Disclaimer: I don't own Chrono Trigger, nor do I pretend that I do. Even if I did, the army of lawyers that would come after me would make me change my mind. Chrono Trigger is the property of SquareEnix.
Power is Beauty
A Chrono Trigger Fanfiction
By Jade Dixon
"Power is beautiful, and I've got power!"
-Flea, Chrono Trigger
Those simpletons would never understand. It is a truth far beyond them. They likely see me as 'perverted' for dressing as a woman, but it's not like that at all. Our skin is a mask for the power our bodies contain, a disguise and nothing else. What does a mask care for a few extra decorations? What does a disguise care for stereotypes?
My power is great. I know this. Lord Magus has complimented me on the great power I contain, and my use of it for the cause. It was Lord Magus who taught me about the masks we must wear to survive in this harsh world, and how to best utilize them to confuse our enemies. Of course, I expanded on the lesson.
It's true that, if my enemies thought I was a woman, they would believe I was weaker; but thinking of me as a man who would like to be a woman, they will let their disgust overpower their reason, and allow themselves to be thrown off balance.
So I dress as a woman, act like a woman, yet protest being called a woman. Inept enemies will mull over the contradictions, and I will crush them.
Slash knows all this, and once he asked if it bothered me, pretending to be what I'm not. Because we have been friends for a long time, I answered him.
Power is the only thing that matters, the only thing that is worth being considered 'beautiful'. If Lord Magus, of all people, felt it worthy to compliment my power, then it must be great. So I know that however strange a form I take on, and however I must behave, I will always have that comfort; a part of me that cannot be changed will always be 'attractive'.
Besides, it's kinda fun messing with people's heads. And I make a hot chick.
Of course, Lord Magus is the most beautiful person I know. There's so much power beneath that skin that it almost glows.
It must have been hard, being separated from home and species, and losing a sibling, all at the same time. I cannot imagine what sorrows are concealed behind that scowling visage.
Does this sound like a love song? It should.
That's right. The blue-haired one has stolen my heart, and I will not deny it. Those who do not understand this truth that I have learned would scorn and mock me for my feelings, but I maintain that appearances do not matter.
I suppose it all started the moment I discovered Magus.
Years before, Ozzie witnessed a young boy with no magical powers to call his own appear out of thin air. Hoping for a weapon the boy was brought to the fortress, where he remained a useless, magicless burden.
This was soon rectified.
Shortly thereafter, I found the child who would become our leader shivering in the cold, tattered blue hair waving restlessly in the wind, and tears flowing freely. Once the words started, they would not stop, and so I was privy to the truth about the long lost magical kingdom. Despite the frail look that this spectre presented, I could feel the powerful magic lying beneath the surface and was awed. I knew then, even before I learned the truth about power, that this being could lead the Mystics to glory, and was worthy enough for me to serve.
Of course, I was also selfish. Lord Magus was a useful tool to increase my standing within the Mystic army. Just the right piece of information was able to cause the exact reaction I was hoping for. We both wanted Ozzie humbled. Myself, for advancement, and Lord Magus, for revenge.
We both knew that we had to wait for the most opportune moment, or our plan would not work. In the interim we taught each other what we could, and I was privileged to observe the careful honing of powers I could never hope to control myself.
And if occasionally Lord Magus felt doubts about our goal, all it would take would be a not-so-gentle reminder of Ozzie's merciless cruelty; a cold rage would take hold, and determination would be set. It was not long before these prods became unnecessary as a harshness of character developed.
Eventually, Ozzie bowed to Lord Magus, just as planned.
Now there are no shared secrets in the night, no confidences exchanged, or friends tutored. Now we are master and servant, as it was always meant to be.
But I will always remember the most precious gift that Lord Magus gave on that first night we met: power in the form of knowledge. I was given the name that was immediately thereafter sworn off, as a new identity was donned, and a superior mask put in place.
I alone know Lord Magus' true name.
And her name is Schala.
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