Chapter I
Alongside one world known as Spira, there is another unknown to most mortal men.
In all tales, myths, legends and even parables, it went under one name: Avalon.
This dimension, this Avalon, was said to belong to the living. That is, living beings that had transcended beyond the boundaries of life itself; proven worthy of embracing immortality through choice; became one with the foundations of the planet through special, indestructible bonds.
These qualifications only applied to the gods. The aeons. Forces of life which nurtured and blessed the land under the hand of a single man, a summoner. Through his and the aeons' roles, the planet's waters calmed, the air was cleansed, the ground solidified, and flora and fauna came into existence. Man came, made in the image of the summoner, and they were to transform the land using the essence of magic. The aeons and the summoner took watch from Avalon then, waiting for the day when man would exceed in the arts of magic. For the day when they would become even stronger than them. With that day, and only that day, they would hand down the secrets to the creation of a new world. One even stronger than this planet, this Spira.
But that day never came.
When the idea of civilisation came to man, wars were had, diseases ran rampant, supplies had run thin in lesser areas and ordinary weather now brought disaster. Conflicting ideas and ambitions brought diversity to the table, the result being different races with different lifestyles. Soon very few cared for what they were created for, and they were content with looming on a now-broken world. The aeons and the summoner were stricken with grief for man's growing weakness, and they vanished.
While man worships the aeons and the summoner today, they wonder where it all went wrong. Perhaps the planet's magic was too weak. Perhaps they were simply not made to live on magic. Or maybe perhaps the staves they crafted could not harness enough of the magic's power. While they tried to regain the knowledge that spanned over thousands of years, even training new summoners, they then remembered. It was much simpler than that.
The downfall of Spira wasn't the cause of weak magic, forgotten magic or even magic at all.
It was with the creation of an alternative: machinery.
"Avalon," Geosgaeno scoffed, the blinding blue light bounding off to another part of the wall. The muffled wrath of a hurricane resounded through the room as the ancient book slanted off of the table. "What a load of old crock."
The book was caught by Tidus' strong hands. The young man only seemed to roll his oceanic blue eyes as dust got all over his yellow and black attire. Carefully he made his way over to one of the many bookcases, quickly sliding open the sheet of metal and shoving the heavy records into the space. He barely got it in in time before the powerful currents made the whole room shift.
"Not a big fan of these myths and legends, are ya?" he called to the blue light. It was flitting about the walls in a fit of disgust.
"I don't hate them for being ridiculous; I'd be laughing at them if I did," Geosgaeno seethed. His rough and metallic voice couldn't startle Tidus at all, even though he was right underneath a speaker. "It's because I'm offended. All these filthy blots of ink just spread lies about us; 'Our mighty magic' this, 'Al Bhed and machina are demon spawn' that! You know what it is: it's thinly-veiled pandering to that cult they call Yevon! Sacks of saggy ol' flesh and lectures - if I had a better body…"
Tidus walked in silence back to the sitting area, channelling out another rant that his friend had gone off on. Geosgaeno was, as he often bragged, not an ordinary humanoid with pairs of bones and muscle. In spirit, he was a clump of wires and chips that powered the ship Tidus called his home. His body was the ship itself: a tons-heavy sailboat that appeared small and flashy above the water, but underneath sported a messy complex of rooms, pipes, anchors and Yevon knows what sort of strange, esoteric machinery, all on its tail end. Because of this, Tidus liked to call his ship the S.S. Iceberg, but recently stopped due to the complaints of Geosgaeno's sensitive ego.
"…then I'd rain down on them with brimstone! Flaming, scorching, gunpowder-brimmed brimstone! Those deaf ears of theirs will never hear the flames, screams and death of the whole place as their stupid temple of theirs flops onto the ground! 'Machina is Spira's downfall,' they say. They should really put their putrid warty faces to the mirror!" his voice wobbled and hesitated throughout, but his passionate malice towards Yevon's officials still remained under his poorly-constructed message. Settling down, the blue light ceased its movements and disappeared from the room for a brief second. "Anyway… we're not actually going into that place, are we?"
Tidus could only offer a pitiful smile; the irony was hysterical. "You and Auron are just hanging back until I finish my business, then we'll never have to come here again."
As if on cue, a middle-aged man wearing a large red trenchcoat had steadily descended the stairs. He came to stand beside Tidus' lounging form, peering at him with his singular functional eye.
"You should be getting ready. We are drawing near."
