Despite living in temples for the past six years, Lulu had never seen a summoner. She'd seen plenty of apprentices during her time in Bevelle, but never someone who could move a high priest to deference. It was intriguing – and satisfying – to watch, though she dared not look too long, lest the nuns scold her for staring. When the summoner caught her eye, Lulu's face grew warm, and she quickly moved behind a statute, under the pretense of cleaning, to cast the occasional surreptitious glance back toward her, unseen.

When a nun told her later that day that the summoner wished to speak with her, Lulu thought she was joking, trying to get a hopeful reaction out of her, only to laugh it off. But when the nun straightened Lulu's collar and roughly brushed her hair and led her to the visitor's quarters, Lulu realized she was serious. The nun knocked on the door of one of the chambers, and Lulu found herself face-to-face with Lady Ginnem.

The nun nudged the small of her back, and Lulu bowed. "You wished to see me, my lady?" she asked.

"Yes." Lady Ginnem smiled and stepped aside, motioning Lulu into the room. "Please, come in, and sit down."

Lulu did as she was told, her stomach tightening as Lady Ginnem closed the door behind her. What reason could the summoner have for wanting to speak with her? Was there an issue with the temple, with the room? Lulu scanned the chamber, looking for any cobweb, any speck of dust she might have missed in the rush to prepare the room, but found nothing. Perhaps the bed was not soft enough? Not enough cushions for the summoner's comfort?

Or, perhaps it was her. Maybe Lady Ginnem had found out who she was, what she was: a black mage, an outcast, bad luck. No summoner would want someone like her nearby, especially at the beginning of their pilgrimage.

"It's very nice to meet you, Lulu," Lady Ginnem said, taking a seat opposite her. "No, no, you needn't rise. I just want to chat."

"It's an honor to meet you, my lady." Lulu shifted in her seat. "Why did you wish to see me?"

"I noticed you when I arrived at the temple, and I've heard some interesting information since, from the high priest and from some local children. I only thought it fair that I give you a chance to tell your own story."

Lulu's mouth went dry. So, she did know. What was she planning to do with that knowledge, with Lulu's admission? Send her from the temple? Where would she go, then? Who would take care of her? What might …

"Lulu." Lady Ginnem reached over and patted her hand, bringing Lulu back to the moment. "Relax. I am not seeking to indict you for who you are. I simply wish to hear your story, absent the speculations and elaborations of others."

"There … there isn't much to tell … my lady."

"Perhaps you feel that way because you have lived it. Tell me, Lulu, are you a black mage?"

Lulu looked at her feet. "Yes."

"Do you remember when you found out that you were?"

Lulu flicked her eyes up to Lady Ginnem, then back to the floor. Why did Lady Ginnem want to know something like that? Was she really only in search of the truth? "I think I was about four years old. My mother let me light the hearth … but I must have learned how to, before that."

"Hmm. So, you can control your magic?"

"I could. I haven't used it in so long, not since I moved into the temples …"

"And the temples. The high priest says you are an orphan. Is that correct?"

Orphan. The word struck Lulu squarely in the chest, knocking the breath from her as if it were a wayward blitzball from the children who played outside the temple. She'd heard it so often in the past six years, almost always laced with pity or contempt. She was not the only one, she knew – there were plenty of orphans in a world with Sin – but she felt that she was the only one who was truly a burden. An orphan who frightened other children, an orphan who frightened the temples themselves. An orphan without a future. A shadow.

Lulu swallowed hard and nodded. "My parents were killed in an attack by Sin. We were travelling … we'd just left a harbor near Macalania, when Sin attacked the ship. I think … my parents drowned. Someone saved me, pulled me from the water, and sent me back to Macalania. To the temple there."

"And how long were you there?"

"Not very long. There were so many orphans, so many wounded … too many for Macalania Temple to take care of. So, I was sent to Bevelle."

"I come from Bevelle." A gentle brightness infused Lady Ginnem's voice. "Perhaps I might have seen you there."

"Perhaps."

"But Bevelle is such a long way from Besaid. How did you end up here?"

