(Author's Note: This story is based on information found within the game itself, and thereby disregards the timeline of Lulu's previous pilgrimages as set forth in the Ultimania.)

How long had it been? Hours? Days? Ginnem sat back on her heels with a sigh, and mopped the sweat from her face with the sleeve of her robe. Fayths were notoriously difficult to call forth – particularly to an unproven summoner – and none was so selective in its communication as the one who slept inside the temple in Bevelle.

The priests under whom she'd studied had advised her to complete her training elsewhere, to seek out more cooperative fayths and gain experience as a summoner, before attempting to call upon the local fayth. Ginnem had respectfully declined their advice, determined to earn the title of summoner in the city where she'd trained, by procuring the strongest Aeon she knew of. If she was successful, no one would doubt her claim to the title; if she was successful, she would have little need for more than one guardian.

There was an element of personal pride to her determination, as well, though Ginnem tried to conceal it before the eyes of Yevon. Still, its flame flickered in her heart, stirring and sparking a reserve of energy, enough for her to make one last attempt. She shifted onto her knees again, performed the prayer of Yevon, and closed her eyes, letting her consciousness drop away, searching for some sign – an echo, a glimmer, a tremble – in the darkest corners of her mind.

You're a persistent one …

Ginnem started, and willed herself not to open her eyes at the sound of the voice. It sounded small, like a child's, and very far away.

I respect that. Tell me, why do you wish to become a summoner?

Ginnem swallowed hard and licked her lips, hesitant to speak, fearful that her voice would sever the tenuous link she'd established.

Go on. You may speak.

"I wish," she began, as loudly as she dared, "to ease the suffering of all Spirans. I wish to defeat Sin and bring the Calm, for the people of Spira, those now living and those yet to be born. I wish to give them a world of beauty and light, the only gift a mere servant of Yevon can offer."

And you desire nothing for yourself?

"Nothing … save for the chance to bring the Calm."

The chamber suddenly grew cold, and Ginnem shivered, struggling to maintain the connection with the fayth. She heard a quiet humming, gradually growing louder and more articulate, moving around her, swooping past her ear before retreating to the wall, and she recognized the words to the Hymn of the Fayth.

Open your eyes.

Ginnem did as she was told, and found herself face-to-face with a young boy in a purple hood, floating just above the floor. He grinned at her and bowed slightly.

I am the fayth of Bahamut, sleeping in the depths of Bevelle Temple in wait of a summoner deserving of my power. You have proven your tenacity, and your devotion to the temples of Yevon and the people of Spira. I am glad to offer you my power.

"Thank you. I accept it humbly."

The fayth laughed. Your humility will be proven during your pilgrimage. Now, rise, Lady Ginnem, and call forth my Aeon, so the ritual may be complete.

Ginnem rose on trembling legs, stretching her arms to her sides for balance, and focused on the strange sensation thrumming through her mind. She felt the hem of her robe sway, then lift, and soon a great rush of air enveloped her, cooling her sweat-drenched skin and contracting around her body. She glanced up and noticed that the ceiling of the chamber was no longer visible, hidden now behind a layer of clouds, in which glowed an intricate glyph. A point of light appeared in the center of the glyph, descending rapidly towards her, growing, growing, until it took on the form of a large dragon, hurtling toward the chamber and landing hard enough to raise dust and stones from the floor.

Fanning away the dust, Ginnem stepped back to admire Bahamut in his full glory. An enormous black dragon with gilded accents and colorful wings, he stood on his hind legs, front legs crossed over his chest, ready to do her bidding.

Beside her, the fayth laughed again, louder.

You've done well, Lady Ginnem. Now, go forth and begin your pilgrimage. I await news of your success.

A bright light filled the chamber, and, once it faded, neither the fayth nor Bahamut remained. The air inside had grown heavy and hot, and the remains of Ginnem's energy left her. She limped through the door and sagged against its frame, vaguely aware of the murmuring of priests and nuns waiting outside.

"What is it?" they clamored, one over the other. "Have you seen the fayth? Have you received the Aeon? Ginnem, are you all right? What is it?"

