The Summoner's Path
There they stood; the trio who had gone through so much, given up so much, to arrive at this moment. The Time of Sacrifice was come. Jecht had already made his Sacrifice. Now, it was Lord Braska's turn; and Auron's too, his Sacrifice given in a twice-broken heart. Braska was going to die, and Jecht's fate would be worse than death, far worse…
There wasn't even time to make a proper farewell; as if mere words could've helped anyway…
Sin was there now, ready for battle. So, Braska Summoned his Final Aeon, and Jecht…changed…right in front of Auron's eyes, becoming something far more, and far less, than human. Then, the Final Aeon hurled itself into the sky to meet Sin, and two monsters fought in the sky, and Auron could only try to drag Braska away, try to make a run for it before Sin was defeated…
"No, Auron," Braska was looking up at the battle overhead. "I always knew my death would be the price for defeating Sin."
"What of the price Jecht will pay?" Auron saw Braska flinch. They both knew Braska had the easier fate. Jecht would become Sin, and the whole cycle would begin all over again…
"Stay out of it, Auron," Braska commanded. "When he comes for me, just let it happen. I think he'll ignore you. I want you to-"
"I am your Guardian, my Lord!" Auron interrupted. "I can't stand idly by when your life is at stake!"
"Then, who will take Yuna to Besaid? Who will keep her safe? You promised to do that, my friend. Don't deny me my last hope."
Auron bowed his head, tears blurring his vision.
"Dear friend," Braska continued, laying gentle hands on the Guardian's shoulders. "Please, stand aside…"
What could Auron do, but obey that last request? It was the hardest thing he had ever done, taking those few, short steps backward; made all the harder by the look of gratitude in Lord Braska's eyes, and the simple, "Thank you," which were the Summoner's last words…
Sin had fallen, the ground shaking with the impact. The beast was dead, and something, a ball of light, fled the dead body, soaring up, into the Final Aeon. The Final Aeon wavered in the sky for a second, and then righted itself; and Auron dared to hope that Jecht had fought that thing off, whatever it was. Then, the Final Aeon drew its sword, and the Guardian knew all hope was lost.
Lord Braska stood there, arms spread wide, robes billowing in the wind…
Auron wanted to close his eyes, he wanted to look away. Most of all, he wanted to draw his katana, and hurl himself right into harm's path. But, Braska's last request held him still.
He watched as the Final Aeon bore down upon the unresisting target that was Lord Braska…
Auron jerked awake. For a brief moment, he didn't know where he was. Then, he remembered…
Zanarkand. Jecht's Zanarkand…
Lord Braska had died ten years ago, but the nightmares-usually the same ones every night-always felt so real…
Auron sat up, the sheets falling to his waist. The thing was, the nightmares were true. Ten years ago, one man had died, and the other had become Sin, and the third…
Auron often wondered why he didn't have more nightmares about Yunalesca. She had taken his hope, his right eye, and his life, in the end.
Maybe it's because what I suffered at her hands was largely a result of my own stupidity…
Now, here he was, an Unsent, living in a dream city, looking after a Dream. There couldn't be much that was stranger than that.
Oh, yeah…Sin talks to me sometimes…
One could always count upon Jecht to complicate things.
Auron tossed the sheets aside and dressed quickly. Then, he stepped out into the houseboat's hall. Tidus' bedroom was right across the hall, the door half-open. Jecht's son was asleep, sprawled face-down, snoring into his pillow. There was going to be a Blitzball game tonight, so Tidus would be sleeping late today.
It amazed Auron, how different from Jecht the boy was. Like his father, he was a truly gifted athlete, but he didn't seem to have the thirst for adulation his father did. Also, he was rather sentimental, and easily moved to tears. It was far easier to make him cry than to provoke anger.
All in all, Auron decided, that was a good thing. But, Jecht hadn't seen it that way. He had attacked those perceived weaknesses, taunting the boy, earning his son's hatred in return.
Auron sighed. One of Jecht's weaknesses-apart from alcohol-was that he simply didn't know how to express love. Love left the Blitzballer inarticulate, and fumbling in the dark. But, how could Auron explain that to a boy who had only heard his father's taunts?
Auron's nerved felt jangled, and his shoulder-the one with the deep scar, courtesy of Yunalesca-ached dully; a sure sign of impending foul weather. But, all the weather specialists were predicting sunny skies, and warm, clear nights.
Stepping outside, onto the deck, Auron looked around. It was barely dawn, the sky only just beginning to pale toward day, and the breeze on his skin was soft and gentle. He started his morning kata, hoping the workout would settle his nerves. But, half an hour later, he still had the feeling that doom was going to come upon the city. For some odd reason, he found himself remembering how he had come to Zanarkand, ten years ago…
A young man, freshly dead, and unaware that dead people weren't supposed to pace around like tigers in cages, was waiting, more than a little impatiently, on a deserted beach. Jecht had come to him in a dream, telling him to come here; so, here he was, pacing back and forth…
Eventually, the Final Aeon turned up, sembling into the form of the bare-chested Guardian that had, most improbably, become Auron's best friend.
"Ya look like hell," Jecht looked the younger Guardian over. "What possessed you to attack Yunalesca anyway? Where the hell did you park your brains?"
Auron shrugged. His head still hurt sometimes, and, when he woke up, he still tried to open both eyes.
"You're late," he finally said.
"I know, sorry," Jecht ran a hand through his messy hair. "You ready to go?"
