He opened his eyes slowly and widened them further in shock. He was completely surrounded by a vast desert that appeared to extend out forever in all directions. There was a lack of greenery or any type of vegetation in sight. The light wind that passed by picked up the tiny sand particles, blowing them around. The sun burned brighter than usual as it sent down its rays from the cloudless pale blue sky. To his left was a thick wooden pole with a pattern of long metal rods sticking out at the top. He didn't recognize this desert as anything he had ever seen in Guardia before.
Then he remembered just what invention it was that he'd just tried out...the telepod, which was famous for sending people through time. Realization dawned on him that perhaps he was in a different time period. The problem with that theory was that he didn't recall entering a blue portal, which was the typical passageway through time's circuits. The experience was identical to the successful first test of the pods at the Millennial Fair, not the transports through time. This location didn't bring up any recollections from the other time periods he'd visited either. "Maybe this is the new future that occurred after we destroyed Lavos!" he said aloud.
The gusts of wind became stronger and scooped up more of the sand around him, signaling the beginning of a sandstorm. He was having difficulty discerning anything around him, if there was anything to see besides the large pole. Crono was worried. He stood in the same location, waiting patiently for Taban and Lucca to reactivate the telepod and return him back to the Guardia he knew.
After several minutes, he heard the faint patter of the steps of work animals behind him. He spun around quickly, and a particularly forceful gust of wind blew sand into his eyes. After rubbing them, he scanned his barely visible surroundings for the source of the sound. Maybe it's my friends! Perhaps they've found a way to bring me back! he thought, hope growing inside him.
Two large yellow bird creatures suddenly appeared no more than three feet in front of him. The birds squawked loudly. Startled, Crono dodged out of their way. As he fell into a pyramidal sand dune, he heard a mechanical buzzing noise. Then a voice yelled out, "Hey, there's another one out here at Station 14!" Another person responded, but the voice was soft and the accompanying static made the words unintelligible to Crono.
He picked himself out of the sand. The sandstorm was beginning to weaken again, and he could better make out the creatures before him. The birds were of no species that he had even encountered before. They were about seven feet tall each, with long legs and plump feather-covered bodies. On their backs were saddles, making them appear suitable for riding. The reins and bridles on the two creatures connected them to a cart of brown metal. The material was similar to that which created the body of his futuristic mechanical friend Robo.
Riding in the front seat were two soldiers in green and red uniforms and matching helmets. Over their clothes were vests of silver mail. The soldier on the right was carrying a small machine with speakers and a metal rod protruding from the top, much like those on top of the pole. The other soldier carried the reins. Crono couldn't see what was inside the cart, but the large moving shadows made him certain that it was carrying a large group of people.
The soldier who was carrying the reins turned to his companion. "Hey, check out the hairdo on this one!"
Crono sighed. Some things never change with time... he thought to himself. Everyone seemed to enjoy hassling him about his odd spiky hairstyle.
"Hey, kid!" the soldier with the machine called out. "Climb on!"
"What are you talking about?" Crono didn't know these men, and had no idea as to what they wanted.
The wind started howling again, and the conversation had to be yelled to be heard. "King Edgar is waiting for all of you to help with the renovations of the castle. So hurry up and get inside! We haven't got all day!" said the soldier with the machine impatiently.
"And if we don't hurry, another sandstorm will stir up, and we'll be stuck again!" the driver added.
"But I'm not..."
The first soldier interrupted before Crono was able to finish his protest. "Well, obviously you're one of the volunteers. No one ever enters the Figarian desert unless they're coming to Figaro Castle. Now, are you coming, or do I have to get down and pull you on board? Don't chicken out on your country, son!"
"Please! Let me explain...," Crono tried again, his frustration mounting. "I'm going to wait here... for the next caravan." If I even move from this spot, then I may never get home. Oh, hurry up, Lucca! He thought frantically.
"Well, kid, we're the last caravan back to the castle. There are no more chocobo carts returning to the desert today. Don't worry. There's plenty of room in there for you. Right, boys?" the second soldier said. Affirmative cries were audible from the cart's interior.
