Summary:
AU. Auron is a deep, complex person - intelligent, educated - MUCH more than what we saw in FFX. Great romance, adventure, fantasy. Complete.
This could have been Auron's life had he lived. Think of how the people would begin to actually live, beginning to rebuild their land after having been in bondage for so many centuries. The beginning of industry, how their learning expanded. But most of all, what would be the legacy that Auron would leave behind.
My very first attempt at writing fanfic. I think you'll see my learning curve as the story progresses. I do hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you so much for reading my first work. I'd love to know what you think if you have a moment.
Okay, here we go! Hope you enjoy it!
A LEGEND'S JOURNEY
Chapter 1
Tanaka stood to stretch and ease the muscles in his back that were complaining from the long hours he spent bending over his hot work at the forge before him. He glanced across the busy, crowded scene in the enormous square. Vendors in brightly colored tents and stalls selling their wares, a cacophony of voices and sounds punctuated by shrill laughter of children. A large crowd today. That's good.
A bit of bright red caught his eye on the far side of the square. Tanaka took in the distant figure of a very tall, strongly built man quietly observing the scene from the sidelines like a large, silent cat, taking in every detail with one sweep of his eyes. Face partially hidden by a high collar, eyes covered by dark glasses, he missed nothing. The massive blade he carried was terrifying in itself.
No one knew why he had come here though they were all glad that he had. No mischief was afoot when this man was around. A quiet, powerful aura seemed to radiate from him and Tanaka had no doubt that one glance from those steely dark eyes could freeze the heart of the most brazen fiend. Certainly no mere mortal could stand before it! He chuckled softly to himself, thankful that he himself had never experienced such a look.
Tanaka had noted that the man never seemed to hurry, always moving at a steady sedate pace, rarely speaking, but always softly and courteously when he did. As far as he knew, no one knew anything about this mysterious, intimidating man, other than the great stories of his famous pilgrimages, adventures and his unending courage. But they did know that he was to be totally trusted in all matters. He truly was a legend – the Legendary Warrior and Guardian of Spira.
Sighing, Tanaka tore himself from his reverie and turned back to finish his work. It was nearing the end of the day and he wanted to finish this order so he could go return to his home, cleanse himself of the day's sweat and grime and spent the evening with Mayla. A smile found his mouth as he thought of that dear woman whom he had married so many happy years ago. "Tanaka," he told himself, "You are one lucky man!"
He took one last look at the red-garbed figure and wondered to himself, 'How has he lived all these years without someone to love as I have loved Mayla? That would be a terribly lonely way to exist.'
He sighed, somewhat irritated with himself. Even in the midst of so many people, he was alone. He growled to himself, 'You should be used to it by now!'
Having lost his parents when he was very young, he was raised by Warrior Monks in an austere environment in Bevelle, eventually joining their order for a time when he was old enough. It was they who had clothed him, fed him, sheltered him, educated him and taught him the way of a Warrior. It was they who had instilled in him the rigid codes of conduct that had served him all his life.
He had done well in his nearly forty years, having seen much, experienced much, had helped many and had so painfully lost those few he had allowed himself to care about. He had fought many battles and his body bore the scars to prove it. There were streaks of silver at the temples and in the center front of his black hair that one wouldn't expect in a man still in his thirties. His was a life lived hard.
He was a ronin, technically a Guardian without a master but, in truth, his conscience was his master. He usually wore his red robe in the tradition of the ancient Samurai warriors in a land lost in the mists of time and memory: the off-sword arm not in the sleeve, but resting within the front bodice of the great garment. The message was 'I will avoid a fight if I can, but won't hesitate if necessary.'
He was truly close to no one except Kimahri, who understood because he himself had lived his noble life alone, serving others. 'Two lonely old warriors,' he snorted. He mentally rolled his eyes at himself. "Hmph!"
He was still getting accustomed to seeing with two eyes again. Old Julan, the Healer, had finally convinced the stubborn man to allow him to work on the damaged right lid, sealed for so many years by the scar that sliced his face from forehead to cheek. Julan had believed that the eye itself was undamaged and the big man had to admit that the thought of seeing 'normally' again intrigued him. So he finally relented and agreed to let the old man try. No loss in the trying.
It had taken many long sessions, but the old man's skillful fingers and potions had worked their magic and the lid gradually regained function, though there was still a slight droop at the outer corner.
'Well, at least some good has come of this time spent here,' he grumbled to himself.
Many months had passed since he arrived in this far-western part of Spira and he still didn't really know why he was here. He had just felt a strong compulsion within himself to be here and, since Sin had finally been defeated, he was certainly not needed elsewhere. But he was beginning to feel impatient and bored with the inaction and waiting, especially since he didn't know what he was waiting for.
Another growl, another scowl. Anyone witnessing the expression on his face would have scurried away. The man could truly put cold fear into the heart of another with just one glance. He was not to be trifled with under any circumstances!
