DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Final Fantasy property and am not affiliated with Squaresoft, Ltd. in any way. 'Tis but an innocent adaptation of their great game into prose, not for profit, yadda yadda ya. I've taken the liberty of modifying certain aspects of the gameplay (like spheres and potions) to add a greater sense of realism; I've also added scenes not seen in the game that I feel will help flesh out the story, though I have in no way changed a character's past or their personality. To give credit where credit is due, I was inspired to write this after reading the other, currently incomplete, novelized form of FFX (by AffluentHeartache). I totally respect their work, and wish to add my own perspective on the game's story. If you don't like mine, read theirs! ~Cappy
Zanarkand. The metropolis covered the landscape for miles; towering buildings of sleek construction gave homage to ancient architects with supports carved into masculine torsos. Banners flickered in the cool night air, or perhaps it was the warm exuberance of the crowds below that caused them to snap cheerily. The black dome of sky capped the city without sign of clouds; it would be a clear night for the memorial blitzball tournament!
Tidus stepped out of his home on the waterfront, away from his mother's sad eyes into the welcoming embrace of his fans. The copper-skinned youth smiled and waved, only partly enjoying the admiration. His mother was silent as he'd said for the last time that he would be playing in the game that night; there was no reason for him to reassert himself for she'd long since given up arguing with her fiercely independent son. Tidus pushed away the dreary thoughts that would bring him down and entered the crowd outside his door.
"Can you sign this?" a small boy asked of him, thrusting a blitzball into his face. His companions' eyes were wide as they shuffled nervously, awaiting their turn.
"No prob," Tidus assured him and scribbled his signature, hardly readable anymore, onto the ball's leathery surface. In all honesty, Tidus didn't want to have to deal with signatures right now. He would've barreled through straight after signing the boys' blitzballs if not for two teenage girls that stepped determinedly in his way.
The fair-skinned girl made Tidus sweat a little. She wore a high-fitting pink sweater and extraordinarily low shorts. She demurely offered him her own blitzball, positioning it in his hands right where she wanted the autograph, and he signed it with one eye on her face. She was attractive, and not just because most of her skin was showing: her face was round and sweet, brown locks of hair cut stylishly around her face. There was something oddly warm about her, but her friend interrupted the thought with a raspy good luck.
"Nothing to worry about," Tidus said confidently as he scrawled one more autograph. Tidus surveyed her as well. The dress was a blue design, tight-fitting to the extreme and with a tiny hat to match. Fiery red hair framed a face too dark for the color to be natural. These were the kinds of girls that populated Zanarkand. Followers and dolls. But Tidus grinned at her anyway, bringing a smile to her face, and said, "If I score a goal….I'll do this!"
He raised his hands high in the air. "That will mean it was for you, okay?" They giggled behind their hands and nodded eagerly.
"What seat?"
"East Block in the front row!"
"Fifth from the right!"
Tidus nodded. "Got it!" The brown-haired girl blushed fiercely and the dark-skinned one's eyes lighted up.
Finally the crowd drew him away from the girls and into its writhing center. A small boy balanced his ball on his nose, hoping to impress Tidus with his skills. Tidus shrugged and said, "Well, gotta go! Cheer for me!" hoping that would release him, but knowing it would never work.
A whispered "…two, three!" brought all three small boys together in unison: "Teach us how to blitz!"
Tidus grinned down at them. "I got a game to play!"
The boys, unwilling to back down, "Then teach us after!"
"Maybe tonight…um…well." Did he ever want to be leaving now!
A sibilant voice caused Tidus to turn. A strange child in a concealing purple hood and vest stood away from the gathering. No face could be discerned.
"You can't tonight."
Tidus, confused, corrected himself before he could consciously register that the child had no business telling him what he did or didn't have time for. Strangely, no one else seemed to have noticed his pause.
"I mean…tomorrow!"
"Promise?" came in an agonizing, whining tone.
"Promise!" he replied cheerily, though inside he roiled with the emotions of the day. Finally the crowd broke loose and Tidus was given warm farewell and many good tidings for the game.
Quiet. Time to think. To relax. Tidus walked unhurriedly to
the stadium, watching the few people on the highway who'd either not been able
to buy a ticket or were thrifty enough to watch the game on the billboard size
viewscreens built into several buildings along the road. He whistled to himself
as he went, carefully mentally prepping himself for the tournament. His
mother's voice intervened, however, and he was forced to replay his last real
conversation with her.
