Chapter 8: Boiling Point
The streets of Bevelle were alive with the sound of whispered rumors, accusations, and conspiracy theories. The assassination attempt had rocked all of Spira, the news of the prevented attack spreading like wildfire, ear- to-ear and sphere-to-sphere. It had taken only two days for the news to trickle down from the witnesses to their friends and so on. The story of how the newest Auroch killed the two Crusader guards with more agility and speed than he had shown in the Annual Tournament was enthralling commoners and politicians alike. The hushed talk of the 'Blitzball Soldier' reached across every street, path, and alleyway it could find and had even already made it into historical manuscripts at the temples.
The attempt both shocked and unnerved Yuna's followers and even upset the Yevonites, to a degree. An attempt on someone's life, in cold blood, went against the teachings, thus making both Yevonites and Yuna's followers wonder as to who was -truly- to blame.
The Crusaders were, of course, getting questioned and probed and talk of disbandment was circulating just as fast as the account of the attempt. The security forces made up of Crusaders were in danger of being stripped of their duty and sent back to their respective homes, making the common people of the larger towns, Luca and Bevelle especially, antsy as to the condition and morale of their city's protection.
Nyka, who had taken the positive acknowledgment for handling the assassination attempt well by most of Spira's citizens, was promising that, if the Bevelle council would be given more power, the protection of an army would be instated, and the people would no longer have any worries. He also stressed that the army would be made up of good, proud, and well-trained Yevonite men.
His speech was empowered with appeal to the Yevon ideals, to which a lot of former believers were returning to, in light of recent events. An almost militaristic vein took a back burner to attaining support for putting himself into power.
Nyka cleared his throat, looking down upon the thousands and thousands of people staring up at him, waiting for his take on the recent events.
"My dear, dear Bevellians, Yevonites, and supporters. Two days ago, two Crusader guards tried to take the life of Maestress Yuna, daughter of High Summoner Braska. Thanks to the timely efforts of one of her cohorts, she is alive today. But, my friends, my fellow believers, this incident marks a new and changing era for the lands of Yevon. The Crusaders, always thought to be heathenish, have tried to commit an act against Yevon: Murder in the coldest degree. A calculated, planned, and focused attack on a powerful and loved figure in Spira. The Crusaders are blasphemous. Now, I do know that only two of thousands committed the act, but I must stress that one rotten apple ruins the -entire- bunch. These two men would not have even had the chance, had their comrades kept them in line. This shows all of Spira that the Crusaders can -not- be trusted any longer. They -must- be disbanded, for the sake of Spira.
"Now, on to merrier topics. Hear me, Bevellians, Yevonites, and all of Spira. I have a vision. I see a Spira with a spiritually charged army of Proud Yevonites. An army made up of men proud to serve the will of Yevon and protect Yevon's cities. An army that will help save lives rather than take them. And with great leaders at its helm, this army will make Spira and Yevon proud.
"But alas, my friends, my fellow citizens, this vision can not be realized without -your- support. The Council will set forth a motion, and in one week's time, the Councilmen will vote on this motion. Please, inform your councilman of which way you'd like him to vote.
"It is my hope to bring order and joy back to Spira's -true- people. As leader of the United Councils, I promise only the best to come, my friends. Spira will be a fellowship once more, one based on trust, loyalty, and spiritual conscience. Thank you." Of course, the crowd erupted into cheers and praise below the Bevelle Temple's veranda, since most of the audience was the concentrated Youth Alliance members, nearly the entire Yevon supporting populous of Bevelle. The Council members were all seated behind the standing form of Nyka, including Fagan.
Fagan twitched in his seat. He knew the underlying message of the promising rhetoric Nyka fed the people. It was clear as a bright summer's day. Nyka wanted power, and when he had that power -which Fagan had no doubt Nyka would attain soon-, he'd go after all those that oppose him.
The cheers soon calmed as the people of Bevelle returned to their daily lives, the Sphere-recorders from Luca leaving for their boats, and the other visitors walking, riding, or boating back to their respective areas. Nyka turned to the Councilmen, grinning.
