. He had a feeling that, whatever the answer, Fuse wouldn't like it. The Time Lord tapped his chin again, and smiled.

 

“Why, I was asleep,” he replied, “See, I discovered the clock in the morning, so on the night of discovery, I was asleep. It's simple logic, really.” Blue personally thought Fuse's head would explode. But the cop was good at keeping his cool… sometimes. He rephrased the question, his teeth gritting in annoyance.

 

“…what were you doing just before you found the clock, wiseass?” Fuse asked again, and now his irritation was apparent. Rouge kept snorting, even as Blue nudged him to quiet him down.

 

“Just before? Why, I was having tea and biscuits with George Washington!” the Time Lord exclaimed proudly, and Fuse actually dropped his pen, staring at the Mystic like he was a complete moron, “Did you actually know he prefers English muffins over biscotti? It's incredible! I love all the little, chocolate chips you get in a biscotti, but he prefers the buttery goodness of toast. Fuse, why aren't you writing this down?” Fuse didn't answer. Blue didn't think he could. He kept staring in utter bewilderment at the Time Lord, unable to figure out just how or why he'd be eating breakfast with someone who died centuries ago. Rouge looked from Fuse, to the old Mystic. Then he glanced at Orlouge. Even Orlouge was shaking his head in disapproval. He must've realized he'd have to babysit the Time Lord if this was going to work out.

 

“Are you seriously saying you ate breakfast with the first president of the United States?” Zozma asked him. He nodded, and Rouge glanced back at the red-haired Mystic, tilting his head.

 

“What is the United States?” he asked curiously. Zozma grinned.

 

“Some other world or something like that,” he replied simply, “I just know I've read about it. It's supposed to be really big, and it's infested with nothing but humans. There's no magic there, either.” Rouge didn't have the heart to say that wherever the United States were, it sounded bad. He turned back to the Time Lord, whose brows creased seriously, his face becoming grumpy.

 

“You don't even believe me!” he declared indignantly, “What, you think I'm lying!? You don't think I can bring other people from other worlds here!? How do you think I keep such a robust social life? I control TIME ITSELF!” This time, no one seemed to believe him. Fuse glanced at everyone else, but no one made a move to say anything. Not that they could; the Time Lord would find a way to say that their logic made no sense to him. And because he was so old, he wouldn't even try and consider their words. Blue finally decided that he'd give it a try. Technically, he was the best at being diplomatic. Or perhaps he was just good with words.

 

“Time Lord, that's just not possible,” he stated calmly, “Historians say that he died over two hundred years ago. Unless you went back in time and brought him here, which might destroy the fabrics of time itself, I can't believe you.” The Time Lord turned to him stiffly, his face hardened and stern. He crossed his arms stubbornly.

 

“What do historians know? They weren't here,” he pointed out childishly, “Look, are you people going to listen to a dummy, or are you going to listen to me?” Blue just closed his eyes for a long moment. So much for trying to be nice. Behind him, he heard Rouge snort again.

 

“Is there actually a difference?” the younger mage asked, and he heard Ciato tell him to shut up. Blue opened his eyes. Fuse had picked up his pen, but he hadn't written anything else down. He doubted his bosses would believe that a dead president had brunched with an old Mystic. They barely believed that a new way of inter-world transportation was being built right under their noses. He scrunched his nose.

 

“Okay, for the sake of moving on, we'll say you were eating breakfast,” Fuse began, and the Time Lord cut him off.

 

“With George Washington,” he reminded the flustered cop, whose flat expression returned.

 

“Right. With George Washington,” he repeated flatly, “What happened before you went to see your clock? What were you talking about?” The Time Lord hummed, recalling that day. He remembered the biscuits, and he remembered eating jam with them, but he couldn't remember what they'd been talking about. It could've been flowers, for all he knew. And, because he didn't know, he decided that was his answer. Never mind that it was most probably incorrect. Never mind that it might hinder the investigation. He thought it sounded right.

 

“Flowers,” he told them, and Blue was sure Fuse would drop his pen again. If he hadn't believed the old Mystic before, he definitely didn't believe him now. And personally, Blue couldn't blame him for that. As open-minded as he tried to be, Blue couldn't wrap his mind over this story, either.