"Tidus, I want you to do well.
Don't think you have to live up to your father's standard."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, I've heard the broadcasts about the game. Everyone's talking about you and comparing you to your father. I know how that's…affected you in the past, and this is a tournament in his honor after all."
"Mom, my old man has nothing to do with this. I play to win, that's all." His use of the rude moniker instead of "Dad" made her wince slightly, and he'd seen it. Somewhat like how Jecht never called Tidus by his name, but "kid." She'd left it at that, and he'd beaten himself up for making her sad like his old man had always done.
As if on cue, film of Jecht began to play on the nearest viewscreen. Tidus looked up at it for a long moment, narrowed his eyes, and dashed quickly past it. From hidden speakers a game announcer waxed eloquent, much to Tidus' ire:
I was in a coffee shop, running away from home when I heard the news. Our hero, Jecht, gone. Vanished into thin air!
Yeah well, he wasn't really there to begin with.
My dad must have been his biggest fan. I knew how sad he'd be. Heck we all were that day.
Except for me.
"Zanar," I says to myself, "What are you thinking?" I went straight home. We sat up talking 'bout Jecht all night.
Amazing how my father brings other families together, but can't do the same for his own.
My dad and I never talked so much. Whoa…didn't mean to reminisce there folks. Anyway…
Yes, anyway.
Tidus quickly left the range of the speakers and came up on the gate to the stadium behind a large group of excited fans. This time he didn't stop to chat or sign autographs, but barreled quickly through.
The Zanarkand Abes' locker room was very full. Everyone brightened when they saw Tidus enter. A round of applause went up, and he waved it down modestly, though he enjoyed every minute of it. Koru, the husky fellow who played goalie, pumped his fist in the air and declared, "Give us a speech, captain!"
"You want a speech, huh? Well…" Tidus considered. "How about…we're undefeated this season, and we're going to trash the Duggles! Show them how the Abes play!"
"Short and sweet, boss, that's how we like it!" And everyone echoed it with a roar of approval.
Tidus relaxed as he sat against the outer ridge of the dome frame. Water trickled in the trough beneath him. Eyes closed, he ignored the frenzied screams and cheers of the sold-out stadium. His mind was perfectly in order, his body attuned to the rhythm of his steady heart. All his troubles were placed aside in a corner of his brain. Suddenly, a spastic burst of electricity from the center of the stadium bathed him in raging blue light, and a sphere of water expanded outward to fill the dome. Tidus stood up and stepped onto his starting platform.
Auron straddled a narrow stone outcropping of one of Zanarkand's tallest buildings. The air this high was chill and breezy, and it whipped his grey-streaked, ragged hair. He surveyed the strangely silent streets of the metropolis with a grim left eye hidden behind dark glasses. The other one was closed permanently. Across the wind came the sounds of the blitzball tournament miles distant in the bay.
The square-jawed man closed his eye and breathed deeply. How good it felt to be in Zanarkand. It reminded him of Jecht. The city was like the dead man in a way. Proud and strong. Confident in itself, its technology.
Auron waited.
Tidus knew the C-South team was good, excellent even, but now, actually playing against them, he really appreciated their talent. They played hard… but his team played harder. His lithe body moved swiftly through the water. His clothing, while visually bulky and seemingly out of place in an underwater environment, was made of light, porous materials that adapted well to his fluid movements. A Duggles player attempted to wrest the ball from him but he broke free and passed it to his teammate. He smiled as he realized that this game was in the bag.
Auron could smell the change in the air as the massive tor of water rippled through the sea, a monstrous tidal wave of death. He shifted carefully to face it as a new wind rose up, blasting him this time with the salty smells of ocean and the fouler, yellow odor of Sin.
The aged warrior raised a largish flask filled with alcohol to the now-hemisphere-shaped mass in a peculiar salute. The mass breached the coastline, continuing both forward and skyward, in an increasingly spherical shape. Buildings bent and twisted under a new gravitational pull and were consumed.
Tidus was enjoying himself thoroughly as goal after goal widened the gap between the Abes and the Duggles. The crowd's ecstatic calls drove him to even further heights of arrogant showmanship. He threw one opponent out of the dome in a gash of water that quickly sealed. After so many points scored, and so quickly, Tidus had quickly forgotten about the two teenage fans he'd promised to acknowledge.
In a stunning display of athleticism and style, Tidus propelled himself out of the top of the water dome after the ball in a slow arc that brought him upside down. His trademark Sphere Shot. Tidus could see over the top of the blitzball stadium. He could see the city.