"I say we have a fair chance of bringing the people what we promise, would you not agree, Fagan?"
The young councilman jumped at the mention of his name, nodding quickly in response, but still lost in his own thoughts.
"Good. Now, gentlemen. I want each of you to go to your districts and 'listen' to your people. I want this army, and I want it yesterday, understand?"
A hushed agreement was given to the standing Nyka and the men began to file out of the veranda.
Fagan's thin shoulders were almost through the wide doorframe, but a tight grip on his shoulder turned him around, surprising the wiry young man.
"Don't be so jumpy, Fagan." Nyka grinned, his steely gray eyes locking onto Fagan's milky hazels.
Fagan cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes, sir."
"You look tense, young one. Troubles?"
"No, sir."
"You know what Yevon says about lying, don't you, my dear Fagan?"
" 'To lie is to give into the temptation that befell Spira and the same temptation that which caused Sin to arise.' "
"Good. Now, tell the truth, Fagan."
"I'm nervous, sir."
"Over what, my dear boy?"
"This whole...situation. The army, the failed assassination attempt."
"You fear for such little of circumstances, Fagan. You mustn't worry. Everything will all fall into our hands. We are Yevon's will, his messengers. This is what he wills, and we will obey, correct? We must serve Yevon as he will serve us once we reach the Farplane."
Fagan nodded meekly and stepped out, shaking off the unnerving feeling he was getting. Something just didn't settle right with him. He made his way down the large stone steps and turned onto a road that would lead him back to his home.
--------------------
Weston sighed, his back aching from having to pull the heavy luggage from the ship.
"You helped with the renovations well, Weston. Jus', we need the work on the ship now, as it's operational once more, ya?"
"'Ya'," mocked Weston, who's face had gone red, beads of sweat falling down his forehead. Wakka could tell the young man was tired and took the trunk from him.
"Thanks," Weston barely managed.
"You tire too easily, eh?"
"I've been working since dawn. It's nearly...three in the afternoon. I haven't even had lunch yet."
"Hey, don't blame me, you're the one who loves to work so hard."
"Eh..." and the rest was muddled as Weston walked away, leaving Wakka to take care of the rest of the heavy trunks.
Jassu, whose hands were full of fruit baskets, nodded towards the shrinking form of Weston.
"Sup with him?"
"I dunno. He's been real irritable since the 'incident'."
"Ya. Guess killin' two guys'll do that to ya."
"I dun think it's that, Jassu. He...did it so easily, ya know? Just, -boom- and they were dead. I hardly saw him move."
"Ya...You hear about what's happenin' in Bevelle? That prick Nyka is trying to get an Army of Yevon formed. What's he thinkin'?"
Wakka raised an eyebrow." You tryin' to pull my leg? Nyka's trying to get an Army?" "Yup. Heard about it from a sphere my nephew took while in Bevelle. Got the whole speech. Let you hear it later."
Wakka, still stunned from the news, only stood there, mouth open, a large trunk teetering back and forth on his shoulder.
Jassu grinned and shook his head. "We can view it at the temple later, with everyone there."
Wakka nodded slowly and set the trunk down, not worrying over it as he began a dead run to Yuna's hut.
--------------------
Yuna sighed as she looked out to the ocean. Her hut had a nice view of the shore, and the surging tide was surely helping the view gain the young girl's full attention.
A sigh escaped from within and her hands came up to wipe away a few stifled tears. Her chin was quivering, and she was trying not to let her thoughts get to her. Her mind shifted, from that night, in the woods, to how she was going to deal with the mounting pressure.
The sigh grew into a moan, and a sob crept its way up to her throat. From there, it only got worse. Her pillar, Tidus, was gone forever, as far as she was concerned. As her hope of his return had died, so did a little piece of the young girl that had fallen in love with the Zanarkand native. As she grew older, wiser, she began to look at things with that analytical side that only a hardened soul could utilize. Gone was the intuitive, hopeful young Summoner, and in its place was a tortured, hardening young woman who would have to make some of the biggest decisions of her life in the next few months.