 

“You were talking about flowers?” Ciato asked him, raising a slender, white brow in amusement, “Why the hell would you talk to him about those?”

 

“Because they're pretty,” the Time Lord responded stubbornly, “Anyway, after that, I heard the doorbell ring. So, I got up to answer it.” Fuse's eyes widened on this critical piece of information. Someone else had been there, after all! Rouge simply looked around, trying to find the front door. Technically, there was none. The Time Lord's region literally was a pocket of space, where you could only get to under certain circumstances. So how did one ring a doorbell there?

 

“…are you saying someone else was here with you?” Fuse asked him critically, and he nodded, “Any particular reason you didn't tell us this before?” Blue didn't think it was good for Fuse's sanity to hear the answer, but obviously Fuse didn't consider himself as capable of losing his cool. And neither did the Time Lord, for he shrugged simply.

 

“I didn't think it was important,” he replied, “Anyway, I answered the door, and who should appear but this little, noble brat from some form of aristocracy! Do you have any idea how unprepared I was? My house wasn't made for little kids, and I didn't think it was time for Halloween, either. I told him to go home, but he insisted on staying.” Fuse just blinked flatly at the old Mystic again, and even though he had no idea where this would make sense, he wrote it down, anyway. It was still a lead, even if its credibility was questionable. Rouge just looked at the Time Lord incredulously. He seemed pretty satisfied with his answers.

 

“Okay, so some rich guy you don't know waltzes into your place, and you don't think it's important for what insane reason?” he questioned, “Do you have strange people wandering around all the time!?” The Time Lord just smiled weakly and shook his head.

 

“You have no idea the whackos I meet sometimes,” he replied bluntly. Blue didn't think Fuse's expression could get any more skeptical, but somehow, the cop succeeded in it. He was half ready to rip up the notes he'd just jotted down.

 

“So, what did this child do?” Fuse asked him, and by the tone of voice, the cop seemed to be praying for patience, whatever good that'd do him then. The Time Lord led them out of the front hall and toward another chamber, this one being furnished somewhat like a modern living room. Maybe he did try in living a normal life. He sat down in a sofa, gesturing for everyone else to sit, too, even though there weren't nearly enough seats for all of them.

 

“The child? Oh, well, after I told him to get out of my house, he just said `no' and walked into my clock chamber,” the old Mystic replied casually, “I heard some banging and clinking, so I was wondering if he was trying to fix my clock. Which is weird, because I don't think it was broken before then. But it must've been.” Everyone seemed pretty sure the Time Lord had no idea what actually happened in his own home. Rouge glanced from Blue, to Ciato, to Ildon, and even to Zozma. They all, without even talking, seemed to form the general consensus that they didn't believe the Time Lord. The young mage returned his gaze to the Mystic in question. He, at least, was damn sure his story was straight.

 

“…did it ever occur to you that he might've been the one who broke your clock?” Rouge asked slowly. The Time Lord blinked, as though he were actually considering Rouge's suggestion, as wild and insane as he thought it was. But in the end, he shook his head.

 

“Absolutely preposterous!” the old Mystic declared, “Why, how can you even suggest that? Do you think I'd let any old bum in my house if I thought he'd destroy everything!? Well, let me tell you, I'm not some punk brought up on the curb! I have street smarts, and I know when bad things happen in my house! I'd have known if he destroyed everything. I'd have had George kick him out if that happened!” Rouge raised a brow, trying not to just laugh at the guy. Anyone who had street smarts wouldn't have been trying to convince them that a dead president from another world was eating breakfast with him. Anyone with any smarts would've put two and two together by now. Even Fuse seemed to understand what was most probably what happened. Whoever this man had been, he did something to break the clock.

 

“Time Lord, is that man still here?” Ildon asked, trying to remain at least a little compassionate toward the old, demented Mystic, no matter how little he actually deserved it. The Time Lord tilted his head questioningly.

 

“Who, George?” he replied, and smiled, “No, no, he said he had to sign some declaration, so I let him go.”

