The Reason For Our Sorrow
By Dais

*
     Jonathan marched on, his dark robes floating silently around him. He walked 
     slowly and distinctively towards the Disciples quarters. Fate was bringing it's 
     judgment forth. Around him, the tall, looming buildings of the Sanctuary 
     continued to shield them from the horrors and injustices of the world. Others 
     like him moved back and forth between the towers of steel bone. He was not 
     alone in his destiny, whatever it may be. He kept towards the quarters. Ice 
     crunching under his feet, Jonathan finally reached the doorway into the 
     low-set house. Knocking briskly on the door, he praised the wondrous world of 
     cold around him, which drowned the echoing sound, so only he and those inside 
     could hear it. After a brief moment's wait, the metal door swung in, and 
     Jonathan proceeded inside. Dull, yet eager eyes watched him. His fellow 
     teachers in the Way. They prepared the uninitiated to walk the right Path, 
     when the savior Beruga came. A single town against the madness of this world. 
     But they had all the power of truth. Jonathan brushed his coal-black robes, 
     and the white, chilling snow fell to the ground. No-one moved to pick it up. 
     In time, it would melt. It would flow down, into the underground streams, and 
     survive to serve a greater body of water. And that was how Jonathan and his 
     fellow Disciples would serve, lasting eternally in the Sanctuary, teaching the
     Way, and guiding the world to the Path, all for Beruga, their savior.
	
*
     Clasping his own Disciples Jewel to his neck, Jonathan ascended the cold, 
     shadowed stairway. It led him, in time, to the rooms of teaching, where he 
     would prepare to serve with all his heart. The pagans, atheists, and blind must
     know the way, for the sake of Beruga, their savior. Once in the classroom, 
     Jonathan removed the gleaming Jewel, and placed it upon the pedestal at the 
     front. As machinery whirred into action, he basked in the wonder, for this had
     been created long ago, far too long ago, and still worked as the day Beruga 
     had placed his hand upon it. The stand split open around the gem, unfolding 
     into a platform, and revealing the magnificent tools within. Jonathan marveled
     at the wonder of it all, as he set about preparing the day's lesson. Preparing,
     to teach both the young and old, the strange and familiar. For in the eyes of 
     Beruga, all upon the Path were worthy to receive the gift  of immortality.

*

     There was a new one today. Jonathan knew all of those set before him, for they
     were long educated, and all on the way to becoming Disciples. But this one had
     come unexpectedly, and a remarkable excitement surrounded him. Though 
     completely filled in the days of it's construction, few mortals ever made a 
     pilgrimage to the Sanctuary. So in this way, this new boy, uneducated in the 
     ways of Beruga, came to the classroom where Jonathan was teaching.
	
     "Greetings." Jonathan's mouth barely moved, and he turned quietly to the new 
     figure. The boy was dressed strangely, even for the world outside. He was 
     covered in a colorful cloak, which had many layers, perfect to move through 
     the cold of the north. His hair was wild and unkempt, and he moved with a 
     darting run. Jonathan watched the form dance around, taking everything in.	
     "What?" The boy turned around, distraction and confusion on his face. Jonathan
     held out a single hand, unmoving, beckoning. "Fate calls you. Welcome to the 
     city if Mosque, our Sanctuary." The boy continued to stare at the teacher. 
     Jonathan continued. "Please be seated. We are about to begin the teachings of 
     Beruga." The boy watched Jonathan for a moment, looked around quickly, and 
     found a open spot on one of the many benches.
	
*

     That day, Jonathan spoke with a vigor few had ever seen. This was a chance to 
     bring a new soul into the caring hand of Beruga. He repeated the opening words
     that all new students heard. He detailed the whole plan of life and immortality
     that their savior had planned. He felt a surge of excitement go through him, 
     as he felt a deeper understanding of the way then ever before. And the boy sat
     there silently, watching, taking it all in.....