But, she'd have to make it through today before moving on, and Wakka was about to bring her grave news.
--------------------
The small sphere whirred, and the image faded. Yuna stood there, eyes locked to the small viewing device, her mouth open from shock.
Weston smirked. "Even Spira has its dictators."
Yuna, Lulu, and Wakka shot him a cold glance and his smirk faded.
Yuna's soft voice filled the hush that followed afterwards. "He's going too far." Wakka nodded, and crossed his arms, fingers stroking his chin. "But why would he need an Army? Don't make any sense."
Weston sighed and walked around in the small temple book room, eyes fixed to the sphere. "It's simple, really. He wants to spread his "word" all over Spira. And he's taking the easy way out: violence. He's going to move that army and forcibly take towns, forcing his rule on people who aren't even followers of the Yevon religion. Oldest trick in the book..."
The others looked to him, as if signaling him to go on.
Weston hmmed and continued, after melding the thoughts in his head into plausible sentences. "He'll get this army, I know it. That speech could swoon anyone not smart enough to follow politics..." Weston looked to Yuna. "You do know what this means, don't you?"
Yuna jumped, looking a little surprised. "W..what?"
Weston's countenance went a few more shades serious. "If you don't do something to counteract his move, all of Spira will be Nyka's for the taking."
Yuna sighed, already knowing what Weston was getting at. "I don't want to provoke him. I want to talk to him civilly. There's no need for violence, and doing anything along the same lines as he is will just result in more conflict."
Weston sighed, groaning to himself. "Yuna, the world is shaped, molded with blood. Conflict feeds conflict, a life for a life. Violence has always been and always will be the only deciding factor in world politics. Words mean nothing without action. You can sign treaties, you can make promises, but you can't stop death and destruction from becoming the key solution to your problem in the end. You can put a veil over it, but it's still there, no matter how much you want to believe otherwise."
Yuna's face grew slightly red and Weston took this as his queue to vacate. A few moments later, Weston's face met the sunny afternoon sky.
--------------------
"So it's decided. I'll visit Nyka and talk with him about this army. I'll get the information straight from him."
Wakka and Lulu patted Yuna's shoulders and smiled. A moment later, Yuna boarded Cid's airship and was on her way to Bevelle.
Wakka turned to Lulu and sighed. "I dun like this Lu. I dun like this one bit."
Lulu sighed as well, nodding. "Neither do I. I have a feeling that this won't end in a simple conversation."
Wakka looked to the sky, eyes squinting in the bright light. "They dun make conversations complex enough to solve this..."
--------------------
Weston sighed, watching the airship leave from his squatted position on the beach. Once it was out of view, his gaze turned to the ocean. Every ripple reflected the sunlight, causing Weston's eyes to squint. It was hard for him to focus on the water, so he turned his attention to his palms. Despite it being so warm, his skin was covered in goose bumps and his fingers were spasming uncontrollably. Something had awakened in Weston the day of the assassination attempt. It wasn't necessarily a flame or an urge, but a queasy uneasiness, almost as if he were awaiting something to happen. Weston's skills as a soldier were only three years strong, but his training was top notch, and there was no denying it. He had had this feeling before.
The anxiousness any semi-green soldier had before a mission was famous. He had felt it in Columbia and in Hong Kong. When he dropped into the Mayan ruins, hunting for the downed fighter pilots, his heart was in his chest and he could barely control his spasms. But, once his feet hit ground, and his eyes focused on the dense jungle ahead, he had cleared his mind, his M4 Carbine becoming just an extension of his arms, the fifty or so pounds on his back child's play.
And then, he saw them. Two brown, gleaming eyes staring back at him, AK raising, ready to put a few bullets into Weston's body. The reaction had taken less than a millisecond, and those two eyes rolled back, the AK flying into the air. A dense cloud, mostly consisting of spent blood and brain matter, float up into the air. A sickening gargling sound came from the dying man's throat as Weston approached the fallen Rebel. Those brown eyes rolled back and fixed onto Weston's own. The emotion was unmistakable: shock. Weston fired a shot into the man's forehead, and the eyes ceased to glimmer. Weston closed his eyes and buried the emotions deep in his mind, his only goal to complete the mission. Those eyes, however, would forever haunt him.
