Disclaimer: See chapter one.

Chapter 14

I had no idea what to do. How long do I stay? If something happened to Braska, was I allowed to break into the Chamber of the Fayth to get him out? Could I even break in if I wanted to, or would the door recognize me as an intruder and strike me down? Was there a point when I was supposed to leave? Summoners had been known to stay inside the Chamber for up to a day in the past, but things like this didn't normally happen. Do I tell someone? What do I do? I looked at Jecht. Why do you make everything so difficult

As if he could hear my thoughts, his body suddenly gave one big twitch, and Ixion began emerging from his chest, thankfully at a much slower pace than he had leapt into it. I crawled backwards as fast as I could, only stopping when my back hit the wall. Ixion didn't spare me so much as a glance. He just stepped to Jecht's side, shook his hooves as if they were wet, and walked through the door back into the Chamber of the Fayth. Jecht began stirring again almost immediately.

"Mwuh? Wha happen?"

"You tell me," I said, going back over to him on hands and knees. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," He blinked hard. "Yeah. It…it feels like I just met someone who I haven't seen in a long time. They were sad."

"Sad?"

"Yeah, or homesick maybe? I dunno man, it was all so clear a second ago, but it's like tryin' to hold water, ya know? It's all…" he cupped his hand in the air and then spread his fingers apart. "It was so clear a second ago."

"Never mind that. Are you alright? Can you move? Are you dizzy?"

"Yes. No. Just tired. Stop askin' so many questions." He batted weakly at my arm.

"At least come sit against the wall instead of sprawling out on the floor." He got himself up and crawled over to the floor. The movement seemed to wake him a bit and, though he didn't show the—let's call it 'energy'—I was used to seeing in him, it didn't seem like he was going to fall back into unconsciousness.

There were a couple of loud thumps and the customary grinding sound when the Chamber to the Fayth opened and Braska stumbled out. He hung onto the frame for a moment, color drained from his face.

I immediately stood. "Braska! Are you alright?"

"I…yes. I believe so. And you?" He looked at the both of us.

"I…" Best to explain what happened out here later, when we were all more rested. "Believe so."

"That fayth thing—is that who you talk to in there?" Jecht looked up at Braska from his position on the floor.

"Yes." The answer was drug from somewhere far away as Braska took in Jecht's exhausted state. "Did you…?"

"They're homesick, I think. Or something." Jecht shook his head, "It's like I tell ya, Auron. The longer I'm awake, the less it makes sense. Gah!" He ran a hand roughly through his head, leaving it sticking up in odd spikes, "Just forget it."

We had to spend the rest of the day resting in the temple—Jecht and Braska were both utterly exhausted. I was tired in a way that no rest could solve. What had happened in there, in the Trials, didn't make any sense. I had thought, at first, that the aeons had finally begun to realize that Braska was a heretic, and had rejected him. But that didn't explain why Ixion had run to Jecht. And Braska told me that he had received the aeon. So why had the fayth bypassed the summoner and gone to a guardian, and a blasphemous guardian at that?

Whenever I lay down, I simply tossed and turned, unable to find any rest, like when I was a child and had too much energy to sleep.

Braska and Jecht slept like rocks.

We had to leave the following day. Though I had helped where I could the day before (I needed something to do with my hands) we could stay any longer without donating something. Having practically nothing, we chose to move on.

Braska and Jecht were still rather tired, and Braska and I, at least, were rather shaken, when we began to walk down the Mushroom Rock road. Our pace was sluggish, but we all knew that, regardless of speed, we would not be reaching shelter tonight. We rested often, and our clumsy movements made our already-low medical supplies dwindle down to nothing. We now had to rely on Braska for healing—an awkward situation because we had begun to count on his black magic to help Jecht and I eliminate the fiends.

It shouldn't come as much of a surprise that we were not able to continue long in this fashion.

"We just need to find a more sheltered spot. The 'ocean breeze' will be cold when the sun goes down."

"Yeah, I know. I live by the ocean, remember?"

