Chapter 01 – The Beginning of a Journey

It was another day

Another day of living in agony with himself.

Mikal awoke to the sound of a bustling city and the sound of seagulls squawking outside his hotel window. He say up in his bed and stretched his arms and exhaled slowly, pushing his shoulder length jet black hair out of his eyes. Luca was always a busy city no matter what time it was; it reminded him of Zanarkand.

When It was still standing.

He swung his legs over the bed and stood up, turning to look out the window of his rented hotel room. The sun shone more brightly then it ever had that morning. There wasn't a could in the sky. Mikal turned away from the window and looked at the ground. Standing on his toes, he slowly leaned forward and held his hands out in front of him. His body weight crashed onto his hands as he started to do a set of pushups. He got to 25 and then stopped. Mikal usually did more to prepare his body for the rest of the day but today he had to leave early – he had a boat to catch.

He stood back up and walked into the bathroom, grabbing a towel as he went. He threw the towel down on the top of the toilet and turned on the water for the shower. Mikal looked at where the mirror should be and clenched his teeth, it was missing. He wasn't staying in a run down and dirty motel, no, he was staying in one of the more lavish ones in Luca. Mikal looked at his hands and flexed his fingers, there were cuts all along the tips and his palms were covered in crusted blood. Since that fateful day all those years ago, Mikal was unable to look himself in the mirror – he couldn't even look at his reflection in water. Every time he saw his own face he was reminded of all the terrible acts he had committed, granted that Mikal could have just avoided looking in the mirror, he almost seemed to enjoy torturing himself with his pain.

Mikal stepped in the shower and washed off the blood from his hands. He pushed his black hair back and sighed as the warm water washed over his toned body. Mikal's body was covered in scars, some large, some small and some that were almost invisible. But Mikal saw them. He saw them everyday and remembered how he got each and every one of them. The one he recalled the best was the one on his back.

A fiend had snuck up on him when he was sleeping one night and tried to make him it's next meal. Mikal panicked and startled it, causing the creature to dig it's claws deep into his back in defence. Mikal was lucky he wasn't paralysed from the ordeal, just badly injured. Over the years he had grown to enjoy pain, almost embracing it. He always kept one saying in his mind: "Pain lets you know that you're still alive". His bright green eyes flamed as he recalled the phrase.

He turned off the water to the shower and stepped out. He dried off his body and stepped out into the room, it was surprisingly cold on such a warm looking day. He threw the towel in the corner of the room and began to get dressed. Mikal put on a pair of loose fitting black leather trousers that had numerous buckles and pockets on it as well as a silver belt with a oval belt buckle on it. He pulled a tight white undershirt over his torso followed by a red v-neck shirt with the logo of an angel on the bottom corner. Next he pulled on a pair of black biker boots, also with chrome angel's on them, and buckled them up. Last was a pair of black riding gloves that had numerous rips in them and were almost unwearable aside from the pieces of metal that held them all together. Mikal then stood up and stretched his body and walked over to a dresser that was positioned up against the far wall of the room. He touched his forehead, his naval and then both pectorals and kissed his thumb and opened the top drawer.

Inside were two mythril fused katar's. Katar's were blades that were worn on the hands like a punching glove and used to deflect enemy attacks and be countered by a sword or a dagger. Mikal used two of these weapons to gain an upper hand on the enemy. Mikal had modified them to be worn on his wrist's instead of his hands, this allowed him to counter an attack and then strike with a punch or to throw the enemy away or perhaps disarm him. The single blade could be opened to reveal an internal blade which was used to cause more damage or to destroy a foe's weapon. Mikal had changed this design slightly, installing two triggers that would be pulled by his middle and ring finger that allowed the centre blade to fire out on a long cable to bring far away enemies to him or to help him climb when needed.

"Protect me well this day." He said as he ran a hand over the weapons.

He strapped them on his wrist with several leather buckles and placed his fingers through the holes that allowed his weapon to collapse and expand. When Mikal wore his brown cloak, the collapsed weapons were almost invisible under it. Too many foes had made the mistake of thinking him to be unarmed and were subsequently killed because of it. He pulled on the triggers and his weapon quickly collapsed back to its compact state and was hidden under his cloak. He pulled up the hood and stepped out of the hotel room and started his way to the dock.

The day was quite warm and Mikal enjoyed the warmth. A slight smile broke on his face as he breathed in the sea air. Even though Mikal had a very lamentable aura about him he still found time to enjoy the wonders of Spira. It's blue skies, the clear oceans, blitzball – well not so much blitzball anymore, the peace and quiet when he was out in the middle of nowhere and all he could hear would be the sounds of the crickets. Spira was a beautiful place and he had watched how it changed over the years. He saw his boat loading on passengers, it was just getting ready to leave. He quickened his pace and stepped onto the gangplank. The steward, who was appropriately named "Steward", looked up at Mikal with a slightly fearful look as he held out his hand to check Mikal's ticket. Mikal lowered his hood off his face and smiled lightly at the deck man. He presented his ticket and the Steward shakily took it from his hand, the smile seemed to intensify the feeling of uneasiness he once had. He handed the ticket back to Mikal and stepped aside so Mikal could pass. Mikal took the ticket back and walked past, raising his hood as he did so.

The boat wasn't very crowded, he passed only a few people as he made his way down inside the bowels of the ship. He came to the room marked on his ticket and he stepped inside. He looked around at his new change of scenery.

"Welcome to paradise." He said sarcastically as he sat down on his bed.

Mikal suddenly clutched his head and groaned in pain. His head shot straight up and his mouth was wide open, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. His body began to radiate slightly with a white light.

Images flashed through his mind like lightning. People, places, things, events and words that Mikal was unable to understand. Then one clear image came at the end. The death of a Summoner.

He slumped back onto the bed and rubbed his head in pain, the same vision from last night. It meant that he was going on the right track. The visions were just a small part of his abilites. Telepathy, telekinesis, psychic persuasion and probably more that he still hadn't discovered yet. Some people would call him a prophet, being able to tell the future from random visions that made no sense. Others called him a saviour, showing up just when he was needed. Mikal ignored the majority of the names, the names didn't lessen the pain he felt when the visions came. All he was able to make out from his current vision was Besaid Island, a woman, and the name of the ship. He had followed the clues this far and he knew what he had to do.

Plus the pain from this one was overwhelming.

For years he had ensured that selected Summoners always reached Zanarkand to achieve the final aeon. A task that he was cursed with. This time was no different. He felt the same vision coming on again as he clutched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and clenched his teeth in a silent scream. As the pain washed over him he remembered the line that he had kept with him for so long.

'Pain is good. Pain lets you know that you're still alive!'

A/N: Yes the first chapter was a victim of one of my foretold rewrites. I didn't want to do it but I realized, reading over it again, that this chapter was by far the weakest in my opinion. I like this version much better than the last because I got to put some more thought and some new ideas into it. Anyway, R/R and let me know what you think!