It was those eyes he saw every time he looked at his palms. One eye to each of his pale, large palms. The eyes had that same expression: shock. But they also shone with an overbearing guilt. A guilt that grew heavier on Weston with each kill.
These past two kills had been extremely easy. It was obvious the men weren't military, meaning that they weren't 'Crusaders' as Yuna had called them. They were just hired men dressed in stolen uniforms. Obviously, one of Nyka's tricks.
Weston growled, squinting his eyes into the sun, a bit of bile coming into the back of his throat, as he grew angrier. Yuna wouldn't listen to him until it was too late. Weston just wondered how many people were going to die before Yuna would wise up.
--------------------
"Maestress Yuna, what a pleasant surprise. How are you?"
Yuna smiled to the aging form of Nyka. "I'm fine, but a little worried."
"My, my, child. We cannot have the most beloved figure in all of Spira worried. Please, sit, and tell me what you're worried about."
The old council leader sat and motioned to a seat across from the large wooden desk he sat behind.
Yuna smiled and nodded, picking up her skirt and sitting politely. Nyka smiled and motioned for her to begin.
Yuna bit her bottom lip and cleared her throat before finally speaking. "I'm worried over reports that you're trying to form an army..."
"Why worry over that, child? The Crusaders have broken the law, and I believe an army of truehearted men would serve this city better. It's merely for this city's protection."
Yuna sighed, obviously relieved.
Nyka smiled. "Is that all?"
She nodded and he stood, smiling. "Glad I could help. Why don't you stay in town awhile? I'll arrange for a hotel room."
She nodded once more, not wanting to seem evasive. "Well, I'd have to contact my friends..."
He grinned. "Of course. Take all the time you need."
She bowed and left the office. Nyka sat down and frowned, shuffling some papers on his desk. He called to his assistant, who immediately rushed to his side.
"Get the hotel situated...and talk to my grandson, Logan, the merchant. Tell him to be at Hotel Bevelle's bar in two hours."
"Yessir."
"And, if he asks, tell him he's to meet with Yuna. That should get him pretty excited."
"Yessir."
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"Get me a photographer...I feel I need some sphere-shots to go onto support posters."
The assistant nodded. "Yessir, right away." The young man left without another peep.
--------------------
Yuna sighed and sat down at the large wooden bar, wondering why Nyka had insisted she be here at exactly six. She didn't have to wait for long.
A young, wispy haired gentleman barged in and sat down right next to her with a smile. He introduced himself as Logan, Lord Nyka's eldest grandson. Of course, she was as polite as she could be, smiling and conversing with this Logan for some time.
After about an hour of mainly his babbling on and on about his business, she told him she was quite tired and needed her rest. He smiled and asked something she wasn't really ready for.
"Before you go, can I have one kiss from you, Lady Summoner? You've done so much good for Spira, I just can't help but want tell everyone at the shop that I've kissed the great Lady Yuna."
Yuna smiled and lightly pecked his lips. His cheeks blushed and he left with a smile, leaving her to make the trip up two flights of stairs to her nicely endowed suite, courtesy of Nyka.
She collapsed onto the bed, not bothering with her clothes, and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.
--------------------
"You've taken the pictures?"
"Yes, of course."
"Can I have them by tomorrow. I'll be making an announcement at three."
"You'll have them by noon, guaranteed."
"Good, you've done well."
"Thank you, my lord."