 

“We were talking about the aristocrat you were complaining about!” Zozma exclaimed in exasperation, “Damn it, Orlouge! Can I please have permission to kill him!?” Orlouge turned to the red-haired Mystic flatly, looking completely disinterested in the man's frustrated request. He shook his head.

 

“Permission denied,” he stated, and then turned to his oldest friend, “What of the aristocrat? Did he leave?” The Time Lord looked confused now. He must've forgotten who they were referring to. Blue just snorted as Fuse brought the poor man back up to speed. This was definitely the most frustrating, yet amusing case they've involved themselves in, and he suddenly found he was beginning to miss when Joker had been with them. At least he cooperated fully to help them. Then again, he was the one who was being charged at the time, too, even though he hadn't actually done anything of his own volition. Finally, though, the Time Lord snapped his fingers, snapping Blue out of his thoughts.

 

“Oh, heavens, no!” he declared proudly, “When I heard all that noise, I was terrified something was going wrong when it didn't stop after an hour! I walked in and saw a huge crack in the glass, so I was sure it was starting to shatter again, and I locked the door so nothing else would happen. Now that I think of it… I might've locked him in there, too.” Rouge and Blue stared in utter horror. That had to have been nearly five days ago, perhaps even more! Five long days without food, water, or a place to go to the bathroom. No human could live with that. No normal one, anyway. Rouge turned to Fuse.

 

“Boss, I think we'd better go and see this chamber. We might have a corpse on our hands,” he stated worriedly. Fuse nodded, writing what the Time Lord said down as a statement. He also added a footnote stating that the Time Lord definitely wasn't in the proper mindset when they began this investigation. Then he put his pad away and nodded absently in response to Rouge's suggestion.

 

“I agree. Okay, Time Lord. Take us to this chamber of yours and let's see what's happened,” Fuse said. The Time Lord led them out of the living room and through a dark hallway; space literally seemed to swirl above where a ceiling should've been, shattering whatever illusion the living room was trying to give. The chamber doors were sealed and barred shut, and Rouge swallowed hard as they walked up the short flight of stone steps leading to it. A knot began to form in his stomach over what might be in there, and the air felt thin and cold. It was like a horror flick he'd seen with Red; someone somewhere was dead, or going to die soon. It was all just a matter of how long it'd take to find it.

 

“You don't really think there's a dead body in there, do you?” Zozma asked Ciato, as they came closer to the set of wooden doors. Ciato's face paled slightly, unable to form an answer; he was partly worried they'd find a corpse, too. Ildon, however, just snorted and shook his head. Unlike everyone else, he hadn't fully dealt with the Time Lord. Or with Fuse. Or, pretty much, with any part of this harebrained investigation.

 

“If there is, it belongs to a dead rabbat,” he said sarcastically, “Do you honestly expect me to believe this man keeps dead, rotting flesh in his house? Come on, not even Lord Orlouge would do that, even if Princess Rei actually died.” Ciato actually laughed, and Rouge couldn't help but snort, just a little bit. Orlouge, who was in the back, creased his brows and cleared his throat. But if he thought that'd get Ildon's attention, he was disappointed. So, he tried the direct approach.

 

“I can hear you!” he shouted, and Ciato's laughter grew, “Let me advise you that if you do not stop talking behind my back, there will be a dead body in there!” Fuse glanced back flatly at the desperate threat, and Blue saw him move for his handcuffs. But no one else seemed to take the flustered Mystic even remotely seriously. Zozma just grinned and looked back at his master.

 

“Technically, lord o' mine, we're not behind you,” he reminded him, “So, aren't you really eavesdropping on us?” Orlouge's eyes widened, and he stopped. Clearly, that form of logic flabbergasted him. And by the look on the Time Lord's face, it flabbergasted him, as well. Only Fuse seemed even remotely willing to back up Zozma's question as he turned around and walked to Orlouge. Blue just sighed. Clearly, this was going to be another perfectly retarded Fuse moment.

