By Farli
Summary: At what price, vengeance?
Author's Notes:
Done for FFX500's week #13 challenge: "the moon". All feedback welcome, constructive criticism craved!
FFX Spoilers: Set pre-game time. Heavy duty character/plot spoilers for Final Fantasy X. You have been warned.
Date: 25/02/2004
Length: 500 words
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Silent footprints stalked effortlessly across stone rubble, deathly still as only the Unsent could, accompanied only by the lilting jangle of thin bracelets and anklets, black as the night overhead. The traditional swathe of pyreflies did not cloak her, instead preferring to lurk on the borders as Zanarkand's monarch emerged from her lair.
A rare occurrence on any occasion, let alone when there were no summoners yet close enough to the ruinous graveyard of machina and stone. Not that it would take the silver haired wraith currently making her way to the highest point in the city long to prepare for the necessary rituals if, when someone arrived.
It had been...What, four years since the last summoner had sought the Final Aeon? It was hard to grasp time's measure when you had lived a thousand turnings of the world, deep within the Chambers that were both trail and tomb.
Tilting her face skywards, to where the stars dotted the sky behind the translucent rainbow veil, a light wave of memory within fingertip's reach, porcelain skin reflected the livid shadows of green and violet, gold eyes blinking unseeingly past the low level clouds to where the stars hung low in the sky.
And the dark circle of the moon was suspended like a black blight imbedded into the midnight cloak, with not even a sliver of light visible in a thin crescent. No silver blade pressed to slice across its throat and let the moon's blood bleed free and Flow. Just a hole, a black sphere set in the sky, denied the sun's light thanks to Spira's shadow.
Yunalesca could not quite contain the fleetest of smirks that flickered across her features. 'Ah, Father, who art Sin, damned be thy name…'
Zaon had been her sun, and she his moon, pale beauty reflecting back his glory – and such glory! Clad in his gold armour, winged helm and plated guards, he had been a force unrivalled on the battlefields, literally blinding the enemy forces with his sheer presence. Light had been realised in full when he had become her aeon, her hope.
And her heart, dead, cold, dusted thing that it was, constricted painfully. And now, he was gone while she remained, bond torn asunder, hope snuffed for good.
Bitter mirth filtered from the Dome's ragged rooftop remains. Their bond had not been true enough to withstand her father's thirst for vengeance, even if it had started the beginning of the end, the spiral to entrap Spira forever.
For the moon, fickle woman that she was, could not truly end the life of the parent she had adored so dearly, costing her that precious light that brought her hope.
Moonlight was a poor reflection of sun's rays. A false light. Like the false hope she bestowed the masses.
For if she, Yunalesca, the First High Summoner must suffer, denied hope for the rest of all time, then so be it.
And all of Spira along with her.
'Zaon…Forgive me.'