A/N: Howdy all! This is just a very brief one-shot into the thoughts of Yojimbo, the enigma of Aeons. He always seemed such a contradiction to me. Such as, the fact that he became an Aeon, imprisoned and enslaved himself for all eternity for the benefit of others (a seemingly selfless deed) and then turn around and demand money (which he cant even use) for his services. So I got to thinking, and realised that the only possible explanation is that Yojimbo is purposely trying to avoid the Summoners. And the game left a lot of unanswered questions. Why did the mercenary become a Fayth to begin with? What had happened to make him (an obviously selfish man) resort to such a thing? How did he become stolen and end up in a deserted cave? This was originally the opening to a Yojimbo story until I realized it could stand alone. This is my tribute to the most interesting of Aeons, the great Yojimbo!
I was always the outcast. I never pretended to be anything else. Even now, even in these warped, strange times, where my kind are worshipped, revered for decisions we made a millennium ago in the heat of the moment, I'm brandished still as unusual and in some cases, detestable. After all, am I not a servant of Yevon? Should I not prostrate myself to the will of the summoner so I can aid them in committing foolish suicide? Should I not whore my abilities without thought to these young heroes, because ultimately, it is done in Yevon's name?
Well...forgive me if I have lost the rose tinted glasses I wore when I first condemned myself to an eternity imprisoned in stone, only feeling the light of the sun, the touch of wind, the coldness of rain and the bitter kiss of snow when summoned, and to be pulled back into darkness and dreams once I am no longer needed. Oh, how I long for rest...If I could turn the years back to that terrible, bloody day and warn myself, tell myself of the consequences of my rash decision to become immortal, the decision made in mind consuming grief and pain, to simply tell myself to submit myself to the ease of death...I did not comprehend then...the enormity of what I had gotten myself into. Even as I felt my very soul rip from my flesh, encased in stone and the power the ritual granted me, still I did not see beyond my rage, my desire for vengeance.
And I unleashed my terrible agony through the weapons of countless summoners. I watched in satisfaction as Yunalesca, the first high summoner, destroyed Sin with the insane Aeon of Lord Zaon. I gloried once more when her successor once again tore Sin limb from limb with the soul of his own sister turned destroyer. And it continued...until eventually I received no pleasure in the so called "death" of Sin...every time Sin returned. And I realized the truth. Yevon had beaten us all the moment he crafted the amour of Sin with the soul of the first Aeon. Sin was eternal...every time his armor was destroyed, he would rebuild anew.
And as the red fog lifted from my eyes, I saw the turmoil and suffering the Summoners endured when told they had to not only sacrificed their own lives, but the lives of their loved ones as well. So I decided I would aid them in this fruitless endeavor no more. I would put them off from seeking my aid, I would charge them for my power and my blade, be unreliable in combat depending on my mood.
Eventually, the Summoners stopped arriving...the few who did and actually adhered to my extorsionist fee's gained my respect for their stubborn nature, that was until that fool Lord Ohalland thought that by kidnapping my Fayth stone and hiding it would automatically mean that the Pilgrimages would cease. He failed to realize that Summoners had more or less abandoned me anyway and that his efforts where futile...but then again. Ohalland had lost his grip on his sanity at the sacrifice of his guardian to become the final Aeon, and in his mind his actions probably made perfect sense before he went and confronted Sin...And so...I wait...I wait without hope that I shall ever find peace...that I will ever be reunited with my beautiful, silly charge, my light and my love, the reason I became what I now am...I shall never run my hands through her perpetually tangled hair, I will never laugh myself hoarse at her clumsiness, nor smile at her goodness, nor feel my heart melt at the sight of her smile, her nose scrunched up, her blue eyes sparkling... How I wish to join her on the far plane!
And so, I do not dream of Zanarkand as the others do...I pray for the Child of Dreams also, but do not expect his arrival. I dream of you, my love. I live in our memories, and grow emptier and emptier by the day. Still...perhaps one day...My dream will end...I am Yojimbo...the destroyer, the merciless...the eternal...