 

“So now we've got you on kidnapping, harassment, wrongful imprisonment, civil disobedience, and eavesdropping?” Fuse asked him, almost amused, “Just how many centuries of jail time are you looking to serve, buddy?” Rouge couldn't help but snicker again. If Fuse actually thought he was going to arrest a Mystic, he must've forgotten he'd have to deal with Ildon, Ciato, and Zozma as well. Except for the fact that Zozma was the one who made the accusation, and Ciato seemed more likely to just sit and laugh rather than help his own master out. And Rouge couldn't be sure of just how loyal Ildon was. Orlouge didn't seem the least bit afraid of Fuse, however, for he turned to the cop and shook his head.

 

“Now wait just a minute, my friend!” he exclaimed in exasperation, “I did no such thing! Eavesdropping requires it to be purposely done and voluntary in nature! I didn't mean to hear them! They were speaking loudly enough for me to be unable to avoid! And they insulted me! By rights, I should be offended!” Blue glanced at Fuse, wondering how the old cop was taking that counter-attack. Fuse just shrugged and turned to Ciato and Zozma. It must not have mattered who he'd be arresting, just as long as it was someone.

 

“He's got us there,” Fuse stated simply, “All right, which one of you hates your lives a little more?” Blue just let out a groan of frustration as Ciato raised his hand. Fuse walked over and began handcuffing him, reading him his rights in prison, while Rouge just laughed at the scene. Blue shook his head. If anyone was going to get this investigation rolling, it'd have to be him. He walked up to Fuse and tapped his shoulder. The old cop turned and said, “Son, it's really rude to interrupt a booking. Is this important?” Blue's eyes narrowed flatly. Considering that they were smack in the middle of a mission to save a world, he thought it was very important.

 

“I don't know. Is the possibility of finding a corpse and saving a world `important?” Blue retorted in annoyance, “Sir, can't you make an arrest after we've checked out the crime scene?” Fuse wanted to argue that he wanted to make an arrest right then, but in a blast of logic, he realized Blue's point. For all they knew, there wouldn't be a corpse, and the culprit that broke the Time Lord's clock might actually get away. Besides, checking the crime scene first was the right way to do things, and while Fuse liked to get creative when it came to making arrests, he did like to follow the rules at least a little bit. He nodded, and released Ciato.

 

“All right… we might as well,” he sighed, and turned to the Time Lord, “You mind opening this door up so we can get this over with? I want to make an arrest sometime today.” The Time Lord just nodded, and everyone parted to let him through. He strode majestically to the doors, and held out a hand. For a moment, everyone watched with extreme interest, assuming he'd use some kick ass magic to break it down. But he did no such thing. Taking a deep breath, he said one word. One word that, in his mind, should've blown the doors apart with such magnificence, such splendor, such fiery rage, that no door in existence would ever block their path again simply in fear of that one, single, simple word.

 

“Open,” he commanded, holding his hand out to the door. Everyone else waited. Nothing happened in the least. Rouge raised an eyebrow, wondering if there was more to what the Time Lord was planning, but the old Mystic shrugged after a moment, turned, and said, “I did all I can do.” Then he walked down the steps, as though it were no big deal that his door was hindering their investigation. Fuse watched him with narrow eyes, and then looked over at Blue and Rouge, both of whom nodded. The doors were simple enough; though they were large, they were made of wood, and latched shut with a wooden bar. Blue and Rouge ran to one end of the bar and lifted it up and away, setting it against the stone frame. Fuse took a deep breath, and using the thirty-seven some-odd years of strength his body had in it, began to push against the doors. Slowly, painfully slowly, the doors began to open, the crack between them widened as it admitted a bright, golden light from the other side. Zozma and Ciato shielded their eyes, squinting even in the protection their armor offered them. The light spilled onto the otherwise blue stone floor, and when his eyes adjusted, Blue saw the outline of the giant hourglass within. Fuse walked in, followed by Rouge, and then Blue, and then the Mystics behind them. The room was quiet, the air cold.

 

“Anyone in here?” Rouge called, his voice surprisingly muffled in the room. He stepped forward, and heard a crunch underneath him. Bending down, he picked up a handful of fine, white sand. It was spilling, just slightly, from a small crack within the clock. Rouge glanced around again, and then turned as he asked, “Time Lord, are you sure someone was in here?”