--------------------
Sorry this took so long. I'd explain, but it'd take years. Lemme just sum it up: School, Strep Throat, Family Illness, Kingdom Hearts ^^ and Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. Anyway, expect Chapter 9 very soon, because I've been writing ahead these past two months or so. I've got snippets of chapters all the way up to 20 ^^ Sorry again, and I'll promise to be quicker about the next few updates. ~ No One
The streets of Bevelle were alive with the sound of whispered rumors, accusations, and conspiracy theories. The assassination attempt had rocked all of Spira, the news of the prevented attack spreading like wildfire, ear- to-ear and sphere-to-sphere. It had taken only two days for the news to trickle down from the witnesses to their friends and so on. The story of how the newest Auroch killed the two Crusader guards with more agility and speed than he had shown in the Annual Tournament was enthralling commoners and politicians alike. The hushed talk of the 'Blitzball Soldier' reached across every street, path, and alleyway it could find and had even already made it into historical manuscripts at the temples.
The attempt both shocked and unnerved Yuna's followers and even upset the Yevonites, to a degree. An attempt on someone's life, in cold blood, went against the teachings, thus making both Yevonites and Yuna's followers wonder as to who was -truly- to blame.
The Crusaders were, of course, getting questioned and probed and talk of disbandment was circulating just as fast as the account of the attempt. The security forces made up of Crusaders were in danger of being stripped of their duty and sent back to their respective homes, making the common people of the larger towns, Luca and Bevelle especially, antsy as to the condition and morale of their city's protection.
Nyka, who had taken the positive acknowledgment for handling the assassination attempt well by most of Spira's citizens, was promising that, if the Bevelle council would be given more power, the protection of an army would be instated, and the people would no longer have any worries. He also stressed that the army would be made up of good, proud, and well-trained Yevonite men.
His speech was empowered with appeal to the Yevon ideals, to which a lot of former believers were returning to, in light of recent events. An almost militaristic vein took a back burner to attaining support for putting himself into power.
Nyka cleared his throat, looking down upon the thousands and thousands of people staring up at him, waiting for his take on the recent events.
"My dear, dear Bevellians, Yevonites, and supporters. Two days ago, two Crusader guards tried to take the life of Maestress Yuna, daughter of High Summoner Braska. Thanks to the timely efforts of one of her cohorts, she is alive today. But, my friends, my fellow believers, this incident marks a new and changing era for the lands of Yevon. The Crusaders, always thought to be heathenish, have tried to commit an act against Yevon: Murder in the coldest degree. A calculated, planned, and focused attack on a powerful and loved figure in Spira. The Crusaders are blasphemous. Now, I do know that only two of thousands committed the act, but I must stress that one rotten apple ruins the -entire- bunch. These two men would not have even had the chance, had their comrades kept them in line. This shows all of Spira that the Crusaders can -not- be trusted any longer. They -must- be disbanded, for the sake of Spira.
"Now, on to merrier topics. Hear me, Bevellians, Yevonites, and all of Spira. I have a vision. I see a Spira with a spiritually charged army of Proud Yevonites. An army made up of men proud to serve the will of Yevon and protect Yevon's cities. An army that will help save lives rather than take them. And with great leaders at its helm, this army will make Spira and Yevon proud.
"But alas, my friends, my fellow citizens, this vision can not be realized without -your- support. The Council will set forth a motion, and in one week's time, the Councilmen will vote on this motion. Please, inform your councilman of which way you'd like him to vote.
"It is my hope to bring order and joy back to Spira's -true- people. As leader of the United Councils, I promise only the best to come, my friends. Spira will be a fellowship once more, one based on trust, loyalty, and spiritual conscience. Thank you." Of course, the crowd erupted into cheers and praise below the Bevelle Temple's veranda, since most of the audience was the concentrated Youth Alliance members, nearly the entire Yevon supporting populous of Bevelle. The Council members were all seated behind the standing form of Nyka, including Fagan.
Fagan twitched in his seat. He knew the underlying message of the promising rhetoric Nyka fed the people. It was clear as a bright summer's day. Nyka wanted power, and when he had that power -which Fagan had no doubt Nyka would attain soon-, he'd go after all those that oppose him.
The cheers soon calmed as the people of Bevelle returned to their daily lives, the Sphere-recorders from Luca leaving for their boats, and the other visitors walking, riding, or boating back to their respective areas. Nyka turned to the Councilmen, grinning.