Lulu flinched at the question, and balled her skirt in her hands until her knuckles were white. "I'm bad luck," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Bad luck?"

"Yes. Everywhere I go, Sin follows."

"What?"

"After I went to Bevelle, there was another attack in the ocean east of the city. More orphans, more victims. Someone said it was because of my black magic, that that's what brought Sin, so they sent me away. To Djose. Another attack, somewhere – at least that's what a traveler said – and then I moved to Kilika, but the high priest there had heard about me and told me to keep going.

"The temples can't turn away a child with nowhere else to go, I guess, so once I came here, the temple had no choice but to keep me. I don't think they want to, though."

Lulu looked up, and saw Lady Ginnem with one hand pressed against her mouth, her eyebrows twitching and her eyes wet with tears.

"Oh, Lulu," Lady Ginnem said, shaking her head, "that is terrible. What those people said – what they believed – it is not true. Sin exists because all Spirans are imperfect, because we all need to atone for our transgressions; it does not exist because a little girl has powers other people don't. And it certainly doesn't follow people, much less a child, one with no sins of her own."

She extended her arms, tentatively, toward Lulu, as if to embrace her. Lulu glared at her, biting her lower lip to stop its trembling, and violently shook her head. Lady Ginnem let her arms drop with a heavy sigh, and tilted her head back to study the pattern on the ceiling.

"I wish," she said quietly, "I wish to help you, in some way, before I leave the island."

"Why?" Lulu fought the lump in her throat, grateful that her voice remained steady.

"Because I cannot bear to leave a child suffering. One I might have helped."

"I am not suffering; I am well cared for here. I am given enough to eat, and a bed of my own."

"Cared for, physically, yes. But what about emotionally, spiritually?"

"I pray to Yevon with the nuns, and I study the texts."

"Are you happy here? Lulu?"

Lulu frowned and turned away. What kind of a question was that? What did it matter if she was happy at the temple, when she had nowhere else to go if she wasn't?

"I think I understand." Lady Ginnem cleared her throat, and tried to adopt a lighter tone. "At the very least, would you allow me to work with you, to improve your magic skills?"

"Why?"

"So you can control them, and use them for everyday purposes, like lighting hearths and torches. So you can prove to the clergy, and to the townsfolk, that black magic is not something to be feared."

Lulu's frown deepened. "How can you help me, though? You're not a –"

"You're right, I'm not a black mage. But I am a white mage, and a fairly good one at that, Yevon forgive my pride. I may not know the same spells as you do, but magic is magic, and learning to cast and control your powers is a universal principle."

"Really? You aren't afraid?"

Lady Ginnem laughed. "Afraid of what? I have an extensive repertoire of healing and defensive spells. Even if your magic goes awry, I will be fine."

"But what if they don't work? What if I accidentally change something about them? I'm bad luck –"

"Nonsense. Don't listen to words spoken in fear. I will tell you a secret, Lulu, on how to thrive in the temples, and in life: learn and abide by the teachings of Yevon, and listen to the clergy only when they do the same. Anything else that falls from their mouths is as insubstantial as the wind."

Lulu's eyes widened, and her jaw fell slack. Lady Ginnem was a summoner, but her opinions were very different from those Lulu had heard circulating through the temples. Perhaps she really could help her; at the very least, it was comforting having someone around who did not treat her as an ill omen, as an aberration. Lulu took a moment to regain her composure, then gave Lady Ginnem the palest shade of a grin.

"If you are sure you'd like to help me, then," she said, "I humbly accept your offer."

"Wonderful!" Lady Ginnem clapped, beaming. "I shall remain here for the next week. It may not be much time, but I'm confident we can make progress. Would tomorrow morning be a good time to begin?"

"Yes, that would be perfect!" Lulu broke into a full smile now, and jumped to her feet, forgetting, for a moment, that she was in the presence of a summoner. Remembering this, she quickly bowed and performed the prayer. "Thank you, Lady Ginnem."

"You are very welcome. I look forward to seeing what you can do. Until then, be sure to rest well tonight, because we begin early tomorrow!"