 

“Well… not absolutely, but I don't think he got away,” came the uncertain reply, “Oh, and I remember why I never closed those doors back there. What a pain to open!” Fuse silently agreed as he rubbed his aching shoulder, looking all over the clock to find any sign of a person, dead or alive. But there was nothing out of the ordinary, and the only noise, save for their conversations, came from the sand that spilled onto the floor. He growled in frustration. Something about this seemed too innocent.

 

“Did you see him escape?” Fuse demanded tiredly, leaning against the clock. The Time Lord looked up at the golden ceiling, tapping his chin. Then he shook his head.

 

“No. I didn't take a good look when I shut the doors,” he replied, and everyone else groaned miserably, “Is that a problem?”

 

“Most of your facts would've been a bit more helpful beforehand,” Ildon mumbled, laying his palm against his forehead. Fuse took out his notebook, his eyebrows raising in acknowledgment to Ildon's statement when he heard tapping behind him. He jumped up in shock, and everyone looked at the bottom chamber of the hourglass. Just barely, in the sand, they caught a faint outline of a person. Blue blinked quickly. Someone was actually trapped in the clock! Fuse swore angrily, and taking out his blaster, he smashed a huge hole in the glass, and the person came sliding out. Unlike the Time Lord's description, however, this person was in no way a child. He looked older than Blue! But he was dressed as nobility. His long, brown hair was tied in a braid, and with Rouge's help, he stood up and shook his head. Sand cascaded onto the floor.

 

“…Time Lord, I thought you said a child was trapped in the clock,” Ciato pointed out disinterestedly. The Time Lord put his hands on his hips and nodded.

 

“I'm over three trillion years old, boy. Everyone is a child compared to me,” the old Mystic stated, “And you all just broke my clock even more!” Unfortunately for him, no one appeared to care much for his clock right then. The nobleman dusted his red cloak off, and Fuse walked up to him. Blue was amazed at the sheer contrast between the two; this man was clearly bred for high social class, and Fuse looked rugged, ragged, and now he was beginning to look just a little unshaven, too. It was almost comical, because Fuse happened to be in charge of the interrogation now.

 

“Are you all right, soldier?” Fuse asked in alarm, “What's your name, son?” The nobleman looked down at him, and Blue swore he recognized the man. But from where, he couldn't place. The man chuckled, a thin smile gracing his lips.

 

“I am Philippe of Finney,” he stated calmly, and extended a hand, “We've met in Hahn Nova. I believe you took Rita to court and had her executed by my brother.” Fuse looked at him blankly, as though he couldn't remember what the man was saying. Then he grinned and shook Philippe's hand.

 

“I remember now! You were the bastard who took three hours driving a boat there!” Fuse exclaimed, and Blue's face paled. He wasn't entirely sure how aristocracy worked and how easy it was to offend them, but he was certain Fuse managed to pull it off. The thin, slight smile on Philippe's face vanished instantly, and his nose wrinkled. He was definitely offended.

 

“How lovely to see you too, sir,” he replied, and coughed, “Well, I suppose I'll just be on my way, then.” He let go of Fuse's hand and went to walk out the door, but Ciato blocked him with his sword.

 

“Hold it! What the hell were you doing in that clock!?” the young Mystic demanded, “Are you the one who broke in here and broke it!?”

 

“Yes he is!” the Time Lord exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Philippe, “He interrupted George's story on some river called Delaware! I remember him!” Not only did Philippe look at the old man flatly, but Ciato didn't seem to credit the ancient's words, either. He growled and shook his head, gesturing for Fuse to take over before he hurt someone. Fuse obliged.

 

“Why'd you come here in the first place?” the cop asked calmly, though there was a tone of skepticism in his voice, “Shouldn't you be helping your brother with political mumbo-jumbo in Hahn Nova?” Philippe's eyes narrowed and one of his eyes actually twitched. Something must've happened between him and Gustave.

