Author's Note: All things FFX belong to Square, and I? I belong to Auron.
Chapter 1: The Melancholy Man
The vastest things are those we may not learn.
We are not taught to die, nor to be born, nor how to burn with love.
How pitiful is our enforced return to those small things we are the masters of. - Mervyn Peake
He needed to think, and that required a little solitude to clear his head. Careful not to wake the others, he left the encampment, leaving the small glade behind as he strode silently into the densly wooded forest beyond. Broken sunlight glinted through the closely spaced boles, sending strobe-like flashes across the surface of his dark glasses.
He reminded himself not to wander too far, ever mindful of his responsibilities to the rag-tag group of youngsters back at the camp. And that was part of his melancholy on this chill morning wasn't it? Loathe as he was to admit it, he missed the company of adults. Memories of the past came unbidden to his weary mind, whirling across his thoughts like pyreflies.
A barely audible sigh escaped his lips, as he turned back the way he had come, circling around the trunk of a massive tree, one leather-gloved hand brushing against its ancient bark. Self pity? I think not, he chided himself. There was no room for that in his purpose... guide the young summoner to the completion of her pilgrimage, fullfil his promises to his friends, and in doing so have the chance to alter the hideous reality of this world, so drenched in the blood of the fallen.
He was little more than halfway back to camp, when a familiar sensation danced like electricity across the small hairs on the back of his neck. Something wasn't right. Stopping, his amber eye narrowing, he surveyed the landscape ahead. The others? In danger? No. This threat was coming from behind him, further back through the trees. Without thinking, he turned and stole swiftly back into the forest, past the ancient tree trunk, moving with the silent grace of a warrior unmatched in this world of perpetual death.
________________
So, what awaits the Crimson Guardian?
Chapter 1: The Melancholy Man
The vastest things are those we may not learn.
We are not taught to die, nor to be born, nor how to burn with love.
How pitiful is our enforced return to those small things we are the masters of. - Mervyn Peake
He needed to think, and that required a little solitude to clear his head. Careful not to wake the others, he left the encampment, leaving the small glade behind as he strode silently into the densly wooded forest beyond. Broken sunlight glinted through the closely spaced boles, sending strobe-like flashes across the surface of his dark glasses.
He reminded himself not to wander too far, ever mindful of his responsibilities to the rag-tag group of youngsters back at the camp. And that was part of his melancholy on this chill morning wasn't it? Loathe as he was to admit it, he missed the company of adults. Memories of the past came unbidden to his weary mind, whirling across his thoughts like pyreflies.
A barely audible sigh escaped his lips, as he turned back the way he had come, circling around the trunk of a massive tree, one leather-gloved hand brushing against its ancient bark. Self pity? I think not, he chided himself. There was no room for that in his purpose... guide the young summoner to the completion of her pilgrimage, fullfil his promises to his friends, and in doing so have the chance to alter the hideous reality of this world, so drenched in the blood of the fallen.
He was little more than halfway back to camp, when a familiar sensation danced like electricity across the small hairs on the back of his neck. Something wasn't right. Stopping, his amber eye narrowing, he surveyed the landscape ahead. The others? In danger? No. This threat was coming from behind him, further back through the trees. Without thinking, he turned and stole swiftly back into the forest, past the ancient tree trunk, moving with the silent grace of a warrior unmatched in this world of perpetual death.
________________
So, what awaits the Crimson Guardian?