He blinked and muttered a thanks as he watched his other friend walk towards his bedroom in an almost curtly manner, not speaking another word. He reached down under the table and pulled out his dark blue duffel bag, double-checking to see if he had all his utilities. He quickly made his way out onto the rain-drenched deck, grabbing his coat and his large crystallised sword as he did so.
The flexible flaps stung against his wet lower legs as he observed what little he could see of St. Bevelle. The circular garden of trees whipped around as their branches were torn off, flying into either the streets or the odious crashing of the waves just below them. The city itself was as pitch black and invisible as the storm clouds themselves, save for numerous dim and struggling orange lights. The towering temple itself was partially engulfed in the black mist, both at its base and its peak. The unnatural blue lightning that flashed and crackled around it gave it a grandiose yet absolutely ominous appearance. Chills shot down Tidus' spine, and not from the cold.
He prayed to nothing in particular that no Yevonite guards, mages or anything that would be a threat to him would see the tossing of his ship upon the animalistic waters. He had been lucky to see that the borderline guards had abandoned their posts at the coming of the freak storm (or so he had hoped), but now that he was technically invading their territory, he would most certainly have to endure a cruel punishment in the event of his capturing.
Maybe more than he could handle, due to his possession of a machina ship.
He leaned against the wall of the cabin and tried to steady his breathing. Once the ship disappeared behind the vegetation he leapt for the shore. Geosgaeno threatened to leave if he didn't come back in an hour, which didn't help to calm his mood. For what felt like several hours he trudged through the sludgy outskirts of Bevelle, trying not to step into any puddles deeper than his ankles. The downpour of rain that snaked from every gap in the low-hanging willows soaked his figure and forced him to endure an excruciating irritancy in his eyes. At long last he made the final stretch to the layer of rocky outcrop, finding a small solace from the storm in the nooks of the cliffs.
Making sure he was in the right place, he pulled out a scroll which consisted of a set of vague instructions and an illustration of a stone surrounded by jagged stalagmites. The door had a strange carving on it, one that stumped all the previous owners of the scroll. Following the directions he sidled his way further across the cliff and jumped down a steep opening in a landslide. He found himself in a corroded cave, the furious tide lapping at his feet as droplets leaked in from the cracks in the walls. Towers of spiked rocks surrounded the carving in front of him, which was glowing gold.
He drew closer to the carving and studied it. To him it appeared to be a helmet of some kind. Slowly he reached out for it, and then quickly drew it back at the slightly painful reaction. Thankfully he was wearing gloves. When nothing happened after a moment, he began digging through his bag for a bottle of magic dispel. His face almost slammed into the murky water as the ground began to shake. He immediately got up and saw that the stone had disappeared to reveal a passageway.
He almost burst out laughing. "That was easy."
His amusement quickly turned into unease however, as he had soon found himself navigating a labyrinth of echoing chambers, tunnels and roaring rivers that ran underneath chasms. The only light sources had been from the weakened flashes of lightning and the beautiful yet mysterious gems dotted around the walls. Soon he began to hear other noises: chimes, creaking, clanging and even voices at one point. He thought that he was either succumbing to the hopeless atmosphere or that the place was haunted by spirits. Or worse… he was being hunted down.
He tried to keep his senses intact; there was no chance of him getting through this place with a mindset like that. After some more aimless wandering and what seemed to be like running around in circles, he came upon an unfamiliar sight: a circular room covered in mossy marble and a strange pedestal in the middle of it lay just before him. Slowly he approached it, being partially blinded by the floating orbs of light as he did so. He climbed up the tiny flight of stairs, baffled by the weird assortment of bricks, statues, glass and rings of metal before looking down at the miniscule white case in front of him.
Inside it was… the tiniest ovular mirror he had ever seen. It was coated in a vibrant aquamarine and platinum, with near-invisible symbols embedded into the handle. He could see the mixture of intrigue and slight disappointment in his expression as it reflected back onto him. Sighing he placed it into one of the pouches on his belt, once again getting distracted by the sights around him.
He was nearly startled off of the pedestal by the blaring of static in his left ear. He quickly raised his hand to it and adjusted the signal.
"Tidus! What the hell were you doing!? I've been trying to get to you for ages!" Geosgaeno showed no mercy in yelling to his absent master. "All these dead fiend corpses just swarmed around me, and now I'm hearing and seeing screaming and fiends all over the city!"
"What?" was all Tidus, the exhausted yet alarmed adventurer, could utter.