"I think so…" Actually, the notion of riding Sin into Dream Zanarkand frightened Auron just a little. But, he was already dead, so what more did he have to lose?
Auron shivered at the recollection. Riding Sin hadn't been fun at all. But, now he wondered at the on-edge feeling still plaguing him. That last time he had felt like that was when Jecht had arrived to bring him here…
Are you nearby, Jecht?
Auron went back inside, scribbled a note, and left it on the kitchen counter, where Tidus would find it.
Tidus,
I will be out all day. Good luck, and play well.
Auron
That done, the Guardian went back outside, heading into Zanarkand.
The City that never sleeps…
The people who lived here said it with pride, but Auron knew that sad truth that lay at the heart of that saying. Even so, Zanarkand was an amazing city to live in. The machina were truly staggering to behold, both in their myriad functions, and the sheer number of them. There were machina for every occasion, for every want, or need…
So, this was the Zanarkand of myth; Zanarkand as it had been before the Fall, before Sin…
Auron continued walking; only stopping for a quick lunch at a cheap kiosk. Than, it was back to walking' letting his feet take him where they would. Finally, night began to fall, and Auron found himself near the ocean.
Jecht was near.
Sin was near.
Auron could feel it in his bones.
As night fell, he made his way to a high spar overlooking the ocean. The city was brightly lit now, especially the Stadium. The game would be on now, and Tidus would be doing his best to overshadow the legend of the father he detested so much.
And Auron…
He stood there, on the spar, watching as the water began to rise, as something, encased in a protective globe of water, emerged from the restless sea, hovering overhead. Auron lifted his jug of sake to his lips, watched as death and destruction came to pay a call upon Zanarkand.
It was time…
He turned back to the city.
Time to get the boy…
As he walked back into the city, he could feel gravity shift under his feet, saw water droplets from stepped-in puddles begin to drift upward. Auron began to feel a sense of urgency build within him. That was when all hell broke loose…
Missiles streaked out from the monster hovering overhead. Explosions rocked the area, screams, and the sound of falling rubble, filled the air. Auron ignored the sounds of death all around him. Only Tidus occupied his thoughts now.
People were fleeing the Blitzball Stadium by the thousands-fans and players alike-but there was no sign of Tidus. Then…
"Auron!" There Tidus was, breathless with excitement and fear. "What are you doing here?"
Good…Auron heaved a sigh of relief. He made it.
"I was waiting for you."
"What are you talking about?" Tidus demanded
But, Auron was already moving, heading off in the direction his instincts told him to take. He didn't look back to see if Tidus was following. Thus, he wasn't aware of Time stopping, didn't see a child with ancient eyes tell Tidus not to cry. He continued walking until he heard Tidus just behind him.
"Hey! Not this way!"
Auron had stopped, looking upward.
"Look," he commanded, nodding upward at the thing that was busy destroying Zanarkand. Tidus looked upward, at the hovering monstrosity, and Auron could see all the color leave the boy's face. He just stared upward, jaw dropping in purest amazement.
"We called it Sin," Auron explained.
"S-Sin?"
That was when Sin decided to drop a load of Fiends onto the burning city.
Auron grunted as he felt inside his D-Scabbard. Jecht's sword was in his hand. He handed it to the boy.
"Take it," he ordered. "A gift from Jecht."
"My old man?" Tidus held the sword awkwardly, almost dropped it. One of the Fiends hissed, and Tidus swung at it, missed, and fell on his behind. Auron shook his head at the boy's antics.
"I hope you know how to use it," he said. "But, these ones don't matter. We cut through and run."
He drew his own katana, suited actions to words.
Things got a little hairy after that, what with the city dying right under their feet, and all those Fiends. But, Auron always found a way to get them through. Until they came to the bridge…
"Hmm, this could be bad…"Auron mused. They were surrounded-Fiends in front, and behind-and he was looking around, searching for something, anything, that might help them out of this predicament.
"That!" he pointed at it. "Knock it down, Tidus!"
As he spoke, a Fiend rushed up, striking Auron hard, across the right shoulder. The force of the blow was strong enough to drive him to his knees.
"You okay, old man?"
"I'm fine, boy," Auron downed a potion. "Knock that machina down!"
"Right, boss!"
Tidus set to work, striking at the ruined machina whenever he had the chance, while Auron protected the boy as best he could. Finally, the machina exploded, taking the Fiends with it. Unfortunately, it also took most of the bridge along with it. Auron leaped across the gap, aware of the boy doing the same. Then, Sin was there, hovering overhead, and Auron heard Jecht's voice in his head.
Hey, ya big stiff; ready to go home, to Spira?
Auron looked up at Sin.
"You are sure?" he asked.
Yeah, you big lummox; but you'd better grab the runt before he falls to his death, or this'll all be a bust.
Auron brought his gaze back down, looking for Tidus. There he was, hanging onto a ledge for dear life.
"Auron!" the boy wailed. Auron looked down at him.
"This is it," he sighed as he bent to grab the boy by the collar, hauling him up until they were eye-to-eye. Everything was felling upward now, machina, debris, dead bodies; all flying into this swirling maw, and Auron briefly wondered what words of comfort he could say to the boy. There was nothing he could say, no words of wisdom. Except for this…
"This is your story…"
Then, Auron felt the world, stretching into infinity all around him. He could see the terror in Tidus blue eyes. Then, everything went away, swallowed up by brilliant whiteness…
Auron hung there in the blinding whiteness, aware he had lost his grip on the boy. A moment of panic overtook him…
Calm down! Jecht's voice sounded a little testy. I just need to drop you two off separately, that's all…
"Go easy on Tidus, Jecht. He knows nothing of Spira."