And the sky.
The monstrous aquatic mass was totally risen in the air, wholly sphere-shaped, and moving across the city with devastating effect. Pillars, statues, banners, and bricks flew from their foundations with gut-wrenching ease to be cast into the tornado grip of the sphere. Sirens wailed too late and people's applause wavered and turned into apprehensive screams. The air itself seemed to warp, and the ground shook as the first blasts of energy pelted Zanarkand. The sphere undulated and churned as each beam bore through its shell.
Time seemed to slow, but Tidus continued falling. The blitzball dome cracked and split, and Tidus was making a freefall into nothingness. His heart leapt into his throat and his eyes teared up.
I'm going to die.
An outstretched hand struck the crumbled ledge of one of the dome's supports, and Tidus shouted out in pain and surprise as he grabbed hold. His gloved and slick fingers scrabbled for purchase but the rock broke anyway, and Tidus tumbled through the air.
I really am going to die.
Auron made his way calmly before the tidal wave of destruction through the grandiose streets of Zanarkand toward the blitzball stadium. People fled past him in pockets of confused panic. The spectacle of him would have been maddeningly ironic if anyone had stopped to notice it. His measured pace, bland expression, katana, and foreign red robes marked him out like a sore thumb.
He wondered idly if Tidus had survived, but the thought was useless, as he was sure that the boy had. He was Jecht's blood after all.
And there he was stumbling out of the ruins, brushing the grit and dirt from his blonde hair. Instead of meeting his demise on hard concrete he'd plunged into the flooded base of the stadium, and floated unconscious through a gap in the wall. Weak on his feet, Tidus staggered down what remained of the stadium's front staircase. His thoughts whirled, chief amongst them of his mother. Where was she? Was she okay? His second thought was of his discomfort; he was not only drenched but splattered with mud and coated in dust. Then he saw Auron standing further down the street.
"Auron! What are you doing here?"
"I was waiting for you," came the deadpan reply. Tidus shook his head in amazement.
"What are you talking about?" Auron had been waiting for him, here, now? When Zanarkand fell about them in desolation and the water monster still hovered in the sky?
Auron made no response but started walking quickly toward the highway, in the direction Tidus had originally come to the stadium from. The teenage boy dashed after him, but was left behind in the growing stream of people. He darted and weaved, but all sign of Auron was lost. Fear and a dark depression clouded Tidus' mind as Zanarkand's survivors pushed past him.
"It begins. Don't cry."
Tidus whirled to find the child in the purple garments standing behind him. A vein of bewilderment streaked his emotions then. Everything had frozen. People were locked mid-stride. For a moment everything was utterly silent.
A wrenching in his gut, and then the natural flow returned; the child-like being gone. Tidus was for a second disoriented by the abruptness of it, and he turned around. "What the…?"
Auron suddenly appeared in the distance. His face was cold and unyielding behind the dark glasses. He locked eyes with Tidus and kept walking.
"Hey! Wait! Hey, not this way!" They were going toward the destruction!
Tidus made a quick sprint to catch up, and finally did, though he had to pause and take a gulp of air. The adrenaline of the game was utterly spent on this catastrophe. Tidus wanted most to just crawl into bed and go to sleep for a long, long time.
"Look!" Auron commanded in an unusually harsh, though nonetheless stern voice. Tidus looked.
"We called it 'Sin'."
"Sin?"
The ball of water glittered with the light of the moon high in the ether. Brown smoke wreathed the air in front of it. It's impersonal, featureless form, though something inside the water could almost be distinguished, gave it a fearsome appearance indeed.
A shriek cut the air and the highway buckled drunkenly as a monster ejected from Sin crashed into the side of an adjacent skyscraper. Tidus' mouth went dry at the sight of its thrashing tail. Auron watched patiently, though his gloved hand rested atop his sword. The beast was obviously in its death throes. It quivered spasmodically one last time, and Tidus lowered his eyes, but a clipping sound in the air caused him to stare in fright as the scales from its tail pelted the concrete around them. With this unfortunately more immediate perspective, Tidus observed that the scales were more pod-shaped.
Auron wrenched the boy back a pace as two rows of the pods shuddered and unfolded into metallic-colored insectoids. The warrior revealed from beneath his voluminous robe a sword and thrust it at Tidus. He watched as the boy's blue eyes sparkled with confusion.