She looked up, wiping the sweat from her brow and dragging aside the stray hairs that had escaped her headdress, and smiled. "I have seen the fayth. I have called forth the Aeon. I've become a summoner."

In unison, those gathered performed the prayer of Yevon, then began congratulating her, even as her smile faded, and she slumped to the floor.

⁂

Ginnem looked at the stern faces lined up before her and frowned. They were all so young. Boys, really, who had tempered their bodies into weapons of Yevon, hoping to one day join the elite guard of Bevelle. They faced straight ahead, unsmiling, unflinching, their expressions unchanging, while a priest extolled their virtues and glossed over their inexperience as glibly as a chocobo trader.

"They will not let you down," the priest said. "These are the best trainees the temple has, almost all of them certain of becoming warrior monks."

"In that case," Ginnem replied, "why should I deny them the privilege? There are plenty of other warriors out there, I'm sure. Older ones, who no longer have such a glittering future ahead of them, but who make up for that in hard-earned experience."

She smiled and bowed politely to the warriors, prepared to take her leave, when the priest grabbed a warrior by the wrist and pulled him forward.

"But do those warriors know the intricacies of Yevon's teachings as intimately as men raised within the temple?" the priest asked. "Would they understand your pilgrimage, your sacrifice? Would they be virtuous enough to even set foot inside a temple, let alone accompany you to all temples in Spira?" He shook his head and shoved the warrior toward Ginnem, then patted him on the chest. "No, best not take the chance that they might not. This young man is strong and pious and pure, the only kind of guardian befitting a summoner."

Ginnem saw the warrior's brows draw together ever so slightly, and noticed that he was biting the inside of his cheek, whether to prevent a smile or a scowl, though, she was uncertain.

She sighed. "Very well, then. I shall request that this warrior accompany me on my journey. What is his name?"

The priest laughed nervously, then pushed the warrior forward once more. "Best that he introduces himself. Go on, young man."

The warrior moved only his eyes at first, and studied Ginnem for a moment, before sinking into a reverent bow and performing the prayer of Yevon. "My name is Ibai. It is my honor to guard you on your pilgrimage, Lady Ginnem."

Ginnem smiled. "I appreciate your service, and your sacrifice. Come, Ibai, we must begin preparations."

"Wait," the priest called out, stepping back and sweeping his arm toward the remaining warriors. "You are not choosing only one, my lady?"

"I believe one is sufficient. Besides, I do not want to overtax the temple's resources."

"Nonsense! Do not feel the need to limit yourself on our account. Bevelle is prepared to spare no expense to ensure that you are properly outfitted for your pilgrimage, my lady. The best protection, the most comfortable clothing, the most adept support – simply name your wish, and it is yours."

"I appreciate the offer, Father, but whose pilgrimage would it be, if I accepted all that? No, I am more than well prepared with my white magic and Aeon, and a strong warrior to fight for me." The priest opened his mouth to object, and Ginnem raised her hand to silence him. "Should I discover I need something else," she continued, in a firm and measured tone, "I am certain I can find whatever it is along my pilgrimage route. Now, I really must begin my preparations. Good day, Father."

She didn't wait for a reply before leaving the room, and walked quickly down the long hallway outside. Fear and self-satisfaction mingled in her chest, tugging her lips into a faint grin, and threatening to explode in a fit of girlish laughter. The look on the priest's face had been so amusing; no doubt, he was used to dazzling people – summoners, clergy, and laypeople, alike – with that blatant demonstration of Bevelle's wealth and power, blinding them with his pride and snaring them in his debt. He seemed utterly unprepared, however, to respond to humility and self-sufficiency – the very qualities that he admonished the followers of Yevon to aspire to.

Bevelle sometimes got lost within its own splendor, the clergy eagerly following. But that mattered little to Ginnem. She was not journeying to defeat Sin for Bevelle, or even for the clergy who had raised and trained her. She would defeat Sin for all of Spira, for the devoted and the doubters, and the Calm she would bring would be worth far more than the riches that filled Bevelle's coffers.

She heard Ibai's footsteps behind her, a long steady stride keeping up with her hurried, robe-bound steps, and glanced back at him. His expression was stoic as ever, and he spared her only brief glances. She slowed, and he walked beside her, setting his jaw and facing straight ahead.