Then, it's time for the runt to learn, ain't it? Don't worry, Auron. He'll be fine; he's my boy. Gotta drop you off now. The landing might be a touch rough…
The whiteness faded, and Auron became aware he was falling through the air, the ground below mostly grassy plains.
The Calm Lands…
The ground tilted up at a crazy angle, and he hit something that went oof! Auron rolled off whatever he had hit, hand reaching into his D-Scabbard; but he wasn't quite fast enough this time…
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a young man, holding a heavy club, swinging it for all he was worth. Then, stars exploded inside the Guardian's skull, swift darkness following in its wake…
"Aw, hell, Tema," the older man sat up, feeling just a little breathless from this unexpected encounter. "I think ya killed him."
"He had no right to fall out of the sky like that," Tema clutched his club. "Are you hurt, Mory?"
"I don't think so," Mory checked himself. Nothing seemed amiss, so he crawled over to look at the red-coated stranger who had literally fallen from the sky. The man's body lay sprawled, like a rag doll, on the grass. Mory poked the body with a hand, expecting a groan, or a twitch. But, there was nothing…
"Tema," he whispered. "I think ya really did kill him."
"I thought he was attacking you!" Tema protested.
Mory knelt by the sprawled body, looking it over. Sunglasses, jug, katana, armor and cowl, and the heavy red coat…
"A Warrior Monk…" he breathed. "I think this is a Warrior Monk."
"Oh, that's just great!" Tema threw up his hands. "You know what they do to avenge one of their own?"
"No!" Mory retorted. "And neither do you!"
"And I don't ever want to find out, neither!"
"It's just a…little…late for that, Tema."
"Aw, Mory; what the heck do we do?"
"Gimme a moment to think," Mory turned the body over. "Help me strip him of anything that can identify him. Then, we'll go to Besaid Island. We'll be safe there, I think."
"If Luzzu don't shoot your face off, ya mean."
"He won't," Mory assured him. "Luzzu's the forgiving type, if ya know what I mean. Now, help me here…"
He looked down at the body; male, somewhere in his mid-to-late thirties, dark hair, laced with gray. Blood matted his hair, covering the left side of his face. It looked like he was also missing his right eye as well…
That wasn't us, Mory told himself. He musta been though the wars…
There were times when Lady Belegamine irritated the hell out of Svanda. The woman was so wise, possessed of almost inhuman patience and wisdom. She also had a reputation for prescience; so when she showed up at the Trading Center, looking to hire some chocobos, and an armed escort, Svanda naturally suspected the worst. Now, here they were, on the open plains, Lady Belegamine, Svanda, and two armed escorts, heading for the Great Western Rift…
"What's she looking for?" Cal, one of the escorts asked.
"I don't think it's a what," Svanda replied. She had noticed the gear lady Belegamine was carrying; Potions, Antidotes, bandages, gauze and tape. In Svanda's opinion, this didn't bode well at all…
"Hey!" Marek, the other rider, reined in his chocobo. "Look over there!"
Lady Belegamine guided her chocobo over, dismounted to kneel by a half-naked body lying on the grass. Svanda dismounted too, looked at the man laying there, his face obscured by dry blood.
"At least they left him his trousers, whoever they were," Svanda muttered. "Stealing from the dead like that…"
"Peace, Child," Lady Belegamine bent over, examining the body. "What was taken from him shall find its way into the hands of one who loves him. Besides, he isn't dead."
Svanda looked down at the man. Yes, the naked chest moved, rising and falling steadily. So, he lived yet. But, all those scars…
Apart from the fresh wound-a severe knock to the head was Svanda's best guess-the man's body bore the signs of a very rough life. His right eye was sealed, a scar bisecting the lid, jagging its way down his jaw line, merging with other scars that meandered their way from his neck, down to his chest and shoulder, mangling the right shoulder, leaving vivid scars across the right half of his rib-cage.
Forget about the head wound. How did he survive that?
She watched as Lady Belegamine took the man's head in her hands, probing the head wound.
"His skull isn't fractured, thank Yevon," the lady spoke meditatively. "But, we must make sure he is all right. We must take him to Remiem Temple."
"How?" The Temple could be approached by chocobo. But getting an unconscious man there would be next to impossible.
Lady Belegamine Summoned an Aeon, and Valefor dropped out of the sky. That, it seemed was Lady Belegamine's solution to the problem. Under her direction, Cal, and Marek, lifted the man's body, placed it against the Aeon's broad chest. Valefor clutched the body gently, and then took off at Belegamine's nod, heading for the temple. The others mounted their chocobos and headed off too…
Presently, the man was safely tucked into bed at Remiem Temple, all the blood washed off, warm blankets drawn up to his chin. Now that she could see the man's face, she could admit it was an attractive face, entirely in keeping with the broad shoulders and powerfully muscled chest. But, he remained deeply unconscious, insensate to the rest of the world. Lady Belegamine had called it a coma…
"He'll wake up when he's ready," she had explained. "Talk to him. Comatose patients do hear what is said to them. It may be that your voice will help him forge a path out of the darkness, and into the light of day."
