The air was salty and humid on the Kilika coast. Tropical trees sprouted outward at the the edges of the beach. The sky was orange and the clouds whipped around the islands in soft wavy whisps. The island folk of Kilika were holding a festival to celebrate the birth of their new Summoner. The black mage, Faela had been chosen to walk among them a ray of hope. She would bring the calm to the Kilika isles. Torches and lanterns burned bright in her honor. Children ran merrily at play. The other adults told stories about passed calms and what they would do were it to happen in their time. Faela, unfortunately wasn't permitted to participate in the festivities. She was a holy figure then and had been treated as such. She sat in silence on her puff pillow, surrounded by village elders.
Two Kilika Beast players were standing off to the corner of the tent, talking. They caught her attention. She wondered curiously what they were talking about. Blitz ball may have been out of season, but surely they had something more interesting to talk about than the nuns and acolytes surrounding her. She eavesdropped discreetly as she sat in silence on her pillow puff. "You think the crusaders will leave now that we have a summoner to protect us?" One asked the other.
"Not a chance. They don't really believe in the power of Yevon like we do. They've heard about sightings of Sin near the coast beyond the Kilika forest. I guess they want to take the fight into their own hands."
"I wouldn't step one foot in that forest. Everyone knows it's haunted."
"That's what I'm saying."
"How in Spira are they planning on taking on Sin by themselves like that?"
"No idea. Probably some taboo Al Bhed tricks."
Raised on the teachings of Yevon as all children of the island, she had heard stories of the Al Bhed and their Machina. The Al Bhed had displeased Yevon, who breathed all life into Spira with their excessive use of Machina. Angered by this, Yevon had casted down Sin, bringing Spira into eternal chaos. Since the destruction of Zanarkand the Al Bhed have been hated. They were excommunicated from the temples and sentenced to exile, forced to scavenge just to survive. It had been rumored that the Crusaders accepted them with welcome arms so that they may come up with a different method of killing Sin that didn't rely on the teachings of Yevon.
Faela walked around the village for what would be her last time. All the faces she's known for her entire life were going to disappear in a week as she disappeared over the horizon in a ship for Luca. She breathed in warm air and soaked up sunshine through her bare skin. She walked passed a group of kids playing with a blitz ball. One of them kicked it into the brush. It disappeared into the Kilika forest, never to be seen again. The boy cried out, "my ball!"
"There's no way I'm going in there. It's full of ghosts," another one of them said.
"I'll fetch it for you," Faela offered.
"Lady summoner!" They gathered around her, greeting her with a prayer of fayth. She returned the gesture.
"The summoner is a really powerful black mage. She can cast fire magic if she gets to any trouble," the boy enthused. Faela slipped into the the forest through the trees. It was wild. Vegetation had grown over the ruins of an ancient city. There was no roads as no one travelled through the Kilika forest due to the superstitions of the naitives. "Woe," she looked around curiously as she stepped farther inside of it. The sun shined down through the thick canopy in the tiniest of rays, making the floor rather dark. Sounds of animals and fiends alike surround her as she went deeper inside. "Uh!" She gasped as she walked up on the ball. "There you are," she picked up the ball happily. As she turned to leave she heard a distant voice, in song even. She hesitated for a moment. She was a summoner then. She couldn't afford to be wondering off. Then again, how was she to embark on a pilgrimage if she didn't have at least some adventurous spirit?
Deciding against all of the warnings of her neighbors, she travelled deeper into the forest. She searched. She searched for the voice. It was unwavering in tune, as it never stopped. She travelled straight and then slightly to the right. After a bit of walking the voice got louder. She could pick up on subtle details. It was a man, singing the hymn of the Fayth. It was a most sacred song. It warmed the hearts of all followers of Yevon. Eagerly, she continued her search for the man. The song got louder as she drew closer.
The music went quiet and she heard a loud screech as an Ochu ambushed her from her blind spot, attacking with its vines. She tumbled out of the way of its vines, letting them crackle against the ground like a bull whip. She stood to full height. She looked at the blitz ball in her grasp, thinking of a neat idea. She casted a fire spell on the ball, sending swirling waves of fire over its surface. She smiled with confidence as she reeled her arm back and threw the flaming ball at the Ochu. It hissed in pain and began shaking its body violently. As quick as a flash it struck Faela on her upper arm. "Ahh!" She fell to the ground from the force of the strike. "P-poison. C-can't move," she twitched a little and managed to turn her head to her attacker, but her body was completely numb. (This is it. I'm going to die before I've even had a chance at Sin. I'm so pathetic.) A tear escaped her as she stared back at her assailant. It wrapped its vines around her in a binding grip. "Ahhh!" She screamed with closed eyes from the anticipation of getting eaten alive. A large buster sword cut through the appendage like vines, making the Ochu shriek in agony. The tall sturdy man wielding it caught her before she could hit the ground.
"Here, drink this. It's an antidote," he spoke in a strange language as he propped her back on his bent knee. He placed the bottle to her lips.
"Antidote?" She drank willingly. Once she finished the bottle he sat her down on her feet. "Ah, thanks," she wobbled for a moment before getting her grip and standing on her two feet. The mysterious man stood upright with his sword in his hand.
"Stupid girl. What kind of Black Mage can't cast fire magic?" He complained to himself in a foreign language. "Stupid Yevonite," he faced the flailing Ochu. "Haaa!" he wielded his blade with such strength and agility. He brought his blade down on the Ochu, slicing through it diagonally. Its essence cried out as it became pyre flies.