"If you wish for true power, come to my altar… child. Alone."

"Absolutely not! There's no way we can trust her safety to the likes of you."

"Then, you all are fools. You've turned against Yu Yevon and his faith; the clergy thirsts for your blood. If you had no hope of defeating Sin and seeing to it that your dear summoner outlived her cursed fate, all of you would already have been slain at Yunalesca's feet. What now, you mewling sow?"

Lulu scoffed at that final comment, turning her back in contempt.

All of Yuna's guardians crowded around her, suffusing the air with tentative offense to this ominous presence. Wakka fidgeted with the blitzball clutched underarm; Lulu continued to fume. Rikku's eyes fluttered nervously while trying to maintain a serious look; Auron stood stone-faced and wholly unreadable. Kimahri snarled lowly with an arm extended as a shield, and Tidus frowned crookedly. Yuna, last but not least, bit her lip and clenched her fists, mulling over the all too sudden situation.

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that she needed all the strength she could muster for this, their final challenge. The offer was just too sweet to pass up and humility was no object. She'd traveled the depths of ocean and earth for much the same, so why would this be any different?

"Fine," she uttered, her response choking out gasps from half the crew. "I will agree to your condition, so please… aid us in our quest."

The girl bowed deeply at the waist, with her hands balled against her thighs. If she bent forward any farther, she would have folded in on herself perfectly like a fan.

"Hmph. The rest of you would do well to learn your place. We shall see, then, summoner. Have your guardians deliver you to the Moonflow. Your final destination will reveal itself there."

"Hey!" Tidus barked.

"It's gone… Some nerve, though, am I right?"

Wakka shifted from one foot to another, one hand scratching at the back of his neck and the other making vain attempts at placating Lulu by hovering uselessly over her shoulder. "Has, has a fayth, y'know, ever been that… much of-"

"An ass?" Auron interjected. Rikku snickered in the background then corrected herself.

"Well, the fayth were people, too, right?" asked the Al Bhed. "People just like us? Like meanies and cowards and…"

"This one defies the mold," Lulu hissed. Her tone was sharp as she still stung from the earlier comment made against her. "This may not even be a fayth at all."

"I sensed great power," Yuna confessed. Her eyes drifted to the ground. "It was not unlike that of the fayth. You could tell, too… right, Lulu?"

"I won't deny that I didn't feel anything. You're right, that presence… It's not human, though. It's something else. Something more..."

"Yuna, you can't seriously be thinking of going through with it?" Tidus pleaded as he scooped up one of her hands and squeezed it tight. "Right… right?"

-o-

There was no temple for this fayth. Or rather, the temple was devoid of all glamour commonly expected in one. There was no antechamber with statues honoring the high summoners who had previously defeated Sin; there was no Cloister of Trials preceding the altar; there were no priests, no acolytes, no censers and braziers burning incense or casting soft glows and stark shadows on the walls. There wasn't much of anything.

The temple was a simple hollow carved into the mouth of a cave draped in ivy. The altar itself was a lonely, empty hole in the floor, the glass dome that covered it shattered and layered with a fine, black grit. Overlooking the altar was a stone chair flanked by crudely carved, square columns, like a throne in its solemn loftiness. This was the only thing lending any sort of personality to this desolate locale drifting along the Moonflow. Although, if one squinted hard enough, the faint etchings on the walls must have told a strange story.

Yuna stepped lightly on the cobbled, earthen floor, breathing sharply every time her heels snapped on the stagnant air.

"H… hello," she whispered. "Is anyone there?"

A cold, dark hand materialized from out of nowhere and gripped her neck, firmly yet with no intent to kill. She caught her breath and grazed her fingers on the all too solid presence lingering there.

"You've come. You are very stupid or very brave, summoner. Or… perhaps a bit of both?"

"I came alone, as you asked."

"I did not ask. I told you."

Yuna stifled a sigh beneath the vice grip around her throat. Against all judgment she came here to pray to the fayth and win its favor, because she was taken by some inexplicable awe. All but one of her guardians protested, and rightfully so. This was foolish. It was so foolish of her to come here, all by herself—although her guardians weren't far off. But she allowed curiosity and desire to get the better of her. And now here she stood, her life literally in the hand of another.

But in the back of her mind, the summoner found this strange. How did it feel so real?

"Please. I bear you no ill will, nor disrespect," she said. "I came here seeking the power to defeat Sin."

"Hmph."

The hand fell away from her neck, delicately tracing its length plus the curve of her shoulder. The young summoner shuddered and lurched forward in something of repulsion.