So, Svanda found herself talking to the man, telling him all about her job as a Chocobo-Racing Instructor in the Calm Lands. She was right in the middle of a detailed description of her favorite chocobo's odd little habits when the softest of sighs interrupted her. She stopped, and bent over the man. Another sigh escaped him.
"Lady Belegamine!" she called. "I think he's coming around!"
"Good," Belegamine strode into the room, sat by the other side of the bed. "I was afraid it would take longer."
The man stirred again, breathing becoming deeper, more regular. His head turned uneasily upon the pillow. Then, his eye fluttered open, a groan escaping his lips.
"Uhh…Where…am I?
"You're at Remiem Temple, my friend," Belegamine said. "How do you feel?"
The man lifted a hand, rubbed his head.
"Like death warmed over," he said at last.
Belegamine nodded, had him track her index finger with his eye. Good, he comprehended and spoke, and his eye was tracking, and focusing properly. There was only one more thing to check…
"Can you tell me your name?" Belegamine asked.
The man opened his mouth to speak. Then, a puzzled look came over his features, quickly giving way to panic.
"I don't…I don't know…"he tried to sit, hissed in sudden pain, clutching the sides of his head. Belegamine laid her hands upon his head, sent pulses of Healing into him.
"Hush," she soothed. "Rest; you are safe here. Sleep…"
Her hands gently caressed his face, fingers gently closing his good eye, sending him into the realm of sleep. Svanda watched as Belegamine eased the man back down, and spread the warm blankets back over him, tucking him in for the night.
"Well," the woman laid a gentle hand on his forehead. "He has amnesia. He has lost his past. He has lost himself."
"Will he get his memory back?"
"I can't say," Lady Belegamine sighed. "Some have regained their memories. But, others have lived their whole lives through, and never gotten their memories back. Only time will tell."
The last few days had been a whirlwind of terror for Tidus. Getting swallowed up by Sin had been the least of it. He'd had a dream about a confrontation with his father. That, combined with his very real fear of being alone was almost enough to send the boy into a state of gibbering terror. He had awakened to find himself in dark waters just off an island full of deserted ruins. Deserted, but not by Fiends…
The Fiends in the water were horrifying. Not so much the flesh-eating Fish-type Fiend. Those, he could deal with. But, the monster, that one Tidus drew the line at. Auron had often told him there was no shame in running from a superior foe.
So, he fled, the Fiend in hot pursuit. Tidus won, by a hair, finding refuge in a long-abandoned temple.
Out of the fire, into the freezer…
A little diligent exploration yielded up some firewood, some flint, and tinder. Now, at least, he was warm. But, he had no food, and he wasn't alone. A Fiend had found him. Fortunately, some strange people had found him too. The one in command of this small group, a young woman, Tidus thought, fought the Fiend by his side. Then, the Fiend dealt with, her people took him prisoner.
Well, he found out all they needed was someone to do a little hard labor; a salvage job. He went down into the water with the woman, and did the job, a ruined machina the woman's people were interested in.
In return, they gave him food and the woman-Rikku-gave him some sage advice…
Don't say you're from Zanarkand. They'll all think you're crazy.
She went on to tell him about the destruction of Zanarkand, one thousand years ago. Tidus wanted to tell her she was wrong. But, how could he prove it to her?
At least her company was enjoyable. He began to entertain the notion that he might be able to stay with the Al Bhed. But Sin, apparently had other ideas…
Sin attacked the Al Bhed ship that night, sending Tidus overboard.
Heh! The heavy, masculine voice sounded in his head. Sorry 'bout that, kid…
Huh? Dad?
No answer…
Tidus awoke with a splash and a snort. He was in calm, shallow water. There was a beach, and an island. No sign was visible of the Al Bhed ship. No sign of Sin either…
Why did I hear my father? What's he got to do with Sin? Or, am I simply going nuts?
Something thumped Tidus on the head.
"Ow!" he caught the thing in his hand, and his breath caught. It was a Blitzball…
All right…
There were men on the beach, training with Blitzballs, under the direction of a man with improbable-looking red hair. A little showing-off on Tidus' part, and the red headed man-Wakka, by name-was impressed enough to ask him to join his team; the Besaid Aurochs. Of course, Wakka had tested Tidus' abilities in the water first…
Just a little Fiend-fighting to get the blood up, Wakka had explained later. Then, like Rikku, he had some advice for Tidus…
"Don't tell folks you come from Zanarkand, brudda. That just can't be true. Sin's Toxin, ya?"
Tidus nodded agreement. At least he had found some people to be with. But, Sin made him uneasy.
Why did I hear Dad's voice? And, where is Auron?
Two men came into the village two nights later. There was a brief altercation between them, and the Crusaders stationed there; but Luzzu, head of the local Crusader's Chapter hereabouts, sorted the whole thing out. Apparently, the two men-both looking decidedly on the seedy side-were deserters from the Crusaders. For whatever reason, Luzzu hadn't ordered their arrests; even though there were those who believed he should have…
"That Mory!" Lulu huffed, glaring daggers at the two men. She scared Tidus just a little bit. "If he hadn't fled, if he and Tema had only stayed, Chappu might still be alive-"
"Aw, Lu," Wakka intervened. "You can't know that for sure. 'Sides, Chappu's dead. Ain't nuthin' bringing him back. Live and let live, ya?"
Lulu sneered at that, but went back into her hut.
"What happened?" Tidus asked Wakka.
"Uh…" Wakka scratched his eyebrow. "Mory and Tema were Crusaders, along with my brudda, Chappu. I told you about Chappu, didn't I?"