It was hardly even dusk, so I can't blame lack of light, only weariness and tension, but I didn't even see the basilisk until the tip of its tail was under my boot. It immediately doubled back on itself and reared up, hissing and spitting.

It was one of those moments when your brain is in such shock it can't even think of the proper explicatives to use, much less figure out what part of the body it should be telling to Move now. Jecht, idiot that he is, jumped in with his sword. It barely cut through the tough scales, and the serpent turned its glare on Jecht and petrified him. I knew I had nothing. No softs, no remedies. I think I would have been hard-pressed to find pocket lint.

"Braska!"

"I don't have enough for an esuna, Auron!"

Despite Braska current lack of magical stores, the fiend seemed perfectly able to sense the mage in the group, and as fiends so often do, headed straight for him. I went after the monster, but it barely shot me an annoyed glance before attacking Braska with its limb-like claws. Braska was trying to fend the beast off, but without any magic at his disposal he wasn't making much headway. One of the claws managed to catch him on the side of the head, laying him out flat. I roared and stuck my sword across the back of its neck. That got its attention. Just enough for it to fix me with that gaze, naturally.

Oh, shit.

Sir Guardian, are you alright?"

My eyelids felt like lead, but somehow I was able to crack them open and make the intelligent reply, "Whuh?"

"Take it easy, sir. We're not sure how long you've been petrified, so it may take a while for movement to come back. Can you tell me how many were with you?"

I clumsily lifted a hand, it was like lifting a shoopuf, and tried to show him two fingers. "Two othersh. Wa other guardian, an' a summoner."

"Good, you're all here then. We got 'em all!" He called over his shoulder. For the first time I bothered to look at who had been questioning me. A warrior monk's uniform. Damn it, did it have to be warrior monks? I prayed I wouldn't run into anyone I knew.

You should be well enough acquainted with my luck to know that this would not be the case.

We were no sooner in the encampment when I heard a familiar voice.

"Auron!"

No way in heaven or earth…"Kinoc!?"

"What in Yevon's name happened to you?"

"I could ask the same. What are you doing here?"

"With all due respect, commander, if you need to speak with Sir Auron could you wait until I've set him down?"

"Oh! Of course. You!" He pointed at someone walking by, "Summon a white mage, will you?"

"Yes sir!"

The three of us were led off to one of the larger tents. "There will be a medic arriving shortly," the red-haired monk said, "Though I think you're more in need of rest than anything else."

"My thanks, friend."

He shook his head. "It is the duty of any follower of Yevon to aid his brother." He left and I turned my head to the side to see my companions. Jecht appeared to already be asleep, though it may just have been that his eyelids felt too heavy to lift—the longer one was petrified, the longer its after effects lasted.

"Lord Braska?" I tossed out tentatively.

"I though I told you to quit with that 'lord' business."

I smiled. "My apologies."

If he was well enough to argue over forms of address, he couldn't be too badly off. A white mage walked in, checked us over, cast a few Curas and prescribed just what the redhead had predicated—rest. And I was in no mood to argue.

When I awakened, it was to the smell of food. A young solider whom I did not recognize walked in, juggling three plates. "Ah! You are awake!" He gave one plate to each of us. "Forgive us, Lord Summoner, Guardians, we have only the simplest here. How are you faring?"

"Very well, thank you," Braska answered smoothly, "And thank you, also, for all that you have done for us."

The boy looked embarrassed. "Well, couldn't very well leave you out there."

"Yes, I doubt my friends were adding much to the scenery."

"Oi!" Jecht protested, "You wouldn't have made a great statue under the circumstances!"

The boy seemed uncertain of our teasing—apparently he expected a summoner party to be much more dignified. So did I, frankly, but there was only so much pomp you could get out of Braska. Apparently being wounded depleted his already-low tolerance for it.

"Oh! And Sir Auron?" I looked up. "Commander Kinoc would like to see you as soon as you are well enough."

Commander? I nodded. The boy—he couldn't have been more than sixteen—bowed and left the tent.

Commander. That made Kinoc second-in-comand, with only High Priest Tybalt above him.

"So, who's this Kinoc guy?" Jecht had pushed himself onto one side, propping his head up on a fist as he ate.