Lulu tried to heed Lady Ginnem's words that evening, but sleep would not come. For the first time in years, Lulu's mind was alive with possibilities, and her heart, so small and tender and hidden away, felt a flush of warmth once more.

⁂

"What in Yevon's name is that?" Ibai drew his sword and pointed it at the little Moogle scurrying back to Lulu from the charred remains of a target. Beside Ibai, Lady Ginnem watched, eyes wide and lips pursed.

"My doll," Lulu answered, stooping to gather the Moogle in her arms. "It helps me focus."

"But why does it move?"

Lulu shrugged. "It just happens when I use my powers."

"Has it always been that way?" Lady Ginnem asked, walking toward Lulu, despite Ibai's protests. She lifted one of the Moogle's arms and felt the material, then let it fall, limp and lifeless now, against Lulu's arm.

"Yes. My mother gave me this doll. I named it Mog. She used to tell me to think of Mog carrying the spell on its back, like a little rucksack, and that's how I used to light the hearth in our home. I never missed."

"It still works." Lady Ginnem looked back at the smoldering pile that had been Lulu's target.

Ibai wandered over to the destroyed target and jabbed at it with his sword, stirring up a flurry of embers. "That thing's dangerous," he said.

"Nonsense. It functions exactly like my staff; a physical object to focus my energies as I prepare a spell."

"But your staff doesn't move. If this thing runs to the wrong place –"

"I see your concern." Lady Ginnem turned back to Lulu with a soft smile. "Lulu, do you think you might be able to cast a spell without sending Mog out?"

Lulu drew Mog close to her chest, running her fingers along its rough stitches, absently noticing that several were beginning to fray. "I don't know."

"Just hold onto it." Lady Ginnem motioned to Ibai to bring her staff, then held it out in front of her, parallel to the ground. "Like this. Hold on, and focus on the object, on how it looks, how it feels, how much it weighs. There, like that."

Lulu clutched the doll even tighter, and followed Lady Ginnem's instructions. Focusing exclusively on Mog, she noticed her peripheral vision darken, felt the rest of the world slip away. It was just her and Mog now … and Lady Ginnem's voice.

"Now, slowly, draw up your spell. Envision it striking its intended target … feel its energy running through you. From your mind … to your heart … to your arms …"

Lulu conjured the memory of a thunder spell in her mind, let the energy flow through her, toward her hands, toward the doll. She stared down the wooden target before her, and trembled with unreleased power. She strained to hear Lady Ginnem's voice beneath the sound of blood pulsing in her ears. She briefly entertained the fear that something inside of her would snap from the tension, and she would collapse, maybe even die, but she pushed it from her mind dug her fingers into Mog's soft belly.

"And … release!" Lady Ginnem demonstrated the end of the process by enveloping herself in a Shell spell, possibly as a precaution against Lulu's attempt. Lulu followed close behind, sweeping out one arm and sending a bolt of electricity arcing forward, clipping the edge of the target and striking the large stone behind it, gouging out several large chunks.

"See? Dangerous." Ibai kicked at the pieces of stone and crossed his arms. Lulu scowled and turned away.

"Not at all," Lady Ginnem said, and for the first time, Lulu heard a chill edge to her voice. It melted as suddenly as it had come, however, when Lady Ginnem spoke to her. "That was a very good first try, Lulu."

"I missed the target." Lulu held Mog in front of her and looked into its stitched eyes, tears welling in her own.

"Not by much."

"I still missed."

"It was your first attempt at a different method of casting, and one of your first casts in years." Lady Ginnem placed a hand on Lulu's shoulder and gave it a surprisingly tight squeeze. In spite of her soft voice and small stature, she was incredibly strong. "You simply need practice, and that's what we're here for, right?"

Lulu nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat and blinking away the tears.

"Good. Now, take a moment to collect yourself, and we'll try again. Oh, and –" Lady Ginnem leaned close and dropped her voice to a whisper "—don't listen to anything Ibai says. He might be a warrior, but off the battlefield, he's really still a boy, and one who gets scared easily, at that."