"Well then. On your knees. I want you to beg for my power."

Was this some sort of trial within itself? she thought. Wakka had been right to question if any such fayth had ever existed. With a gaze as cold and uncaring as stone. A personality that commanded fear rather than worship, salvation, or placation. A body clad in the starkest black and skin and hair a ghostly gossamer hue. The only feature that bore any sort of vibrancy was that, behind that gaze, smoldered eyes the color of a dead lake. And in those eyes were sharp pupils wavering between spheres and slits.

"Before I go any further… What should I call you?"

"I am the will of this planet. Sephiroth."

Yuna raised her eyes slowly to the black caped figure looming over her. She abruptly felt familiarity in the revelation of his name. And yet, she'd never seen such a creature in her life. She'd never even known of his existence in any way, shape or form. The will of the planet?

"Oh…"

Why did this man's name ring true in the depths of her heart? Just what did she feel all of a sudden? This began to trouble her far more than his harsh demeanor ever could.

At that point, the gentle rustling of the man's cape pulled Yuna back to reality. She whipped her head sharply from side to side, searching for his form. As if by magic, she found this Sephiroth hovering before the lonely stone chair, a hand resting on its angular and tapered back. Though he faced away from her, over his shoulder his eyes beckoned her nearer. And with a fist balled against her chest, the summoner made a cautious approach from the left side of the hole in the floor.

Yuna came to stand less than five feet from Sephiroth's back. The corner of his mouth curled into the most sinister grin as he turned his chin up at her. A single swish of his cape locked the full breadth of his front to hers where, briefly, the girl caught sight of the dark, muscular form hidden within those folds.

This was indeed a man. Or something that played the part very well.

"Kneel," he uttered.

She frowned at his command.

"You would prefer this the hard way."

"No," Yuna contested. "It's not that."

"Then kneel and know my strength by its will alone."

Prostration had always been a part of the ritual prayer to the fayth. Yet… in the way that this man commanded it of her made it seem so much more perverse than it was. Never had she inclined herself to a being of authority in such a way, not even to a maester. Only within the secluded confines of the temple cloisters had Yuna ever offered herself up in that vulnerable state. Because, she was opening her mind, body, and soul to the fayth in exchange for power. This should've been no different.

But was Sephiroth really a fayth?

Lulu's suspicions lingered in the back of her mind.

He was dressed in black from neck to toe in a leathery garb so alien to Spira it needled her wonder to the point of physical discomfort. In a way he was like Sir Jecht when he first appeared. So out of place among the cowed masses of Besaid and Bevelle. But at least his blitz uniform made sense. And his bronzed skin, burly stature and brazen attitude weren't so farfetched.

Everything about this creature, however, screamed another world far beyond Yuna's ken. How he moved freely from his altar, how much solid flesh—or something like it— he appeared to be made of. Every moment she spent guessing as to Sephiroth's nature was another chink in the armor of her fortitude. In the face of any sort of power that wasn't her own, her increasingly troubled state of mind could end in disaster.

"I see you faltering, little girl," the man murmured. For a second his tone was so soft that the cold in it was negligible. "Haven't you learned to put your mind at ease as a summoner?"

"Mm."

"You have endured so many trials thus far. But now you hesitate? Here I thought you were worthy. Dare I instead call you… pathetic?"

The girl huffed and let her eyes fall to the tips of her boots.

"I won't let you talk to me like that," she whispered under her breath.

"Hm?"

"I will not." The summoner's eyes burned fiercely for a moment as she brought them back to rest on Sephiroth's form. "I will not let you speak that way to me. The bond between summon and summoner isn't of a master and its slave… It's… a partnership. Of equals."

A chuckle rumbled in his throat as his body drifted backwards into the stone chair. In no more than a single bounce, he sank easily into that deceptively unyielding seat. His cape fluttered up then softly settled upon the leatherbound swell of his thighs. Sephiroth conjured up an odd air of majesty: his sharp chin raised high, both hands gripping the armrests, knees apart, and back straight. He looked ready to pass judgement.

Yuna was ready to endure it.

She splayed her arms out then brought her hands together in prayer as she bowed, albeit indignantly at first, towards Sephiroth. At this he chuckled again and crossed one leg over the other and leaned his head bemusedly into his uplifted palm.

"Show me the strength of your spirit, daughter of High Summoner Braska," he said in a lightly mocking tone. "I shall abide by the rules of the fayth."

Abide by the rules? Yuna wondered. As if he weren't subject to them in the first place?

"Watch your step."