"You are permitted to speak to me," she said. "My pilgrimage will seem much longer, and much lonelier, if I cannot talk to my guardian."

"Understood, my lady," Ibai replied, but said nothing further.

"What is your story, Ibai? Were you born in Bevelle, or did your family journey here?"

"I'm like many of Bevelle's warriors. Born here, then given to the temple when I turned five, to begin my training."

"Five? I admit, I've seen very young boys brandishing their little wooden swords, but I had no idea they started so early. How old are you now?"

"Nineteen."

"Still so young …"

"My age has no bearing on my competence."

"No, of course not! I wasn't suggesting that." Ginnem frowned. "It is simply … my pilgrimage will be long, and dangerous. And, when we reach Zanarkand, it will require a great sacrifice. You have many years ahead of you; I wouldn't want to –"

"Lady Ginnem, if I may …"

"You may."

"My life has belonged to the temple since I began my training. I do not hesitate to lay down my life for the good of Bevelle, for the good of all those who believe in Yevon. Should this pilgrimage cost me my life, I can think of no more honorable way to die."

Ginnem nodded. Ibai might still have looked like a boy, but his faith and resolve were those of a man who had lived and toiled for much longer.

"I am in good hands, then," she said.

Ibai's features relaxed, and Ginnem thought she caught the trace of a smile. "Absolutely, my lady. I will not let you down."

"I place my faith, and my life, in your hands." Ginnem stopped at a branch in the hallway. "However, I must ask that you leave me to my preparations now. You should begin your own. We depart in two days' time."

"Understood."

"Pack well for a long journey, and settle any personal business you may have here, for it will be many weeks before we pass this way again."

Ibai nodded, then preformed the prayer again and walked in the direction of his quarters, leaving Ginnem to stare down the dim hallway toward her own.

"Many weeks, indeed," she said quietly. "And I shall never make this walk again."

⁂

The sun seemed brighter in Besaid than it did in Bevelle, perhaps because it wasn't filtered through windows or half-hidden by architecture. Ginnem squinted into the light as she disembarked the ship, aware of the whispers and curious eyes turned on her as she continued along the beach, toward the village and temple. A few children tagged after her, blitzballs tucked under their arms, not dissuaded in the least by Ibai's stern glare.

They dropped away, one by one, as Ginnem and Ibai passed through the village, until only two boys remained, watching through wide eyes as the high priest of Besaid stepped out of the temple to welcome Ginnem.

"Bevelle sent word to expect you," the high priest said, after performing the customary greeting. "We are honored that you have chosen to begin your pilgrimage here."

"Thank you." Ginnem smiled. "I seek to begin my journey at the farthest point from its end, so that I am sure to obtain all of the necessary Aeons along the way."

"A prudent decision. Now, since I am sure you must be very tired from your voyage, allow me to show and your guardian to your rooms."

Ginnem paused in the temple doorway, allowing her eyes to adjust to the relative darkness within. The temple was cool and quiet, save for several voices murmuring in prayer. A man knelt before the statue of High Summoner Gandof on one side of the chamber, while a dark-haired girl swept dust off the floor behind him. The girl glanced at Ginnem and Ibai, then quickly averted her eyes and moved to sweep behind the statue of High Summoner Ohalland. Behind Ginnem, one of the local boys snorted.

"Typical Lu," he said, brushing off the other boy's attempt to silence him. "She's real quiet, ya? Been here two years, and still won't talk to nobody, 'cept for my brother, Chappu." The boy gestured toward his companion. "Even then, she only says like a couple words at a time."

Ginnem looked at the boys, then back toward the statue of Ohalland, from behind which the girl had yet to emerge. "Two years?" she said. "She is being raised by the temple, then?"

Chappu nodded, frowning. "She doesn't have any family. She lost her parents when she was little, to Sin. Then she moved from temple to temple, and ended up here. She said she was bad luck."

"Bad luck?"

"Yeah, but I dunno what she meant. She didn't want to talk about that anymore."

"Hmm." Ginnem continued to watch, and caught a glimpse of the girl, head ducked, shoulders hunched, scurrying into a room in the rear of the temple. She began to follow, but was called back by the high priest, and shown to her quarters.