Lulu chuckled, and Lady Ginnem patted her back and walked away. After a few deep breaths to settle her nerves, Lulu faced the row of targets once more, shifting Mog to the crook of one arm, and raising her other arm above her head. She followed Lady Ginnem's instructions, welcoming the power coursing through her this time, confident that Lady Ginnem would not judge her for its strength or trajectory.

She swiftly brought down her arm and cast the spell, clipping the target again, and once more on her subsequent attempt. But on her fourth try, she hit the target squarely in the middle, and, caught up in her success, promptly doused the fire she'd created with a well-aimed water spell.

Lady Ginnem clapped and shrieked with laughter, and even Ibai gave a grudging compliment, though, when Lulu glanced at him, she noticed that he was unable to hide the admiration in his expression. She smiled, a little smugly, and brushed the dust from her skirt.

"Well done, Lulu!" Lady Ginnem said. "I knew you could do it, with enough time and confidence. Next, we will need to work on establishing consistency, but I think that can wait for a while. What do you say we have our lunch first, and take a well-deserved break?"

"I'd like that." Lulu began walking in the direction of the temple, then stopped suddenly, turned around, and bowed deeply. "And thank you very much, Lady Ginnem, for trusting me, for believing in me. For helping me."

"You are very welcome, but I'm not done helping you yet." Lady Ginnem caught up to Lulu and placed an arm around her shoulders. "And I'll never be done believing in you. Remember that. No matter where I am, no matter if our paths never cross again, I will never stop believing in you."

⁂

The flow of magic through her veins again was exciting, and addictive. As the week wore on, Lulu looked forward to her training sessions with an anticipation that bordered on craving. She slept lightly and woke before dawn, and could scarcely concentrate on her morning duties at the temple, rushing through them to head to the designated practice area and wait for Lady Ginnem to arrive and begin her lesson.

For the first time in six years, Lulu felt as if she had a purpose, a place, and, in Lady Ginnem, a mentor, a guardian, a friend.

But Lady Ginnem's stay grew short; what would happen after she left? Would Lulu simply resume the life she'd led before? Would she be forced to keep her magic hidden, unused and, eventually, forgotten?

The thought alone made her shiver. She couldn't bear to go back to a routine of menial tasks and the dull, persistent ache of unreleased power, not after having come so far. Perhaps, she could go forward, instead, at Lady Ginnem's side. Perhaps she could become a guardian, and repay Lady Ginnem for the faith and patience she'd shown her, while leaving the temple, and the disapproving glares of its clergy, far behind.

"Absolutely not," Ibai said, when Lulu suggested this to Lady Ginnem. "The pilgrimage is long and dangerous. It is no place for a child."

Lady Ginnem held up her hand to silence him, and shook her head sadly. "Ibai is right, Lulu," she said. "The pilgrimage is dangerous and difficult, and at the end –" she sighed "—that is the most difficult part of all."

"I know," Lulu replied. "I know there is danger out there. I've seen it, myself. I've seen Sin."

"Then maybe Sin's toxin wiped out your common sense," Ibai said. "You don't go looking for trouble, especially when you have a good life here."

"It's not a good life!" Lulu stamped her foot and clenched her fists. "The temple – the village – the people don't like me, they just put up with me, because I have nowhere else to go. They feel sorry for me, but they're scared of me, too. Of me, of my magic. They say I'm bad luck!"

"Far better to suffer their words than to be dead."

"But I nearly am, anyway! What kind of life is it, if I have to hide who I am? If I have to live off of others' charity?"

"It is still a life, and you should be grateful. Sin very well could have –"

"I wish it would have!"

"Enough!" Lady Ginnem's voice cut through their squabbling, as cold and sharp as Ibai's blade. "Stop bickering; it is getting nowhere. Ibai, I appreciate your concern for Lulu's well-being, and I'm sure you've communicated the dangers of the pilgrimage well enough." She nodded, and Ibai bowed and retreated to the edge of the clearing. She then turned toward Lulu with a melancholy chuckle. "And Lulu … you are a smart girl, so I'm sure you understand what a serious undertaking it is to become a summoner's guardian. I sincerely appreciate your offer, but Ibai is right: you are still a child."