The girl flinched at those words. She'd made it this far, why would she miss her step now? And why would she trip before him, of all people? She didn't know what she was getting herself into, but she'd hoped this would've been towards a great cause. The Calm. An Eternal Calm, even. After defying the Yevon clergy and sending Lady Yunalesca to the Farplane, how much more would she have had to suffer? Whatever this man offered, she had no intention of tripping, falling, failing, nor dying for it. Not just yet. Not until the very end.

Yuna took a deep breath before getting down on her knees, and exhaled with the clasping of her fists in her lap. You've done this so many times before, she thought to herself. But this one just leaves me so… troubled? It's a test, it must be. This is the Cloister of Trials. He is a puzzle in itself.

I must navigate his mystery.

Before going any further, Yuna looked up and asked, "Will you sing the Hymn?"

"No," Sephiroth answered all too succinctly.

"Okay. Then I'll sing it myself."

The summoner took in a few more cleansing breaths as she reclined deeper into position. A silence overtook her. To be honest, she wasn't sure if she could undertake singing the hymn at the same time as praying. This temple, if it could ever truly be called one, had virtually none of the accoutrements that would've eased her burdens. That, and she was alone with this creature, this man. But Lulu had given her well wishes for safety and success before sending her off into this place. Auron and Kimahri had each nodded their trust in her in silence. The others couldn't help the awkward exchange of glances and murmurs followed by hugs and caresses of her shoulders.

Yuna's lips parted ever so slightly, and a single syllable had just slipped out when the man sharply bent forward, startling her.

"Don't."

Sephiroth's catlike eyes burned with a bluish-green light. It was then that the summoner noticed a sparse cloud of pyreflies swimming in agitation around him. They emanated from him, dusting his form with a weaker luminescence than was normal of them. But, his delayed response to her attempting the Hymn… It was curious.

The girl felt the thinnest twine of dread snag on her heart.

"You…"

"Don't make childish assumptions," he scoffed before sitting back in his stone chair. "Lowly creatures like you could never hope to comprehend my true existence."

"…of course," the summoner conceded. "But… it's so quiet here. You must be lonely."

The man smiled, faintly.

Yuna cleared her throat and averted her gaze, struggling to get comfortable once more. Without the hymn, she herself began to feel lonely. She didn't feel as firmly rooted in reality as she wanted to be. Could she operate without its anchor? Was this yet another trial in itself? Suffering this man's presence just long enough to successfully establish a pact with him?

She closed her eyes and counted her breaths as that thread of dread wound ever so slightly tighter. As a summoner, Yuna had to believe the fayth's intentions would naturally fall in line with hers, with them all. Rogue fayth were so rare as to be unheard of.

When Yuna's eyes opened again, Sephiroth stood before her. Rather, he floated silently, his shape now an iridescent silhouette filling her entire view. The pyreflies that surrounded him bloomed larger now for a moment then shrank away when Yuna's concentration faltered.

Just as her eyes closed once more, she saw Sephiroth's figure bend down and extend his hand. A cold sensation pushed its way into the summoner's chest then knocked her flat on her back, whereupon the stone floor gave way to nothing.

Yuna yelped and flailed frantically before forcing herself to reach out for any toehold she could manage, mental, physical, or metaphysical. He got the better of her. No vision of the fayth had hit her as hard before, not since her very first pact at the temple of Besaid. But suddenly it dawned on her, the reason why she'd been caught off guard. What ghosts that spun around her were not those of Zanarkand's past. This vision was alien in ways she could not fathom.

Austere, metal structures scraped a gloomy night sky stained with beams of white searchlight. The sight brought to mind what Bevelle could have been if Yevon hadn't been born there. It was an ugly bronze monument stained sickly green to something wholly utilitarian and devoid of integrity. How alien it was, and yet still feasible. Could this be the Bevelle of a distant future? A far flung past? Was it anything more than the fever dream of a rogue fayth?

"What are you trying to show me?" the girl whispered in the depths of her mind.

From between the dirty bricks beneath her feet, shafts of green light began to spring out and upward. From the bottom up, they wove together a lean human shape—his human shape—followed by vivid snaps of hair and a cape coming into existence. His head rolled lazily on his shoulders before his voice wafted out in a hollow and dreamy tone, "So this is what you summoners are capable of? You steal into one's soul unbidden?"

"No, this is your story, your-"

"Begone."

"This is the pact!" Yuna asserted. "I must know who you are, that I might… that I might understand you and your power, and-and…"

"Be. Gone."