I tied my shoelaces. "He and I served together in Bevelle. It would seem that his situation has changed drastically since then."

"Oh, that's right. You were a warrior monk. Did you quit to become a guardian?"

I smiled wryly. "Something like that."

I set my now-empty plate to the side and got up—the only stiffness remaining being one resulting from sleeping on the ground and not petrifaction—and made my way out of the tent clearly serving as the camp's infirmary.

I didn't even have to look for which tent was Kinoc's. Another soldier saw me walking about and stopped me. "Sir Guardian?"

"Auron."

"Ah, Sir Auron." He spoke with an old man's rasp. "This way."

The soldier barely excused himself from his commander's tent before Kinoc threw his arms out and pounded my back in what he had always insisted was a "manly hug." I'd never been able to bring myself to reciprocate, so he didn't expect me to now.

"Good heavens, man! To think that I'd meet you here, and in such circumstances!"

Thanks for rubbing it in. "It has been a…trying couple of days."

"I imagine. Guardian to Lord Braska, and only some backwater islander for help! He looks like he doesn't even know which way to point his sword! Have you been taking care of them this entire time?" He was making no effort to hide it, but still it felt like spying to take a glance at his left hand. A plain gold band rested on the fourth finger. Understudy, indeed.

I looked back up at his face. "Lord Braska's magic may have been all that's gotten us this far, though it would be helpful to have a second mage with us. And as for Jecht…you're right, he doesn't know a lance from a lunchbox, but he's learning, quicker than most would under these circumstances."

"That's just Auron-speak for 'I've been carrying these fools,'" But he smiled good-naturedly. "Just don't push yourself too far. Take some rest, and make sure to take plenty of supplies with you before you go."

"I—" I wanted to refuse, even when I knew, logically, that we would not make it far without supplies.

"I would be remiss in my duties if I allowed a summoner party to go without when I still had something to give."

I nodded, understanding both the truth of what he said, and what he didn't say. We were still friends. Yevon knows I didn't envy him his marriage, though, knowing Kinoc, I doubt he'd take any notice of her once the ceremony was over.

"Thanks for everything, Kinoc."

Kinoc smiled the same way he always had. "I know I don't need to tell you this, but guard Lord Braska well."

"That, I will." I would not make this mistake again—it very well could have been my last. I smiled. "And you'll be busy, too, I heard they made you second-in-command."

Kinoc sighed and hung his head. Surely he hadn't hoped to keep it from me? Why? I mean, certainly I was more deserving, better skilled, more experienced, scored above him and everyone else in any test they could think to throw at me, but I certainly was not feeling slighted. At all.

"You know that promotion was meant for you. You were always the better one, even until the end."

That helped. It didn't make it go away—Yevon damn them, it was so unfair—but the fact that at least the man who got my position recognized it, the fact that my friend recognized it, made it matter just a little less. "You make it sound as if I was going off to die or something," I tried to laugh. I failed miserably. "I will see you again." Yevon, how many boys and men had said that and never returned?

"Yes." I could see the same thoughts moving through across his face. I hid my thoughts behind a frown, and he hid his behind a smile, but we could always read each other.

"Well, then..." I made a move toward the door.

"Going already?" There really was no more to say, but I understood. We had thought our last parting was in Bevelle. This meeting felt like a second chance—to say anything that hadn't been said yet. Why did it feel as though I was already gone? As if Kinoc had taken my place? "You will tell me about Zanarkand when you return, won't you?"

I smiled. I will see you again. "Farewell."

I saw him go toward his desk and move a spherecam that he'd been using as a paperweight on the makeshift desk before he escaped my peripheral version, and walked back toward the infirmary.

"Ah, Auron. We were just discussing whether we should leave or if we should wait until tomorrow."

"Are the two of you feeling well enough to go? I know you took a hard hit on the head, Braska."

"Couldn't have knocked things any looser than they are already," he smiled. "If you two are well enough to continue."

Jecht and I nodded and the three of us began heading down the Mushroom Rock under the noonday sun. It was probably the first and last time I'd ever thank my pack for being so heavy.