"Only in years, my lady," Lulu said, Lady Ginnem's calm tone cooling her own emotions. "But, as I said, I've seen danger, I've seen Sin. I know what it can do."

"So do many Spirans. That does not necessarily mean that they are equipped to face that danger."

"I am." Lulu set her jaw and watched Lady Ginnem's eyebrows twitch, watched her mouth twist into a thoughtful frown. "And you saw to that, just in this past week."

"Indeed. However –"

"Why did you teach me, then? Why did you teach me how to use powers that the temple will never let me use again?"

"For your protection. For that of Besaid."

Lulu shook her head. "Some of our priests are trained to fight, for that reason. They don't need me. And they wouldn't let me help, even if they did. My magic is dangerous; it is bad luck. Remember?"

"Perhaps you will change their minds." Lady Ginnem smiled again, strained, and smoothed down Lulu's hair. "That will be your legacy."

"You said you believed in me. Lady Ginnem, please, let me help you, let me repay your kindness."

"Lulu, I appreciate your offer, so very much. Your devotion warms my soul. But I cannot allow you to risk your life on this journey; I cannot allow you to throw away your future."

Lulu bit her lip at the unexpected sting of tears. For so long, no one had cared so much for her. It was a strange feeling knowing that, at once warm and comforting, and carving out a hollow in her chest. "But," she said quietly, "my future … is with you … my lady. I could stay here in the temple, safe and sound, until I'm old, and do nothing with all that time. Or, I could travel with you, protect you, and make something of my life, no matter how short it is."

Lady Ginnem's shoulders slumped. "You make your point well," she said, "but this is not a decision I can take lightly. Please, give me the night to think on it; I will let you know what I've decided on in the morning."

Lulu agreed, reluctantly, and retired to her quarters not long afterward. She slept fitfully that evening, waking often and listening for the slightest sound, convinced that Lady Ginnem would slip away in the middle of the night. Eventually, however, tiredness overtook her, and she fell into a dreamless sleep.

She was woken roughly the next morning, by a frantic nun shaking her shoulder and pulling her out of bed, then trying to dress her even as she staggered on the edge of wakefulness.

"Hurry," the nun hissed. "The Lady Summoner has requested your presence, and you must not keep her waiting! Oh! Why have you slept so late? Help me with your sleeve … Lulu … Lulu!"

Lulu, helped along by the nun, stumbled out of her quarters and bowed to Lady Ginnem, who smiled at her in return.

"Good morning, Lulu," she said, then turned toward the door at the top of the stairs at the back of the temple's main chamber. "Do you know what lies beyond that door?"

Lulu blinked. She'd heard it referenced enough times, in hushed and reverent tones: the door she was forbidden to approach, the stairs she was forbidden to even sweep. She nodded. "The Cloister of Trials, my lady, leading to the Chamber of the Fayth. Entry is forbidden to all except summoners and their guardians."

"Indeed. A mysterious place. They say each temple's Cloister is different from all the others'. I don't suppose you would care to explore it with me?"

"I'd love to, but as I said before, it is forbidden except to summoners and their …" Lulu trailed off as she caught the implication of Lady Ginnem's request. She looked up, wide-eyed, and Lady Ginnem began to laugh. Behind Lady Ginnem, Ibai shrugged and turned toward the stairs.

"I am well aware of that. Lulu, if your offer still stands, I would be honored to have you as my guardian."

Lulu was silent for a moment, opening and closing her mouth but not finding the words to express her joy, her gratitude. Finally, she simply bowed deeply before Lady Ginnem, her knee brushing the cold stone floor. "The honor is mine, my lady."

"Then rise, my guardian, and take to your first task. Accompany me to the Chamber of the Fayth." She grasped Lulu's and Ibai's hands, and looked up at the door to the Cloister. "I place my trust, my life, my legacy in your hands."