"Wait!" Yuna lunged forward into the folds of Sephiroth's cape. Instead of being swaddled by its flapping folds, she fell headfirst into the blackest space before hitting the next layer of this vision.

Her body was met with a whoomph as if she had just been plunged into water. But there was no breath to gasp for, no waves to swallow her up. Yuna hurdled through an inky corridor of black, with the barest hint of stars floating by. Not stars, but crystal. Shards of light that grew in size and brilliance, while others shrank and blinked away to nothing, a breathtaking scintillation of a show that threatened the summoner's concentration here in the fayth's dream.

A woman also blinked in and out of existence. Long, long brown hair, and a long white coat. With every blinking that dragged Yuna closer, she would turn just enough for one to see her face beyond the crystal rain. That face was just like Sephiroth's, but pained. Forlorn.

Before this woman could fully face Yuna in the dark and faintly howling corridor, crystal formed into brilliant spears around her slowly arcing form. Her red heels fell away into oblivion as she was impaled, transforming her into crystalline light that gradually blew away like crumbling leaves.

Who was she? Why was she?

"She was nothing."

Sephiroth's echoing and omnipresent voice broke the spell of the woman's vision. She can't have been nothing to you for her to appear here, Yuna thought. A fayth's dream was rarely fraught with meaningless images. Their dreams were a reflection of their life and times, heart and soul. That woman was something the fayth refused to acknowledge, something wholly human as a contrast to his air of inhuman superiority. The summoner would remember this.

"You will not."

A giant ghostly hand halted Yuna's flight through the black corridor, proceeded to swat and sweep her down into the blackness, which faintly gave away to deep, deep blue, then crystalline blue like the oceans of Spira. The girl felt a slight reprieve at the sight, bolstering her focus as she continued her journey into Sephiroth's dream.

Then came the vision of another woman. At first she was only a silhouette against the watery abyss, a ghost with limp but open arms. But soon her skin began to draw in from the space around her like millions of microscopic tendrils threading themselves together. Her hair fanned out behind her like a cape, like Sephiroth's cape.

That hair was gray like Sephiroth's. Her skin pale and almost ghostly like Sephiroth's. And her face?

There was no face. As if by the fayth's will, the vision refused to share its identity with Yuna. This nude, featureless woman drifted towards her, devoid of life except for the serenity of the abyss shifting her and her hair about like she was floating peacefully in a pool.

Yuna ventured fingertips at a hand as it wafted within reach.

The hand twitched, the hand convulsed. The body convulsed. The skin started to melt away, back to whence it came. Part of the 'water' that engulfed Yuna and the woman.

"That is none of your concern," echoed a voice. His voice.

Out of defiant curiosity, Yuna called out, "Who is she?"

"None. Of your concern."

The young summoner frowned.

Contrary to a fayth's behavior, the trial of the pact bared all. Even without so many words, this naked, faceless woman was important to Sephiroth. Just as the woman before her, whose body had shattered into millions of shards of light that continued to glint dismally in the distance even now. All visions within this space were the fayth's heart, mind and soul, its truth.

This fayth, this man, could refuse to explain all he wanted, but his visions exposed all.

A far flung past in a wholly different world— dark, cold and unforgiving, even. Just like Sephiroth himself. Yuna spied hints of loss, pain, swirls of mystery which swathed the fayth in the same way he wore that caped coat. For all it mattered, all of those things were his coat themselves.

The girl felt compelled to both voice and gesture her sympathy as a means of further connecting with Sephiroth, but he was a myriad of walls unto himself. He didn't have to say a thing. In this space, Yuna's inner being was also bare to him. He knew what she thought, what she felt at that moment.

Yet he was silent.

Yuna floated in that green-blue abyss, unsure of how to proceed. No, it was Sephiroth that impeded her progress. He was calculating.

Was he deciding on whether she was worthy of diving deeper? That she passed the trial of the pact? Or was he preparing to expel her? Did he suddenly deem Yuna unworthy? As if he thought highly of her in the first place, despite that superior front?

What do I do? The summoner mused. I have never experienced a fayth such as this. Even Anima's pain and sorrow, and Yojimbo's material desire, were easier to deal with. For someone who is so… who acts so… holier than thou, he might be the most human of them all.

Fickle.

Guarded.

"Do not pretend you know me beyond the images you see," his voiced echoed.

"Then tell me," Yuna ventured back, clutching a fist to her chest. She huffed airlessly before going on. "Tell me what you want.

