Where the Shadows Die
Andrea Christoph


"Another one."

Inclining his head toward Rikku, Auron raised an inquisitive eyebrow and murmured, "Another what?"

"Hopeless one." There was a palpable sadness to her expression, as she stared in dismay at the being plummeting from the edge of the platform of suspended granite high above them. There wasn't even a scream. Only a form tumbling end over end, limp as a doll right up to the point of impact a thousand feet below.

In spite of himself, Auron flinched as the person falling descended into the cloud of vapour near the falls. Never a pleasant death to witness, and with what they had to look forward to...

"It's hardly fair, is it?"

"What's that?"

"How there were never any warnings about...this." Rikku gestured around them, at their surroundings. Stone as far as they could see, a cold breeze like glass on their bare shoulders. The never ending thirst and hunger- and, somehow, a wall to bar them from the paradise they'd expected entrance to throughout their lives.

"I suppose that's what makes it a punishment," Auron said, getting to his feet. "If there are no warnings, then there is no way to repent and escape what should rightfully come to you."

"There should at least be reasons." Rikku took Auron's proffered hand and rose as well, bundling herself into the billowing sleeve of Auron's jacket as usual. Their daily walks were hardly pleasant, but it beat an eternity of insanity. Eternity. She could scream at the thought.

Auron nodded. "You are right. Like any fair trial, there should be evidence."

"But I suppose the gods were never really fair, were they?"

"...no."

They carried on in silence for some time, walking the edge of the wall that kept them separated from the place that their companions had no doubt all gone after death. Sometimes it seemed as if they could hear them, laughing as they so often had in life. Rikku imagined it was due more in part to hope- that, at the least, if she were doomed to an afterlife of suffering, her family would still be happy. She'd never doubted that Yuna would reach the Farplane, really. Summoners and the golden ticket. It seemed there was no discrimination for those who refused their duty and those who carried it out to the grisly end.

Ghosts of their lives strode past, happy memories just out of reach that taunted and tormented them. At least the presence was rare. Auron could take no more reminders of his life. Or lack thereof, in fact. The humour of that had died out long ago.

"How old are we now?" Rikku asked abruptly, pausing in their walk to observe an image of herself, laughing, seated on the cliffs of Mi'ihen and staring out over the water. She smiled briefly at it, blinked away the tears.

Auron's fist curled tightly. He knew why he'd ended up in such a Yevon-forsaken place. Those who avoided death were only seen as deserving it more, no matter their reasons. He'd known that the instant he'd resisted his passing and continued on, perpetually twenty-five. Never having had a family, a home. He'd given it up willingly.

But Rikku...she had deserved none of what they were faced with every day. She'd lived a full life, helping others and doing her duty and in the end, none of this had left fulfilled. He remembered watching, horrified, as she herself was a 'hopeless one'. As she dove forward off the stone platform above and fell for what seemed to be hours. No screams, no shouts, not even regret. Her grief had torn her apart. It was hardly enough of a reason for her to be doomed to such horror as what they faced each day. But in the end, she had gotten her wish- they had been together again.

"You're somewhere in the seventies." Auron managed a smile. "I'm somewhere in the hundreds."

"You always were an old man." She grinned at him, her face as shining and bright as it had been in life. But he could see past the curtain. He could see the pain. "At least your memory isn't affected, I suppose?"

"I'm guessing." He drew her close as the breeze rose up, more fierce than before. Rikku's eyes closed tightly and she fought to ignore it, clinging desperately to Auron's chest. It was like she was falling again. Falling always.

"We're both falling," he murmured as if to read her mind, his own eyes closed, bent over as he held her close. "We're both falling, dear one, and all I can see is you."