"Oh yeah, and now Auron's ran off to deal with them! You two better get your asses back here or I'll seriously bail on my own. Yevonites're gonna be down here hiding!"
He sprinted up to the labyrinth again, the signal cutting out once the rocks closed around him. He was scared not for the possibility of being seen, unlike his cowardly friend, but for Auron and the civilians themselves. No longer were they Yevonites, but victims. Prey. And all along, he had been caught up in his selfish and illegal excavation of a forgotten part of Bevelle. The revelation coming to him after seizing that mirror would have been all too symbolic.
Lost within his musings, he briefly forgot what the upcoming danger was and carelessly careened into the depths of the stream. Despite his swimming abilities, the currents proved too strong for him and he was washed away, letting them take him where they could while trying his hardest not to drown.
He was washed up somewhere within the marsh, drenched from head to toe and bleeding in a few areas. Dizziness clouded his mind as he slowly stood up. An ear-piercing scream snapped him out of it as he followed its direction.
Above the trees stood the most surreal yet gruesome two-legged fiend he had ever seen. It was about three times his size, had menacing pincers and dozens of scythe-like fins on its shoulders. It was black, purple and blue in colour, and appeared to be looking down hungrily upon an obscured woman in its claws. Tidus snuck behind one of the trees. He could hear the fiend's horrible 'click-clacking' even through the storm's onslaught.
He broke off a branch from the tree to get the fiend's attention. The sound directed its attention away from its meal. Before it could react, one of its stick-like legs had been severed by the swipe of a blade. It partially toppled to the ground, though it clung on tightly to the woman still.
It hastily twisted its worm-like body in all directions to get a good look at its attacker, but by that time he was already on its back, hacking and slashing at the translucent membrane and drawing its foul contents. He felt dominant and triumphant over the fiend's state… until its leg suddenly regenerated.
It jumped into the air and swung its boneless legs over its back, knocking Tidus off of it and into the mud. It was angered. It disposed of its meal by throwing her at him. He managed to catch and keep hold of her despite the force of the impact. Quickly he laid her down underneath the trees and stood to confront the beast.
It lunged for him with its thick muscly pincers, which he easily dodged. Hatching up a plan, he managed to climb onto its back again. This time it planted both of its claws into the ground and swung both of its legs around in an arc in an attempt to hit him. This was what he had planned. Instead of attacking back he managed to grab both of them as they neared him and, after a bit of trouble, managed to cram them both into the laceration which he had inflicted on its body. As expected, the slimy membrane healed itself and trapped both of its legs inside its own body. The fiend cried out in agony.
With its ability to stand up now lost, Tidus set off to do the same with its arms. He made a cut in its side and forced its arm through the skin until it healed up. He did the same to the other arm, being mindful of the flailing pincers. Now that it was completely defenceless… he didn't know what to do next.
It was then he noticed somebody climbing onto its back. He was carrying a large metal beam on his shoulder. After narrowing his eyes, he recognised the red trenchcoat.
Auron had simply implanted the beam into the fiend's large head, and then quickly made his way off. Moments passed… and then bolts of blue lightning struck the makeshift conductor, burning the fiend to a crisp. Its reactions slowly stopped the more it had been violated by the reckless energy, finally lying lifeless after several shocks.
The older man didn't look phased in the slightest upon reaching the younger one. "I hope you didn't mind me using a part of your ship."
Tidus just laughed in total awe of what he just saw. The lightning was still laying waste to the corpse behind them. "I guess that's one way to kill a fiend."
But this wasn't the time for jokes. Tidus crouched down and looked worriedly at the woman in front of him. She was barely conscious and was staring back at him. The lightning got him a good look of what she looked like: pale with shoulder-length brown hair, a rounded face and two different eye colours: blue and green. She was wearing what appeared to be blue and white traditional robes, and a long blue earring. He picked up his lightweight frame and continued to look at her, as if speaking to her with his eyes. She couldn't stay awake any longer and managed a tiny smile before she went limp.
Tidus shot a glance at Auron. He turned his back to him and told him that he would lead him back to the ship. Though Tidus was fully aware of the risks of carrying a citizen of Bevelle into his lair of forbidden machina, he really didn't care at the moment.
Though he planned to leave as soon as he'd arrived, though Geosgaeno would probably short-circuit himself at the sight, he forgot about all of that. Right now his plans were to see this innocent Yevonite through to health. She felt like his responsibility.