He leaned back against a wall in the shade and just watched the activity before him. Nan was having a good laugh with a customer at her food stand. Harlan, the tailor, was talking with a man, but then, Harlan was always talking to someone. Tanaka was working on something at his forge, concentration and sweat on his weathered face.
There were probably seventy-five or more tents and stalls in the square. Good, hard-working people going about their daily business. Everything peaceful and in order; it would remain so as long as he was in the vicinity.
Another sigh. He thought about going to the quarters he had secured for himself here, but realized that he needed to make some purchases if he was going to have an evening meal. He headed towards Nan's tent, made his selections and glanced towards what he called his quarters as he waited for Nan to tally up the bill.
From the square, only a very high wall and the outer door of a compound that was roughly a hundred fifty feet per side was visible. Through the outer door, a path crossed a neat green expanse of grass and led to the door to a small, adobe-style house. It suited his purposes just fine. It was quiet within the walls and he was undisturbed.
The expanse of grass from the front continued down the length of the right side of the house and across the back, creating a wide, quiet, pleasant space shaded by trees, accented by many flowers which perfumed the air.
Beyond the right side wall was a small public street that opened onto the square but the great height of the thick walls that surrounded the villa mostly kept sound at bay.
The left side of the house abutted the left side wall. The adjacent property on the other side of that wall was a very large, low building used as a storage warehouse which meant few people in or out and therefore quiet.
Through the door of the villa itself was a large, comfortable living area beyond which was a spacious kitchen with ample room for an eating table. A partial wall about five feet high separated the two interior areas. A door at the far end of the kitchen opened onto the back lawn.
To the left of the living area and kitchen was a hallway that led to two bedrooms separated by a sizable bathroom. The larger of the bedrooms was his sleeping space, the smaller one served as a private office, though he had little need of it.
Many windows let in sunlight and soft breezes. It was a very pleasant, open and airy villa.
Also beyond the living area, stairs, adjacent to and open to the kitchen, led to a rooftop garden where a previous owner had created a most pleasant setting which included a smooth tile floor, a small bubbling fountain, many huge pots of small trees and colorful flowers, two large comfortable benches, and most importantly, plenty of room for his daily workouts. The high walls provided complete privacy.
The moderate climate made for comfortable days with a steady light breeze and cooler nights which made a light blanket feel good on one's bed.
Yes, it suited him perfectly.
As he turned to leave Nan's tent, he noticed a sudden commotion at the edge of the square by the front wall of the villa. Two Ronso, Kimahri and Alsa, were leaning down looking at something that seemed to be crumpled there on the ground; more and more citizens were being drawn to the spot, as well.
A sound that could have been a growl emanated from his throat as he swiftly moved to investigate.
She felt like she had been slammed to the ground after a very long fall. It hurt. The first thing that came to her confused, dazed mind was noise. Lots of noise. Dust. Bright sun that stabbed her eyes. She tried to catch her breath but was unable to. She again tried to open her eyes but she couldn't really focus. 'Where...'
As her vision faded in and out, she became aware of two enormous, horrifying blue monsters bending over her, making some sort of growling sounds. Her shocked eyes saw teeth, huge teeth! And claws! There was an impossibly big yellow chicken-like thing peering down at her with beady black eyes, it's rider staring at her with open mouth. Utter terror consumed her!
She couldn't get enough breath to scream, her legs refused to move. In her last few seconds of consciousness, she sensed something red swirl in front of her. She knew she was going to die.
Then she was consumed in the black mindlessness of utter terror and shock.
The two Ronso seemed relieved at his appearance as they had no idea what to make of this apparition that suddenly appeared before them.
"Kimahri happy to see friend. Lady just appeared."
The man in red glanced at his friend, then down at the source of the attention. He knelt down before a young woman on her knees and leaning against the outside wall of the villa who was shaking violently, uncomprehending eyes wide open but seeing nothing. Her breath was ragged and shallow. It was obvious she had experienced a terribly severe, deep shock.
His eyes never left the girl, but in a calm, low voice he spoke to his big friend, "Kimahri, will you get Julan, please?"
A deep grunt answered him as the blue warrior left to find the old Healer.
He picked her up as one would a small child and she was all but enveloped in the folds of the scarlet coat he wore. The sounds she made were incomprehensible. As quietly and gently as he could, he spoke into her ear, "You're safe here. You are safe." He repeated it over and over as dark brown hair ruffled the side of his face. "You're safe here. You are safe."
The gathering crowd parted as he carried her away, murmuring to themselves. Whatever it was, they knew he was more than capable of taking care of it. He was a Guardian.
Carrying her inside the walls, then into the small house, still gently repeating over and over "You're safe here...You're safe", he laid her on the couch in the living room. Her dark blue eyes saw nothing. She was completely locked in her world of terror. He felt a chill pass through him. Sometimes people did not recover from this state.
Where is Julan?