Tidus nodded. In fact, Wakka had done more than that. He had given Tidus his brother's sword. Chappu had left it at Besaid when he went off to die.
"Well…" Wakka continued. "Mory and Tema were at the battle with Chappu; and they took off, left him there to die alone."
"You must've have wanted them to pay for what they did."
"At first, ya. But, then I realized they gotta live with what they did. Lu, though…"
Wakka shook his head.
"She liked Chappu?" Tidus hazarded a guess.
"Ya…" Wakka nodded, almost choking up. "They were gonna get married. If I ever find the jerk that convinced him to enlist…"
"Let's not think of that," Tidus suggested. "Let's think of how we're gonna get the Aurochs up to speed. Okay?"
The next day dawned bright and sunny. Mory and Tema were still there, squatting in the area just outside the Temple precincts. Wakka had gone into the Temple, along with Tidus, to pay his respects to the statue of High Summoner Lord Oholland. Tidus had no clear ideas of what Summoners did. But, this Summoner had been an equally legendary Blitzball Player. So, Wakka was laying all his prayers at the feet of this Patron Saint of Blitzball players. Then, prayers done, they headed back outside, into the sunny light of day.
"You know," Wakka stretched lazily. "You're gonna make a great player for the team."
"As long as you remember our new motto."
"Ya!" Wakka made a fist, pumped the air. "Victory!"
Tidus laughed out loud. Life was good today…
Then, his gaze fell on Mory and Tema, on the pile of rubbish that lay at their feet. Tidus stopped, staring at the heavy red coat, the chest-plate and cowl, the katana, the jug, and sunglasses. He felt the hiss of his blood, suddenly boiling in his ears.
"Where did you get this?" he could hardly hear his own voice over the pounding in his head; but others did. Lulu came out of her hut, and Luzzu also came out to see what was going on. Mory and Tema just looked frightened…
"What's the problem?" Luzzu spoke casually.
"Yeah, brudda," Tidus could feel Wakka's hand on his arm. He pointed at Mory and Tema.
"They've got Auron's stuff!" Tidus accused. He heard the whispers all around.
Auron? Sir Auron?
"Are you sure?" Luzzu asked.
"Yeah," Tidus was trembling, couldn't stop the shaking. "He only had one eye, so he used the sunglasses because his eye was really sensitive to light. He even wore them at night. That's his stuff, all right."
"You knew Sir Auron?" Luzzu asked.
"Yeah," Tidus nodded. "He kinda…raised me…after my Dad died."
Luzzu looked stunned at this, as did most of the villagers. The man turned back to Mory and Tema, and there was steel in his voice this time.
"You'd better answer Tidus' question."
"Uh…" Mory took a deep breath. "It was an accident! I swear it was an accident!"
"What happened?" Tidus just wanted to grab Mory and shake him.
"We thought he was attacking us!" Mory fell to his knees. "He just fell out of the sky, landed right on top of us, so we…uh…we…"
His voice trailed off, and Tidus felt ice enter his veins.
No…dear god, please…no…
"It was me," Tema admitted. "I hit him with my club. I swear, I didn't mean to kill him. I just panicked y'see?"
He hung his head, looking thoroughly ashamed; and Tidus felt the light go out of his world.
Dead…Auron's dead…
But, they had his things, and Tidus knew what that meant…
"You robbed his corpse!" he yelled, feeling Wakka's hands on his shoulders. "You filthy sonsofbitches, you-"
"Easy, brudda," Wakka gently pulled him back.
"Please!" Mory pleaded, still on his knees. "He was dead, and there were thousands of Fiends out on the plains. Yes, we took his stuff, as he had no further need of it. We're sorry. We didn't know it was him…"
All around him, Tidus could hear the villagers whispering to each other.
Auron…
Sir Auron…
The Legendary Guardian…
Dead…
Luzzu strode up to Mory and Tema, spoke to them, his voice cold with distaste.
"You two had better leave Besaid," he said. "Leave sir Auron's things here. Unless I miss my guess, they belong to Tidus now."
"Me?"
"You said he raised you," Luzzu explained. "That makes you his Next of Kin."
Mory and Tema fled, leaving their pilfered gear behind. Luzzu helped Tidus gather everything up and carry it all back to the hut he was now sharing with Wakka.
"Where do you want me to put the katana?" Luzzu asked.
"Next to mine," Tidus pointed to the Brotherhood Sword that Wakka had given him only the day before. Luzzu reverently place Auron's katana next to it.
"You've heard of Auron?" Tidus asked the Crusader.
"Yes," Luzzu nodded. "He's famous. He was the greatest Guardian who ever lived."
"Guardian?" Tidus clutched Auron's coat to his chest. "What's that?"
"I keep on forgetting you got exposed to Sin's Toxin," Luzzu shook his head. "Guardians protect Summoners when they go on Pilgrimage to defeat Sin. Sir Auron, and Sir Jecht, were Lord Braska's Guardians. They helped to bring the Calm."
"Sir Jecht? My old man?"
"Sir Jecht was your father?"
"Unless there were two Jechts…"
"Then, you must be proud," Luzzu bowed that peculiar reverence that was so like the Blitzball sign for Victory. Tidus returned the gesture awkwardly.
Proud…yeah…My old man was a jerk. But I can't tell Luzzu that.
"I'll leave you alone now," the Crusader said. "I'm sorry for your loss."
