DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the FFX characters or settings. FFX is copyrighted to Squaresoft. There, I did the disclaimer thing. So ya can't sue me now! :P

A Starry Sky
The tale of Auron's journey with Lord Braska
A fan-fiction written by Kryzilya a.k.a. Farin Hawkeye a.k.a. C.J.S.

~Chapter One~
Perfect

Auron stripped his red coat off his body, letting it fall into a crimson heap at his feet. Kicking off his boots and pants, his shirt soon followed. Long raven hair was let loose, cascading around his broad shoulders like a black waterfall over pale rocks. For a man who usually took his time when doing things, he moved awfully fast towards the large pond in front of him, nearly leaping into the water.
He didn't hear Braska's laughs until he surfaced in a much deeper area, teeth chattering. A glare was set into his eyes as he turned to face the chuckling Summoner, who was wrapped up in a thick blue cloak.
I told you it was cold, Auron, Braska said when he had regained his usual noble self, although there was the ever-present hint of amusement in his voice. But, of course, you never listen. . .
A flicker of red crossed the young Guardian's cheeks. I-i-it isn't c-c-col-ld. J-jus-st a-a bi-i-it chi-i-lly, t-t-that's all.
Now, now. . . no use trying to hide it. You already look like you're freezing. Come back to the shore, Braska's tone was now less amused and more towards the caring side. I wouldn't want one of my Guardians to get ill. Especially not now. . . we're so close to the Calm Lands, after all. All that's left is that, and then Mount Gagazet. And then. . . our final destination.
Auron shivered -- though not from the cold of the water. He was having second thoughts about Zanarkand. He didn't want to see Braska go. Braska wasn't just his Summoner, but he was his friend. His buddy. His source of comfort. And to see him go -- to even think about it -- would be unbearable.
He shook off the thoughts just as he shook off the water as he walked ashore. Grabbing one of the thick cloaks from Braska's outstretched hand, he wrapped it around himself and sat upon the soil. The ground was cold, yes, but the black cloak was made out of some furry fabric -- soft and warm at the same time. It covered every inch of his body, and even though it probably made him look like a big fuzzy blob of dirt, it was comfortable.
Auron's russet eyes drifted towards the starry sky above the cold lake. The lake itself looked like a giant mirror, for it reflected the crescent moon almost perfectly, as well as the many stars. The water almost seemed to glow. It was untouched by wind -- even if it was windy, the numerous trees blocked off any gust of air. It was so untouched. . . so silent. . . so perfect. . . so beautiful. . .
Braska's voice shattered his concentration, causing him to jump up a few inches off the ground -- and making his heart beat faster than he could recall it ever had.
Y-y-yes? I'm sorry, my lord, I'm sorry. . . I just. . . I was just thinking. I'm sorry, Lord Braska.
Now, now, the amusement flickered in his voice again. No need to apologize for thinking. Only, if you'd tell me. . . what were you thinking about?
Just how. . . perfect things are. Here, I mean. Right now. So quiet and so untouched. It's. . . beautiful. Before he knew what he was doing, Auron had hurled himself into Braska's arms, crying against his shoulder.
His thoughts were so mixed up -- Why does Braska need to sacrifice himself? What the hell is Jecht's problem with me? Where'd Jecht come from, anyway? And how'd he get here? And why'd Braska need to haul him along? And why am I thinking about all of this? Oh, god, am I crying? In front of BRASKA? Someone cut my head off, please. . . Oh, stop crying, stupid baby. . . Can't I even control myself? I'm a full-grown man, am I not? I need to stop. . . need to stop. . .
Just as Braska was beginning to pet his shoulder softly, Auron shoved him away. A vicious look in his eyes -- a dangerous mood. Wiping the tears from his face furiously, he screamed. Out into the air, across the lake. Pure nothingness was in his words -- angry, frustrated words. His face was flushed a deep red, hair in a mess around his face.
He didn't stop until he noticed that Braska was cowering against the ground, staring up at him with scared eyes. Immediately, the young Guardian stooped down, mumbling I'm so sorry's and I'm sorry, Lord Braska's as he wrapped his arms around the Summoner, holding him close. He had never seen Braska like that before. Never cowering. Never scared. Always noble. Always strong. He never wanted to see his Lord like this again. Ever.
Braska had regained himself, pushing Auron away gently and rising to his feet, cloak still pulled tightly around his body. He looked regal again as he stared down at his Guardian. It was Auron's time to cower against the ground now.
Don't worry, Auron, I forgive you. Everyone has those moments, do they not? Braska's voice was cool and calm and, as usual, kind. He didn't sound the slightest bit angry, as Auron had feared he might be. Just promise me one thing? When Auron gave a small nod, he continued on, Try to control yourself. And if you need to let it out, don't do it like that. Tell me, and I'll listen. I promise to listen as long as you promise to not. . . go off like that again.
Lord Braska gave Auron a flicker of a smile, then walked off, leaving the Guardian with his rump planted into the dirt. Auron wiped his brow with his right hand. He started shivering again. . . close to tears. But, no, if Braska saw him. . . he had to keep his promise. Learn to control yourself, man. No more tears. No more screaming. No more thinking about things like that.
It was Jecht's gruff voice that broke the silence this time. Me and Braska are goin' to sleep. . . you coming? His tone changed a little -- more concerned that usual. The first time Auron had heard him like that. Except when he had recorded the sphere, that is. Hey, you okay? You don't look so good. . .
Auron looked up with dead eyes. Dark and blank and expressionless. He did look rather sickly -- his skin was more pale than usual, and his eyes. . . it was as if his soul was gone. But a smile appeared on his face. It was obviously forced -- not that Jecht noticed. . . He never notices anything. . .
Yeah, I'm fine, Jecht. Go on to bed. I'll be there in a minute.
Auron watched Jecht until he was out of sight, then let his body relax. He stood up slowly, brushing the dirt from his cloak and bending down to collect his pile of clothes. A sudden wave of tiredness came over him, and he turned to head back to their makeshift camp. But he stopped before he took a step, looking over his shoulder at the sky. The stars. The moon. The lake. The reflections. The beauty.
How ironic that such an imperfect night had to occur in such a perfect place.

So, how was it? Good? Bad? So-So? Anything I should change? Anything I should keep doing? Please, for the love of whatever diety that's up there (if there is one), LEAVE A REVIEW! I appreciate any constructive critisism I can get. . . Just be nice. :P