 

“If by `help,' you mean `kill,' then yes. I should probably be doing that,” Philippe agreed, and then just decided to go on a tangent, “I can't believe him, either! Raising taxes in Finney! In our dear father's homeland! Just because I managed to accidentally sink two of our merchant ships and delayed shipping businesses all along Westia and Jade! Because he can't have his stupid Cantal-style eggs and biscuits, he's going to charge me for it!” Fuse turned and risked a glance at the two twins, feeling that they'd probably be best-suited to handling a situation like this. Rouge was laughing; Blue was merely shaking his head in disbelief. This sounded like something Rouge would pull for fun.

 

“Okay, so you destroyed your brother's economy, and you're wondering why he's charging you for it?” Zozma asked, raising an amused brow, “Why come here?” Philippe breathed heavily, clearly taxed from the energy used to rant like that. He took steady, deep breaths. When his heart stopped threatening to explode, he spoke.

 

“I came here to erase him from time!” Philippe declared, brows creasing, “I want to show him that you can't mess with aristocracy! There's no way I'm paying seven percent tax on a robe. I'm royalty! Do you have any idea how many robes I own!?” Blue just blinked slowly. This definitely sounded like Rouge. He glanced at his brother, and then at Philippe. If he wanted to reach out, he'd have to use the same logic he applied when dealing with Rouge's antics.

 

“If you erase Gustave, you'll be killing yourself, too,” Blue reasoned flatly. Philippe opened his mouth to protest, and then he closed it. Technically, Blue was right. And even though Gustave ruined his life when he was little, through no true fault of Gustave's, Philippe liked living. He liked ruling Finney. He liked winning battles. He sighed, and turned back to Fuse.

 

“You can arrest my brother for this, can't you?” he asked, “You're a guard, aren't you?” Fuse raised a questioning brow, and just grinned.

 

“This isn't extortion, so I can't do a damn unless he's blowing the money on drugs,” the cop replied, almost regretfully, “And technically, you're the one who broke and entered this premises, so I don't think you should be talking to me about stopping crimes, buddy.” Philippe's mouth dropped. That might've been true, but in his mind, he wouldn't have had to do so if Gustave had been brought to justice for raising his taxes. Thankfully, he was respectful enough to not argue with the law. Not that he would've won. He just sighed, and Fuse turned, nearly smacking into the Time Lord, who'd come up to tap his shoulder. Fuse gave a questioning glance and asked, “Yes?”

 

“I just wanted to remind you, since you're supposed to be helping me, that my clock is STILL BROKEN!” the Time Lord shouted angrily, brows creasing in an angry V, “We have the culprit, so I demand you all fix my clock this instant! Right now! Now, now, now!” Blue wasn't sure just how he should feel about the Time Lord throwing a temper tantrum, but he was pretty sure amusement was his key emotion. He looked at Rouge. The younger mage looked at the hourglass, wondering just how they were possibly going to patch up the huge hole Fuse just made. He looked at his older brother. Blue was smiling. He must've known something.

 

“You have a plan, bro?” he asked. Blue nodded, taking the Sand Vessel out of his pocket.

 

“Just follow my lead, Rouge,” Blue replied slyly, “I've fixed this clock before.” Rouge nodded, and a small smile graced him as well. Even if he had no idea how to fix such a huge clock, Blue obviously knew what he was doing. Rouge trusted Blue. Together, they jumped up to the rim of the hourglass, where a giant clock face sat to keep the top chamber closed. Blue bent down, and began to focus his power on the Sand Vessel. If he was going to patch the clock up again, he'd need a lot of power and focus to do it. He just hoped he and Rouge had enough. At the very least, for the Time Lord's sake.

 

-----------------------------(End Chapter)

 

And so, after getting the Sand Vessel and asking Virgil to take them to the Time Lord's world, Blue and Rouge finally find the culprit behind the broken clock! Just how Philippe got into a pocket of space is beyond them, but at least they solved the case. Now, can they fix the Time Lord's broken clock before time itself collapses? What of the Time Lord's breakfast buddy? And will any more unwanted guests pass through? Find out next chapter, so click that Review button!