"I say we have a fair chance of bringing the people what we promise, would you not agree, Fagan?"
The young councilman jumped at the mention of his name, nodding quickly in response, but still lost in his own thoughts.
"Good. Now, gentlemen. I want each of you to go to your districts and 'listen' to your people. I want this army, and I want it yesterday, understand?"
A hushed agreement was given to the standing Nyka and the men began to file out of the veranda.
Fagan's thin shoulders were almost through the wide doorframe, but a tight grip on his shoulder turned him around, surprising the wiry young man.
"Don't be so jumpy, Fagan." Nyka grinned, his steely gray eyes locking onto Fagan's milky hazels.
Fagan cleared his throat and nodded. "Yes, sir."
"You look tense, young one. Troubles?"
"No, sir."
"You know what Yevon says about lying, don't you, my dear Fagan?"
" 'To lie is to give into the temptation that befell Spira and the same temptation that which caused Sin to arise.' "
"Good. Now, tell the truth, Fagan."
"I'm nervous, sir."
"Over what, my dear boy?"
"This whole...situation. The army, the failed assassination attempt."
"You fear for such little of circumstances, Fagan. You mustn't worry. Everything will all fall into our hands. We are Yevon's will, his messengers. This is what he wills, and we will obey, correct? We must serve Yevon as he will serve us once we reach the Farplane."
Fagan nodded meekly and stepped out, shaking off the unnerving feeling he was getting. Something just didn't settle right with him. He made his way down the large stone steps and turned onto a road that would lead him back to his home.
--------------------
Weston sighed, his back aching from having to pull the heavy luggage from the ship.
"You helped with the renovations well, Weston. Jus', we need the work on the ship now, as it's operational once more, ya?"
"'Ya'," mocked Weston, who's face had gone red, beads of sweat falling down his forehead. Wakka could tell the young man was tired and took the trunk from him.
"Thanks," Weston barely managed.
"You tire too easily, eh?"
"I've been working since dawn. It's nearly...three in the afternoon. I haven't even had lunch yet."
"Hey, don't blame me, you're the one who loves to work so hard."
"Eh..." and the rest was muddled as Weston walked away, leaving Wakka to take care of the rest of the heavy trunks.
Jassu, whose hands were full of fruit baskets, nodded towards the shrinking form of Weston.
"Sup with him?"
"I dunno. He's been real irritable since the 'incident'."
"Ya. Guess killin' two guys'll do that to ya."
"I dun think it's that, Jassu. He...did it so easily, ya know? Just, -boom- and they were dead. I hardly saw him move."
"Ya...You hear about what's happenin' in Bevelle? That prick Nyka is trying to get an Army of Yevon formed. What's he thinkin'?"
Wakka raised an eyebrow." You tryin' to pull my leg? Nyka's trying to get an Army?" "Yup. Heard about it from a sphere my nephew took while in Bevelle. Got the whole speech. Let you hear it later."
Wakka, still stunned from the news, only stood there, mouth open, a large trunk teetering back and forth on his shoulder.
Jassu grinned and shook his head. "We can view it at the temple later, with everyone there."
Wakka nodded slowly and set the trunk down, not worrying over it as he began a dead run to Yuna's hut.
--------------------
Yuna sighed as she looked out to the ocean. Her hut had a nice view of the shore, and the surging tide was surely helping the view gain the young girl's full attention.
A sigh escaped from within and her hands came up to wipe away a few stifled tears. Her chin was quivering, and she was trying not to let her thoughts get to her. Her mind shifted, from that night, in the woods, to how she was going to deal with the mounting pressure.
The sigh grew into a moan, and a sob crept its way up to her throat. From there, it only got worse. Her pillar, Tidus, was gone forever, as far as she was concerned. As her hope of his return had died, so did a little piece of the young girl that had fallen in love with the Zanarkand native. As she grew older, wiser, she began to look at things with that analytical side that only a hardened soul could utilize. Gone was the intuitive, hopeful young Summoner, and in its place was a tortured, hardening young woman who would have to make some of the biggest decisions of her life in the next few months.