Tidus was alone now. Auron's chest-plate had been set next to the katana. The leather cowl, the jug, and the sunglasses went onto the bedside table. Tidus sat on his bed, Auron's coat in his arms.
Why? He raised his head, looked at the ceiling. First Dad, then Mom, and now Auron. Why does everyone have to die?
He bowed his head, tears leaking from his eyes, his father's taunts ringing in his mind.
Cry…Cry…Cry…That's all you ever do. What a little crybaby…
Shut up, old man! Tidus clutched the red coat closer as he wept. Auron was worth crying over…
Svanda had been watching the man-they were calling him Jon Day-as he read one of the many books Lady Belegamine possessed. The women had managed to scrounge up some clothing that fit him, dark trousers, and shirt. He seemed to be completely recovered from his injuries; physically, that is. His nightmares told another story. Svanda and Lady Belegamine had kept watch over him, splitting the duty between them, and every night, he had those nightmares. Svanda wondered what it was that haunted the man's dreams, but Jon Day never said.
For now, though, he was at peace, reading a book on Spira's ancient history, what Spira had been like before the appearance of Sin. A lone pyrefly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. As Svanda watched, it floated over Jon Day's right shoulder for a moment. Then, it slipped back down, disappearing into the man's shoulder, and Svanda's eyes widened, and she couldn't keep from gasping out loud. Jon Day looked up at her, eyebrow lifting questioningly.
"I've got to see Lady Belegamine," she stammered. "I'll be right back."
He nodded, went back to his reading, and Svanda went outside. She found Lady Belegamine as she spoke to a wild chocobo, tempting it with chunks of bread, and gentle words.
"There you are, old friend. How long have you lived here?"
The chocobo made its usual kwe kwe sound as it cautiously approached her.
"Have you found your peers in racing yet?" Belegamine's hand was out, filled with chunks of bread. The bird peered at her outstretched hand, decided it was safe, and snatched a cube of bread.
Apparently, Lady Belegamine was safe company, for the chocobo remained there, taking bread, and letting her ruffle its neck feathers. Svanda just stood, and watched this magical moment. Then, the bread was gone, and the chocobo left, going back to its territory on the other side of the Temple. Belegamine wiped her hands, looked over her shoulder to see Svanda.
"Well, child, how is Jon Day?"
"He's Unsent," Svanda was proud her voice remained steady
"Ah…" Lady Belegamine chuckled. "I wondered how long it would take for you to realize."
"You must Send him, my Lady; at once, lest he should become a Fiend."
"He's lasted ten years, Svanda. If he hasn't become a Fiend by now, he never will."
"You knew!" Svanda accused. "How could you-"
"Do you remember the Besaid Affair?" Belegamine asked. "Probably not; you would've been only a child at the time. A Ronso turned up at Besaid about ten years ago. He had a little girl with him; High Summoner Braska's daughter, Yuna. The Ronso, Kimahri, had come to Besaid at the request, he said, of a man facing death, to bring Braska's daughter to Besaid, so she could live in peace. If things had gone as planned, Yuna would've grown up in Besaid to become the Hope of Spira."
"Something went wrong?"
"Yes," Belegamine sat on the stone steps leading up to the Temple, invited Svanda to do the same. "Nobody knew that High Summoner Braska's wife-long dead, of course-Yuna's mother, had been an Al Bhed. It all came to a head three years later, when Cid, leader of the Al Bhed, arrived to demand legal custody of Yuna. Her mother had been his sister, so he had a legal right to do so."
Lady Belegamine shook her head.
"Yuna's father had been High Summoner Braska," she said. "He had brought the Calm, sacrificing his life to do so. But, when the villagers realized little Yuna was half-Al Bhed, she was tainted in their eyes."
"They gave her to the Al Bhed?"
"The village Elders all but kicked her out," Lady Belegamine's sounded truly disgusted.
"So, what did the Ronso do?" Svanda asked. "Did he go back to Gagazet?"
"No," Belegamine spoke thoughtfully. "He went with Yuna. Apparently, he made a promise…"
"But, what does that have to do with Jon Day?"
"It has everything to do with Jon Day. Trust me on this," lady Belegamine's eyes held way too much knowledge for Svanda to feel comfortable. Still, there was also humor in her eyes. "Let's go back inside. He must be lonely with no one to talk to."
"I think not," Svanda replied. "He's a perfect loner. I think you'd likely need a crowbar; just to pry words out of him."
She followed Lady Belegamine back into the Temple. Jon Day put the book he was reading down, when the two women entered the Library.
"Well, Jon Day," Belegamine said. "How are you feeling today?"
"Jon Day…" he snorted. "I don't like the name."
"I know. But it will have to do until you get your memories back. Unless you truly prefer hey, you?"
Jon day chuckled at that. Svanda loved that wonderfully dry chuckle…
"I'm all right, I guess," he got to his feet, began to pace the room. "If only I could stop dreaming…"
"What are they like?" Svanda asked.
"It's hard to describe," the man paused. "I have two friends, and we're trying to…kill a Fiend, I think. But, it's so…vast…"
"Do you remember your friends' names?"
""I could almost swear I do, my Lady," Jon asserted. "But, then I wake up, and it all just goes away…"
He pounded a wall with his fist, frustration clear in every line of his body.
"What happens in your dream, Jon?"
The man was staring at nothing, stark agony in his eyes.
"My friends," he whispered. "They die. And I am helpless to prevent it."