"Take it," he insisted. "A gift from Jecht."
A cloudy recognition lit Tidus' face and he grasped the leather-bound hilt, and promptly staggered over from the weight of the blade. "My old man?" Auron grinned wryly behind his high collar.
"I hope you know how to use it," he responded with not a little sarcasm. The boy will learn or die, he thought grimly.
The insects trotted forward on pincer legs. A few revealed glossy wings. Tidus' heart danced nervously. Blood pulsed in his temples, down his arms, through his legs to his feet. For a body practiced in long intervals underwater without breath, he couldn't seem to get enough oxygen now. Unsure of himself and unused to the new extension of his arms, Tidus darted forward and slashed wildly. He cut only air, and then fell to the ground on his tailbone.
Damn! Tidus cursed inwardly in disgust. He strove to his feet and regained his footing. Sweat streaked his forehead and evaporated off his arms, leaving gooseflesh in its wake. Musclework isn't my business. What am I doing with a sword? Why can't we just run?
Auron maintained his composure as he watched Tidus' unsuccessful attempt at an attack. He noticed the boy's determined and distraught expression and it reminded him of Jecht too. Like father, like son. But will Tidus prove to be as adept a swordsman? He must learn.
"Auron," Tidus gasped, "what are they?"
The gray warrior sneered at the monsters. His left arm, normally held inside his red coat due to a weakening injury from long ago, slipped out of its sheath and joined his right on the hilt of his katana. Tidus gazed in awe as the older man raised his sword.
"They're sinscale. Despicable pests! These ones don't matter. We cut through!"
Whatever you say, Tidus thought disparagingly. He'd rather get the hell out of there, but watching Auron's deft slashes rearrange the sinscales brought a strange calm over him. His heartbeat slowed and the glittering sword in his hands felt warm. The feeling was akin to that of the hour before a blitzball game, when Tidus and the rest of the Abes drilled and prepped. Gathering courage, he rushed forward and his blue blade sliced the sinscale before him.
Auron nodded approvingly. The boy learned quickly.
They carved a gap in the sinscales and pods finally and rushed through and past them. Tidus' lungs opened finally and he breathed with relief. No more monsters. His first endeavor in the art of swordsmanship had been invigorating, but had not left him wanting more. The familiar clip in the air erased all assurances of safety, however, and more pods rained down, presumably from another tentacle-creature. A large group of sinscales were soon advancing. Tidus groaned, but Auron's gravelly voice promised a quick end to this battle.
"Don't bother going after all of them. Cut the ones that matter and run!"
The two swordsmen excised strategic holes in the glittering mass, running through each one to greet the next opponents. Once, as Tidus made a slash, the sinscale's large pincer scraped his arm. He bit his lip in pain as he watched the blood mingle with the now-dry mud and dust already all over him. Auron shoved a carafe filled with pink liquid into his hand.
"Spread it on the wound. It will speed healing and give you strength."
Tidus did so while Auron finished off the last enemies. The potion worked quickly. Tidus dashed after the warrior through a shower of rainbow lights. He turned to watch as they floated and slowly dissipated in the air. Looking behind him he realized that all of the sinscales they'd killed had disappeared.
"Come!" Auron called, and Tidus left that train of thought.
Around a bend in the semi-destroyed highway was the towering form of a second Sinspawn that blocked their path. Tidus roared in frustration and shook a fist at the phosphorescent creature. "Get out of my town!" In reply the Sinspawn spit out several sinscales that quickly flanked their progenitor.
"Some can't wait to die," Auron intoned. The rugged man held his blade out before himself vertically and swept it around to give himself extra forward propulsion as he jumped into the air. He concentrated his thoughts and felt the familiar surge of energy grow and spread hotly through his body. As he landed and slammed the blade through the concrete, a fiery glow enveloped him and spread outwards to engulf the sinscales. They quickly withered and dissipated.
Tidus' jaw dropped. He'd never witnessed a display of such raw power before. And as Auron retreated, the tow-headed youth saw the katana in perfect condition but for the smears of sinscale blood.
A wave of pure nausea knocked into him. His head spun and his vision blurred slightly. Looking over at his comrade-in-arms, he saw that he was similarly affected. A moment of recovery, and Auron looked back, wincing.
"Demi magic. It's… debilitating, but not… very strong. We should be fine. Now…let's see what you can do. Focus yourself… and put it into one spot."