"How long will you be staying with us, Lady Ginnem?" he asked as she set down her belongings.

"Several days, at least. I would like to give myself time to rest before and after the summoning."

"A wise choice. And that warrior. Is he your only guardian?"

"Yes, at the moment. I am open to the idea of recruiting others along my journey, should the circumstances demand it, and should I find willing candidates."

"I am pleased to hear that. Besaid is a very quiet place, very safe, but I'm afraid that I cannot offer the same certainty regarding the mainland." The priest bowed. "But do not let me trouble you further. You must be tired. Is there anything else I might get you before I take my leave?"

Ginnem thought for a moment. "Yes, there is," she said at last. "That girl, the one who was cleaning the temple. Could you tell me more about her? From what some of the other children said, I take it she is not from here."

The priest's brows arched at her question, but his features quickly softened into a sad smile. "That is correct. She is originally from the Macalania region, and lost her family to an attack by Sin while they were traveling. Beyond that, there is not much more to tell. She became a ward of the temples, and moved from one to another before ending up here."

"Why was she transferred so often?"

"She is a … special child, born with abilities that she has not yet learned to control. She frightened the other orphans in the temples, as well as the clergy charged with her care. It was therefore decided that she might do best in a smaller temple, where she could be closely monitored, and have as little unsupervised contact with other children as possible."

"That seems cruel. Why does the temple not work with her to bring her abilities under control, instead?"

"Because they are not the sort of abilities with which we are prepared to deal, nor do we particularly care to." The priest sighed. "You see, my lady, Lulu is a black mage, and, so being, is inherently dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Ginnem smirked. "I take it you've never seen a properly-executed Holy spell. A black mage is only dangerous in two situations: when they cannot control their powers, and when their hearts have been corrupted by hate and resentment. It appears to me that you are choosing to ignore the former, and actively fostering the latter. No wonder you fear she will be dangerous."

The priest scowled. "With all due respect, Lady Ginnem, the day-to-day operations of Besaid Temple are not your concern. Please allow us to deal with our charges as we see fit."

Ginnem fought a scowl of her own, forcing her features into an expression of serene ambivalence. "Understood. However, I would like a chance to speak with the girl, at the earliest opportunity. I have never met a black mage before; I believe she might have some things to teach me."

"I highly doubt she has anything of the sort," the priest spat. Then, remembering he stood in the presence of a summoner, he bowed and performed the prayer of Yevon. "I will try to convince her to speak with you. But she is a very shy child, so I cannot guarantee that it will be a particularly fruitful conversation."

"I appreciate the opportunity, Father." Ginnem glanced from the priest to her belongings and back, smiling. "That is all I need for the time being, thank you."

After the priest left, Ginnem sat heavily on the bed and removed her headdress, feeling the sweat on her scalp cool, but not quite dry, and thinking about Lulu. What a sad life for a child to lead, punished for circumstances beyond her control. What would the Calm mean to someone like her? What would it change?

Nothing.

Ginnem was not naïve. She understood well that not all suffering in Spira was the direct result of Sin. People had an unnerving capacity for cruelty, themselves, and some did not hesitate to tap into it, whether consciously or in the name of some greater good. But until that afternoon, the victims of that cruelty were but a concept to her, nameless, faceless shadows that moved her to pity.

Seeing Lulu, however, and hearing her story, moved Ginnem to something far more powerful than hollow sympathy: it moved her to anger.

As a summoner, Ginnem was committed to easing the suffering of all Spirans, whether by comforting the sick and wounded and grieving, or by sending the souls of the departed to the Farplane, or by defeating Sin.

Or, by showing kindness to a young girl cast aside, relegated to the shadows and the dust, simply for who she was.

Ginnem lay back on the bed and stared at the low ceiling of her room, fanning herself in the warm, humid air. She hoped the priest would keep his word. She would refuse to leave until he did.

She could not explain why Lulu affected her so, why her sad tale stood out to her among those of other orphans; but, though her pilgrimage was just beginning, Ginnem resolved to delay its continuation until she could speak to Lulu directly, until she could hear her story in its entirety, until she might have the chance to lighten the gloom in the girl's heart.