Lady Belegamine glided over to Jon Day; put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Your friends were killed by Sin, I believe," she said.
"Sin," Jon Day grunted.
"How does that make you feel?"
"How can I tell, my Lady? I don't even know who I am, much less anything else."
"But, what do you want?"
"Apart from my memories?"
"Yes, Jon. I know you want that most of all; and that will come. Eventually. But, apart from that, what do you want?"
Jon closed his eye for a moment.
"I want…" he began uncertainly. "I…want to kill the thing that killed my friends. I know I don't remember who they were. But, I know they were important to me. They were my friends, whoever they were; and I don't want their deaths to go unavenged."
He opened his eye again.
"So, how do I go about killing that thing?" he asked.
"By becoming a Summoner," Belegamine said. "That is the only way to defeat Sin. Do you wish to become a Summoner?"
"My Lady!" Svanda hissed, but Lady Belegamine waved her to silence.
Jon Day stood simply stood there, the idea taking root in his mind. The monster that haunted his dreams every night, bringing him awake covered in sweat, his heart thudding in his ears…
"Yes!" his voice was strong and sure. "I want to defeat Sin!"
"My Lady!" Svanda interrupted again. "He can't!"
"What?" Jon Day was confused.
"Don't worry, Jon," Lady Belegamine held up a hand. "Svanda and I need to speak privately for a bit. We'll be right back."
She stepped out into the vast main area of the Temple, Svanda right behind.
"My Lady," Svanda began. "He's Unsent. He can't become a Summoner."
"You are sure of this?"
"The Scriptures tell us this, my Lady."
"Ah…the scriptures…"Lady Belegamine chuckled softly. "So, he should be forbidden even the chance to try?"
"My Lady, I have some skill in the white Arts. Even if he were still living, he wouldn't be able to become a Summoner. He lacks the necessary magical strength."
"So, he does," Belegamine agreed. "But, so did High Summoner Oholland. He was an athlete, and a warrior. Like our friend, Jon Day, he had exceptional Physical Strength. But, he could barely light a candle with his Magic."
"But he…" Svanda paused, trying to collect her thoughts. "He became…How did he…"
"Sin attacked Luca," Lady Belegamine explained. "It killed most of his friends, and practically decimated the Blitzball teams at the time. So, Lord Oholland simply decided he was going to become a Summoner, and he refused to take no for an answer. Then, someone told him about The Summoner's Sacrifice…"
"The Summoner's Sacrifice?" Svanda had never even heard of that.
"Yes. It is a process whereby someone with great physical strength can sacrifice some of that strength, in return for Magical Strength. Lord Oholland made the Sacrifice, and received enough Magical Strength to become a Summoner; and we all know what happened after that."
"He brought a Calm of his own to Spira," Svanda said. In one thousand years, he had been one of only for to do so…
"Yes, Child," Belegamine nodded. "Now, if Jon Day wishes to become a Summoner, he will have to do the same; make the Summoner's Sacrifice."
"But, would it work for an Unsent, my Lady? What if he fails?"
"If he fails," Lady Belegamine said. "Then, he will be Sent as surely as if a Summoner has Sent him."
"That's harsh," Svanda commented.
"And yet, weren't you the one who asked me to Send him?" Belegamine replied.
"Yes, but that's different, somehow."
"Indeed, it is," Belegamine laid a gentle hand on the other woman's shoulder. "Let him try if he wishes. What harm can come of it? If he fails, he will go to the Farplanes. But, if he succeeds, he will become Hope Incarnate, for all of Spira."
"Very well, my Lady," Svanda swallowed her reservation. Besides, Spira needed hope; needed it desperately. Even if said hope came from an Unsent…
"Thank you," Belegamine smiled. "Let's go back to Jon Day…"
Now, Svanda listened as Belegamine told Jon Day all about the Summoner's path, about the death that lay at the end of the Path. Jon Day remained silent for a few minutes, turning things over in his mind.
"So," he spoke at last. "If I defeat Sin, I'll die?"
"Yes."
"Do you know why?"
"I'm sorry, Jon, but I never made it that far," Belegamine admitted. "But, no Summoner has ever survived defeating Sin. This much we do know, the Summoner gives his life to defeat Sin. Do you still want to try? I wouldn't blame you if you changed your mind."
Jon Day stared off into the distance. He had no past against which to project future decisions. All he had to guide him where the nightmares. Svanda could see the struggle within the man. Finally, a sigh escaped him, and he relaxed a little.
"I wouldn't be able to look myself in the face if I didn't at least try," he said, smiling ruefully. "What do I have to do?"
"Firstly, you don't have enough Magical Strength…" Lady Belegamine explained the Summoner's Sacrifice to him, and the risks that went with it…
""If you do this," she warned. "You will become very ill; unto death, in fact. And, if you die, there is no Phoenix Down, or Life Spell, that will save you. Understand this; the threat to your life is a real one, and you could die of it. But, if you survive, you will have the Magical Strength to become a Summoner. If you survive this, I will train you. That's my promise to you. So, are you willing to risk your life for this?"
Jon Day scratched his stubbled jaw.
"It's better than waiting for the nightmares to drive me insane," he said at last. "What do I do?"
Belegamine looked at him, approval in her eyes.
"If courage, and strength of will, are the keys to victory," she said. "You will win. Now, go to your room, and prepare yourself. I shall join you presently."
The light tapping on the hut's door awakened Tidus. He had fallen asleep with Auron's coat in his arms, and his cheek lay upon the soft folds of red cloth.