Tidus had no idea how to begin focusing himself, but he found that it had already happened to an extent. Wildness thrummed under his skin, and he began to feel excited. Without consciously deciding to do so he dashed forward and began a series of frenzied but controlled thrusts that would normally have been much too difficult for an amateur to accomplish. Auron looked on in satisfaction. He will do well, he thought.
A very smug Tidus returned to a safe distance. This isn't so hard after all.
The Sinspawn performed a second wave of Demi, and now Tidus had a splitting headache. He felt drained from his last assault, and knew it would be awhile before he could perform it again. Auron handed him several potions and instructed him to use them only when he really needed them, and that they could also be drunk to restore strength. Tidus chose to save them for a few rounds.
The battle lasted only a few minutes more. Every time one of them hacked off a tentacle, it faded into a rainbow phantom. Eventually all of them were gone and the monster's trunk lost its phosphorescence; though it did not disappear like the rest of it. Tidus wondered at the anomaly. Auron provided a curt explanation. "This part of the Ammes was only a shell. The fiend inside is gone."
The weary men plodded on, both finally hopeful that perhaps all the danger had passed. A peculiar reek filled the air, the combination of Sin, smoke, and the salty sea water. They were approaching Tidus' home, and he desperately wanted to go there to make sure his mother had escaped.
The static buzz of a viewscreen grabbed his attention. Jecht's face smiled smugly down at him and laughed good-naturedly, as if to say I would have high-tailed it out of there. So should you.
"What are you laughing at old man?" Tidus demanded of the crackling image. Auron stopped and looked at the boy's dark face. Tidus' blue eyes met Auron's brown one. "Auron, let's get out of here."
"We're expected." His own expectant gaze put Tidus on pause.
"Huh?" Auron turned and began to run. Tidus stared after him in irritation. "Gimme a break, man!"
Several more sinscales swarmed the bridge. They're endless, he thought. Auron and Tidus killed half a dozen before they realized the situation was hopeless. For every one dead a second took its place. Auron's swift eye appraised the environment for aid. An abandoned tanker lay half off the bridge. He pointed at it.
"That, knock it down."
Tidus didn't get it. "What?"
"Trust me. You'll see." He demonstrated his intentions by slicing through the paneling of the machine and damaging the wiring. Blue sparks flew. Tidus caught on finally and followed up Auron's example with a slash of his own. The tanker spit electricity. Tidus became preoccupied with the destruction of the machine, however, and did not hear Auron's warning cry when one of the sinscales spit piercing spines at him.
Tidus gritted his teeth but did not cry out, and picked the small-yet-stinging needles out of his skin and clothes. The wounds burned. He hoped a potion would help, and fortunately it did. As soon as it was applied the bleeding slowed and the burning faded into a slight aching sensation. Tidus distinctly hated the injury factor of battle.
Auron swung his sword at the tanker again and moved away speedily as the machine coughed one last time and exploded. A flash of brilliant light and the sinscales were toast. The wreckage tumbled off the bridge and smashed into the lower supports of the building with the viewscreen.
The elder man gave Tidus a gruff shove and commanded, "Go!" In the heat of extended battle Tidus had forgotten that Sin was still floating in the heavens like a wrathful god. Zanarkand still crumbled or was alternately sucked into the monster's orifice. The water sphere had dilated and molded itself into a swirling vortex. Pieces of scaffolding and chunks of pavement broke away and were consumed. Auron and Tidus started to run; the road ahead was fissured.
Auron made the leap before it got too high, but Tidus hesitated half a second too long. He made a desperate jump and just managed to grab hold of the jagged lip of the pavement. Auron looked down at him expressionlessly from behind his sunglasses. Tidus, bewildered at the man's inaction, pleaded his name. "Auron!"
The warrior stepped toward him much too slowly for Tidus' tastes. "Auron!" he cried.
Auron looked over his shoulder at Sin's vortex. Now the fragment of highway that Tidus dangled from hazardously was rising in the air towards its maw-like center. He questioned it as if it were alive. "You are sure?"
Tidus felt as though his arms were being ripped from their sockets. He wanted to scream as his fingers lost their grip. Suddenly Auron snagged him by the front of his yellow shirt and lifted him bodily.
"This is it. This is your story."
My story? What?
"It all begins here."
Sin was now nearly upon them. Auron started to stretch as if he was miles tall, contorted until his head disappeared and then his body and eventually Tidus started feeling strange himself. A bright light engulfed him and he finally found the wind to emit a single yell as he was taken away from his Zanarkand forever.