*

     The metal buildings no longer loomed. They lay burning upon the ground, 
     encased in the flames of the unbeleivers. Many cries echoed across the remains
     of the Sanctuary. "He is dead!" Some said. "Take off you chains of slavery!" 
     Jonathan watched as citizens streamed out the broken gates, emerging into the
     dark, cold world. He even saw a few Disciples throw down their robes, moving 
     to join the mob. Jonathan glided silently across the cruel snow. No-one took 
     notice of him. Their were a few others like him, lurking in the shadows. He 
     saw a group of several Disciples, and moved towards them. Standing among those
     few remaining, Jonathan encompassed the whole with his mind. There was no time
     to ask what had happened, or what was going to occur. There were much more 
     pressing thoughts. Another Disciple turned to him. Jonathan acknowledged the 
     speaker. "What shall we do now? Our savior-" Jonathan held up a restraining 
     hand. He would hear no more. The speaker closed his mouth, and paused for a 
     moment. Then he spoke up again. "But.."	Jonathan reached out with his hand,
     and grabbed at the cloaked figure. Caught by surprise, the speaker went mute. 
     Dormant muscles rippled as Jonathan picked up the Disciple effortlesly, 
     raising him for the others to see. "I will hear no more." The man's eyes 
     widened. "Your mad. We've-" Jonathan swung the figure back, and then hurled it
     forward. The Disciple flew several feet, and crashed into the rubble of a 
     mettalic wall. The body tensed and flailed for a moment, then turned still and
     slid down silently. Jonathan turned to his fellows. They all watched him. 
     "What has happened does not matter. What matters is that were betrayed." The 
     others looked to him wordlessly. "Betrayed by one who had learned our way, and
     even helped ressurect our Savior. Betrayed." Jonathan stood silently, 
     surrounded by the watching Disciples. After a moment of listening to the 
     shrill, howling wind, he bared the item in his hand. It was a Disciple's Jewel.
     The others watched it. "Betrayed, and thus we lost our power. Betrayed, and 
     thus we lost our immortality." He crouched down, his robes settling into the 
     snow. "Betrayed." He reached up silently, the gem held up, and threw it down. 
     It smashed into the ground, splintering into thousands of shards. The others 
     stood there, quiet. As the shards of crystal sunk into the cold whitness, 
     Jonathan rose again, looking to the others. "We have been betrayed, and for 
     that, we shall have our revenge." He turned, and began walking towards the now
     empty gates. He stopped, and allowed another Disciple to moved into posistion 
     beside him. "What is is?" The man's mouth 	gaped open for a moment, as he 
     thought over what to say. Finally, the words came out as a timid croak. "But..
     we would need...a leader..." Jonathan paused, as the wind picked up, blowing 
     ice in a swirl around him. His mouth opened, with a great hiss of steam. "A 
     leader." He looked up at the dark grey sky. "Yesssssss....." His tounge ran 
     along his lips hungrily, and the Disciple backed away.	Jonathan stood there
     for a moment, then strode forward. He came to the middle of what had once been 
     the portal to their Sanctuary, Mosque. Stopping there, he bent over in though. 
     The others followed, and came into a half-circle behind him. Suddenly, Jonathan
     raised his hand. The others jumped back. He held it high, and the robe slid 
     back from it, revealing his pale skin underneath. He held a defiant, trembling
     fist to the heavens above, alone in his own world. "Yes!" He shouted, 
     scattering the others even further. "Yes!" He raised the other hand, and stood
     there, triumphant in glory. "Yes, they shall have their new leader!"

-To be continued....
 
*********************** 
Duhhh duh deh duh deh duh duh....duh dey duh, dey dey dey dey duh....

Damn, I love the music in this game. Beruga's theme rocks. So, this is just a 
little fanfic-thingy. What I'm really hoping is that someone will take the setting 
I've made, and continue on with it. I really would enjoy seeing what other people 
hink of my work. So if you have comments, ideas, suggestions, or additions, 
anything to do with Terranigma fanfics. Either send it to me at    

dais12@hotmail.com    

,or...umm....stick it up on my messageboard. Yeah. But I like e-mail better. 
Besides, the messageboards is SUPPOSED to be about the wild world of Norwegian 
walrus wrestling. Thou hast been warned. Cheers to Snape, Cherubae, Dante, anybody 
who gives.

-Dais