But, she'd have to make it through today before moving on, and Wakka was about to bring her grave news.
--------------------
The small sphere whirred, and the image faded. Yuna stood there, eyes locked to the small viewing device, her mouth open from shock.
Weston smirked. "Even Spira has its dictators."
Yuna, Lulu, and Wakka shot him a cold glance and his smirk faded.
Yuna's soft voice filled the hush that followed afterwards. "He's going too far." Wakka nodded, and crossed his arms, fingers stroking his chin. "But why would he need an Army? Don't make any sense."
Weston sighed and walked around in the small temple book room, eyes fixed to the sphere. "It's simple, really. He wants to spread his "word" all over Spira. And he's taking the easy way out: violence. He's going to move that army and forcibly take towns, forcing his rule on people who aren't even followers of the Yevon religion. Oldest trick in the book..."
The others looked to him, as if signaling him to go on.
Weston hmmed and continued, after melding the thoughts in his head into plausible sentences. "He'll get this army, I know it. That speech could swoon anyone not smart enough to follow politics..." Weston looked to Yuna. "You do know what this means, don't you?"
Yuna jumped, looking a little surprised. "W..what?"
Weston's countenance went a few more shades serious. "If you don't do something to counteract his move, all of Spira will be Nyka's for the taking."
Yuna sighed, already knowing what Weston was getting at. "I don't want to provoke him. I want to talk to him civilly. There's no need for violence, and doing anything along the same lines as he is will just result in more conflict."
Weston sighed, groaning to himself. "Yuna, the world is shaped, molded with blood. Conflict feeds conflict, a life for a life. Violence has always been and always will be the only deciding factor in world politics. Words mean nothing without action. You can sign treaties, you can make promises, but you can't stop death and destruction from becoming the key solution to your problem in the end. You can put a veil over it, but it's still there, no matter how much you want to believe otherwise."
Yuna's face grew slightly red and Weston took this as his queue to vacate. A few moments later, Weston's face met the sunny afternoon sky.
--------------------
"So it's decided. I'll visit Nyka and talk with him about this army. I'll get the information straight from him."
Wakka and Lulu patted Yuna's shoulders and smiled. A moment later, Yuna boarded Cid's airship and was on her way to Bevelle.
Wakka turned to Lulu and sighed. "I dun like this Lu. I dun like this one bit."
Lulu sighed as well, nodding. "Neither do I. I have a feeling that this won't end in a simple conversation."
Wakka looked to the sky, eyes squinting in the bright light. "They dun make conversations complex enough to solve this..."
--------------------
Weston sighed, watching the airship leave from his squatted position on the beach. Once it was out of view, his gaze turned to the ocean. Every ripple reflected the sunlight, causing Weston's eyes to squint. It was hard for him to focus on the water, so he turned his attention to his palms. Despite it being so warm, his skin was covered in goose bumps and his fingers were spasming uncontrollably. Something had awakened in Weston the day of the assassination attempt. It wasn't necessarily a flame or an urge, but a queasy uneasiness, almost as if he were awaiting something to happen. Weston's skills as a soldier were only three years strong, but his training was top notch, and there was no denying it. He had had this feeling before.
The anxiousness any semi-green soldier had before a mission was famous. He had felt it in Columbia and in Hong Kong. When he dropped into the Mayan ruins, hunting for the downed fighter pilots, his heart was in his chest and he could barely control his spasms. But, once his feet hit ground, and his eyes focused on the dense jungle ahead, he had cleared his mind, his M4 Carbine becoming just an extension of his arms, the fifty or so pounds on his back child's play.
And then, he saw them. Two brown, gleaming eyes staring back at him, AK raising, ready to put a few bullets into Weston's body. The reaction had taken less than a millisecond, and those two eyes rolled back, the AK flying into the air. A dense cloud, mostly consisting of spent blood and brain matter, float up into the air. A sickening gargling sound came from the dying man's throat as Weston approached the fallen Rebel. Those brown eyes rolled back and fixed onto Weston's own. The emotion was unmistakable: shock. Weston fired a shot into the man's forehead, and the eyes ceased to glimmer. Weston closed his eyes and buried the emotions deep in his mind, his only goal to complete the mission. Those eyes, however, would forever haunt him.