"Are you all right, Tidus?" that was Lulu's voice.
"I'm fine," Tidus sat up, looked at the coat he was still holding. Lulu's eyes held a deep compassion.
"Sir Auron was important to you?" she asked.
"He was like a father to me," Tidus sighed. "I just can't believe he's dead."
He sighed again.
"What do I do with his stuff?" he asked the Black Mage. "Auron's sword is too heavy for me, and I would feel silly wearing his sunglasses."
Lulu bent, stroked the soft red fabric of the coat.
"Go to one of the seamstresses here," she said. "Have the coat taken in to fit you. That way, something of Sir Auron shall always be with you. As for the rest, keep what you want, and give what you can't use to those who can. Sir Auron's katana, for example. There are a few people here in Besaid who could wield such a weapon properly. Sir Luzzu is one who can, and he would wield Sir Auron's katana with the honor it deserves."
"I'll do that," Tidus nodded. He had the feeling Auron would've approved of Luzzu. As for Auron's red coat…
Tidus was sure he would feel just as silly wearing Auron's red coat. But, he wanted to keep a piece of Auron; something to keep the memories green…
"I miss him," Tidus felt more tears brimming in his eyes. "He was all the family I had left."
"It's tough to lose the ones you love," Lulu laid a delicate hand on his shoulder. "But, we all know that our loved ones would wish us to go on, to live. That, at least, is what I tell myself that Chappu would want me to do. I think Sir Auron would wish you to do the same."
"Yeah," Tidus smiled through his tears. "That's what he would've said too…"
Will it truly be worth all this sacrifice?
Belegamine asked herself this question as she sat by Jon Day's bed. He had made the Summoner's Sacrifice, and now he lay, wracked by fever and spasms. It had been thus for the last three days, the man hovering on the brink of extinction, but refusing to relax his hold on life. He truly didn't know how to let go…
Now, he lay huddled under a thin sheet, shivering, chest heaving as he strove for breath; and all Belegamine could think to do was stroke his sweat-soaked hair, and hum a gentle lullaby, sweetly singing to see him through the night.
It will end tonight, she realized. Either he will find his way to the Farplanes, or he will succeed, and become a Summoner. All I can do now is ease his passage down whichever path he chooses…
So, she sang, and stroked his hair, all through the long night. Finally, dawn came, the sun peering over the horizon, heralding a new day for Spira; and Belegamine became aware that the man's body had ceased to tremble, and his breathing…
She leaned over to look at him more closely, fearing the worst. A deep sigh shook the man, and he seemed to relax in his sleep, breathing quietly. Belegamine heaved a sigh of her own. The worst part of the Summoner's Sacrifice was over and done with, and he still lived…
Belegamine Delved him, using her Talents in the White Arts. His Physical Strength was less than before, but he had reaped a magnificent harvest of magical Strength; more than she expected he would receive. In truth, he had received enough for him to make a formidable Summoner. There was more, too; an added irony Belegamine could not help but appreciate…
"My Lady?" Svanda stood just inside the small room. "How is he?"
"He lives," Belegamine announced. "He has attained that which he required to become a Summoner."
Svanda advanced into the room, looked at the sleeping man.
"The sheets need to be changed," she said. "They're soaked right through."
"Help me, then…"
It took some work on their part, but, soon, they had Jon Day wrapped in fresh, clean sheets.
"I know you have some talent in the White Arts, Svanda" Belegamine said. "Would you please Scan him for me?"
Svanda did so. Her eyes widened, and she almost fell to her knees.
"My Lady!" she gasped
"Yes?"
"He is no longer Unsent!"
"Yes," Belegamine bent to pull the blankets over the man's shoulders, smoothing his hair back over his forehead.
"But, how?" Svanda demanded.
"You were right about the Unsent being forbidden from becoming Summoners," Belegamine said. "One reason was that Yevon disapproves of people living past their original spans of life. The other reason is that the Summoner's Gifts are all for Life, in one form or another, and the Unsent are, of course, dead. The two are virtually antithetical to each other; and an Unsent who makes the Summoner's Sacrifice can either die, or become alive again. Perhaps, this is Fate's idea of rewarding Jon Day for all he has suffered and lost. He is truly alive now."
"When he recovers, my Lady; will you teach him?"
"Everything that I know, I will teach him. That was my promise, and I shall keep it. He is Spira's Hope now, and I will do everything I can for him."
She laid a gentle hand on his forehead.
Maybe, in time, he shall forgive me…
Two weeks passed in Besaid. They were peaceful weeks, for which Tidus was grateful. He had spent those two weeks helping Wakka train the Aurochs, getting them to accept the new motto-Victory!-and learning the ways of this little village.
If not for the Blitzball team, he would've been bored silly.
Finally, the seamstress was finished taking in Auron's red coat…
Tidus tried it on for the first time, feeling like a complete poseur. But, the coat fit him perfectly; as if it had been made just for him. On a lark, he slipped his right arm out of the sleeve, held it in the folds of cloth, the way Auron had, looked at himself in the mirror.
Nah…
Tidus slipped his arm back into the sleeve.
Only Auron could do that and not look ridiculous…
Lulu had been right, though. He felt comforted wearing Auron's coat, the feeling that Auron was with him, looking over his shoulder, perhaps even approving of what he was doing, filled his mind.
That was the funniest thing, really, this strong feeling, almost a certainty, that Auron was still alive…