Crono remained silent. He would wait all night in the desert if he had to, but he had no intentions of leaving. The driver put down his reins and jumped down from the his seat, grabbing Crono's arm. "If you don't come now, we'll have you put on trial!" he said angrily.
That sentence brought back memories of that Crono had been attempting to drive from his mind for years. He recalled his trial from when he'd been accused of kidnapping Nadia, when the king had wanted to teach his daughter a lesson. Even though he'd done nothing wrong, he was still found guilty by the jury, and was sentenced to execution via the guillotine. Thankfully, Lucca had broken him out of prison just in time, and Nadia had gotten them safely out of the castle. Later, King Guardia XXXIII had apologized and had him acquitted of all crimes, but the memory of being in jail for nothing still remained a painful one. He had no desire to ever see a courtroom again.
With that, he climbed reluctantly into the cart, under the watchful eyes of the two soldiers. The cart was filled with fifteen other men of various ages, holding intense discussions amongst themselves. Crono sat down, sighing inwardly. That's it, he told himself silently. I'm never trying another one of Lucca's inventions again. If I ever get home...
Two bumpy hours later, Crono climbed out of the cart, feeling as if he was about to vomit. The cart had moved with incredible sluggishness, and the dunes throughout the desert made the journey bumpier than he'd expected. He had ignored the conversations of his fellow passengers, and had kept mostly to himself.
Now he looked up and took his first glance at Figaro Castle. Though they were two different edifices, the building shared some similarities with Guardia Castle, such as the large stone walls and high-rising towers. In the sand around him were soldiers, all wearing the same uniforms as those who had driven the cart. They were riding the yellow birds, called chocobos. All around the castle were rotating fans, keeping the citizens of Figaro cool in the burning desert heat. It was an incredible sight to behold, Crono admitted to himself. Even though he had no desire to be there, his curiosity about this futuristic kingdom was increasing.
A tall man in a green and red robe and a feathered hat came through the front entrance of the castle. "Welcome to Figaro Castle!" he said enthusiastically to the sixteen men standing before him. "King Edgar is pleased that you are all volunteering your time to assist us in our renovations. Prepare yourselves for some hard work!"
Labor was something that Crono would rather have avoided. In his mind, he possessed no skills, save with the katana, and so had avoided working for as long as possible. For the last few years, he had been employed as a bodyguard. He never considered that working; it was in truth just an excuse to spend more time with his girlfriend. This was a worse situation that what he had anticipated. He wished that he'd fought off the Figaro soldiers and just stayed in the desert, doing nothing.
Crono was placed in the engine room in Figaro Castle's third basement, cleaning layers of grease off the huge rotating gears. He didn't know why a stationary place such as a castle would ever need an engine room, but questioning his new employers wasn't something he was willing to attempt.
He looked down at his loose-fitting attire and was dismayed to find it covered with spots of the same black grime that he'd been scrubbing at. He groaned quietly enough so that no one else could hear him. There were two other men of about his age from the carriage he'd ridden over in cleaning the engines as well.
Crono wondered about what events had happened that had created this new desert kingdom from what seemed to be a perfectly fine one. He jumped down from the platform that he'd been standing on and walked over to his companions, deciding that he could question these two about this new future.
"Excuse me," he said, "but whatever happened to the Kingdom of Guardia?"
One of the men turned to Crono and said, "Kingdom of Guardia? Never heard of it." He turned to the other man. "How about you, Gary?"
Gary shook his head as well. "Neither have I," he answered.
Crono was confused. Apparently, this was not the future. Could it be that this is the time after Zeal fell and the ice age ended? It was true that Zeal was a great civilization with advancements that rivaled even the ones in the present. "Well, what about the Kingdom of Zeal?"
Gary looked at him strangely. "Where have you been living? There's no such place as Zeal, either."
A queasy feeling came over Crono. Well then, where HAVE I ended up?