It was those eyes he saw every time he looked at his palms. One eye to each of his pale, large palms. The eyes had that same expression: shock. But they also shone with an overbearing guilt. A guilt that grew heavier on Weston with each kill.
These past two kills had been extremely easy. It was obvious the men weren't military, meaning that they weren't 'Crusaders' as Yuna had called them. They were just hired men dressed in stolen uniforms. Obviously, one of Nyka's tricks.
Weston growled, squinting his eyes into the sun, a bit of bile coming into the back of his throat, as he grew angrier. Yuna wouldn't listen to him until it was too late. Weston just wondered how many people were going to die before Yuna would wise up.
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"Maestress Yuna, what a pleasant surprise. How are you?"
Yuna smiled to the aging form of Nyka. "I'm fine, but a little worried."
"My, my, child. We cannot have the most beloved figure in all of Spira worried. Please, sit, and tell me what you're worried about."
The old council leader sat and motioned to a seat across from the large wooden desk he sat behind.
Yuna smiled and nodded, picking up her skirt and sitting politely. Nyka smiled and motioned for her to begin.
Yuna bit her bottom lip and cleared her throat before finally speaking. "I'm worried over reports that you're trying to form an army..."
"Why worry over that, child? The Crusaders have broken the law, and I believe an army of truehearted men would serve this city better. It's merely for this city's protection."
Yuna sighed, obviously relieved.
Nyka smiled. "Is that all?"
She nodded and he stood, smiling. "Glad I could help. Why don't you stay in town awhile? I'll arrange for a hotel room."
She nodded once more, not wanting to seem evasive. "Well, I'd have to contact my friends..."
He grinned. "Of course. Take all the time you need."
She bowed and left the office. Nyka sat down and frowned, shuffling some papers on his desk. He called to his assistant, who immediately rushed to his side.
"Get the hotel situated...and talk to my grandson, Logan, the merchant. Tell him to be at Hotel Bevelle's bar in two hours."
"Yessir."
"And, if he asks, tell him he's to meet with Yuna. That should get him pretty excited."
"Yessir."
"One more thing."
"Yes?"
"Get me a photographer...I feel I need some sphere-shots to go onto support posters."
The assistant nodded. "Yessir, right away." The young man left without another peep.
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Yuna sighed and sat down at the large wooden bar, wondering why Nyka had insisted she be here at exactly six. She didn't have to wait for long.
A young, wispy haired gentleman barged in and sat down right next to her with a smile. He introduced himself as Logan, Lord Nyka's eldest grandson. Of course, she was as polite as she could be, smiling and conversing with this Logan for some time.
After about an hour of mainly his babbling on and on about his business, she told him she was quite tired and needed her rest. He smiled and asked something she wasn't really ready for.
"Before you go, can I have one kiss from you, Lady Summoner? You've done so much good for Spira, I just can't help but want tell everyone at the shop that I've kissed the great Lady Yuna."
Yuna smiled and lightly pecked his lips. His cheeks blushed and he left with a smile, leaving her to make the trip up two flights of stairs to her nicely endowed suite, courtesy of Nyka.
She collapsed onto the bed, not bothering with her clothes, and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.
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"You've taken the pictures?"
"Yes, of course."
"Can I have them by tomorrow. I'll be making an announcement at three."
"You'll have them by noon, guaranteed."
"Good, you've done well."
"Thank you, my lord."
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Sorry this took so long. I'd explain, but it'd take years. Lemme just sum it up: School, Strep Throat, Family Illness, Kingdom Hearts ^^ and Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. Anyway, expect Chapter 9 very soon, because I've been writing ahead these past two months or so. I've got snippets of chapters all the way up to 20 ^^ Sorry again, and I'll promise to be quicker about the next few updates. ~ No One