"You are a fayth, are you not? But you don't act like one. You act… different. Very different. You offer your strength but… I do not sense the desire from you to stop dreaming, not like the other fayth. You have another goal for wanting to stop Sin and Yu Yevon. What is it you are after? Please tell me so that I might understand you… Sephiroth."

The silence that ensued deafened the girl. She never felt so harshly judged in her life, even as the successor to her father Braska and his title as the last High Summoner. The silence was pregnant with so many unseen eyes, all catlike and all narrowly focused upon her.

A figure began to materialize before Yuna. At the same time, it gradually leeched color from the watery abyss that surrounded them. Everything faded to the blackest black once again while the figure coalesced into a luminescent silhouette of Sephiroth. Yuna couldn't help but blush as his shape was unadorned in its sudden manifestation; there were no folds, no creases, no fabric at all, to hide the implication of skin, bone and muscle. Curves, angles… appendages. Here, the fayth was naked before her, but somehow also larger than life.

Like a beating heart, Sephiroth's form seemed to grow in size with every pulse, fighting to fill the summoner's view with nothing but his body. Is this how he saw himself? Or was this his true form? Was he nothing more than an impressive ghost? Just what was this man? The summoner's questions flowed neverending from her mind.

"Hmph." The dismissive noise reverberated through every inch of the girl. Giant transparent arms outstretched themselves to both sides of her, their movements drawing faint howls from the nonexistent air.

The thin bow of Sephiroth's lips pursed as if to speak, then they curled into a smirk most sinister.

"Sin and Yu Yevon are indeed a blight upon this world, and this has gone on long enough. They disrupt the flow of life, and I seek to restore its order once and for all. This earth you call Spira cries. Her veins are a painful tangle. These basic fayth that you cavort with are a hindrance more than they help.

"It's time that I finally step in. You've done away with Yunalesca and have quartered Sin where he is primed for attack. Yuna, daughter of High Summoner Braska. You have proven some worth, and you may be useful with my aid."

By now, the fayth was so large that Yuna could see nothing but transparent chest and abdomen without craning her neck up or down. She struggled not to look below his waist except to see his hands rise up like they were about to trap her in the cup of his palms. Sephiroth's blazing cat eyes beat down on her head, and she lifted a hand to shield her face from the glare.

For a man to posture like this, like a god of this world, of Spira, this entire affair threw the summoner for a loop. Just where did he find the nerve? Or maybe Sephiroth really was a god? Some ancient force that had been long forgotten and ignored until now? What a mysterious creature he was. But beneath it all was obvious power. And the girl needed power if she was to make a difference in this long, harsh journey of hers.

"I… would accept your strength, if, if it meant that I could save Spira and bring about the Eternal Calm at last," Yuna proclaimed. "Please, lend me your aid, then. Forge this pact."

Sephiroth chuckled. The sound was a low, but heavy throb coursing through the girl's head all the way down to her toes. It nearly carved out whole thoughts in her mind, so that a profound dizziness might push its way in, instead. Yuna felt ready to collapse and vanish into oblivion beneath her feet. But upright she remained. She withstood the onslaught of the fayth's vision all this time, she'd come too far to back away now. And she hoped he noticed that.

"Daughter of High Summoner Braska. Yuna. Even you were ready to sacrifice your life as your father before you. And now, in the face of absolute adversity, you would bring down the entire monolith of Yevon to save Spira from its eternal cycle of death. The audacity… From a meek and mild child like you. Strangely delicious."

The fayth's lips curled into a smile Yuna could only describe as lethal. It was a sliver of a curved blade across his severe, catlike features. His survey of the girl was long, almost perverse, and then his fingers reached up and closed themselves around her. Her skin and veins were filled with the sensation of icy, rushing water. The summoner gasped, struggling not to writhe in discomfort before the fayth.

Was she finally on her way out of this trial? Was Sephiroth ready to forge their link? Although…

The officially established fayth of a summoner's pilgrimmage bestowed Yuna a long and flowing swath of emotions. Wells of fear and loss, calm and hope, tinges of anger and desire. Weariness. What would Sephiroth instill in her during the final legs of her journey? The girl inwardly shuddered to think.

But she had to press on.

"Those little wheels in your mind spin so much. Don't you tire of that? You needn't worry any longer. As I said, know my strength by will alone."

When those ghostly fingers squeezed over her body, a light billowed and bloomed from the contact of Yuna and Sephiroth's souls. Her mouth opened wide to yelp, but no sound escaped as everything was engulfed in the whitest white. It burned, the painless sort of burning caused by blinding light.

It burned and burned; this was nothing like connecting with the other fayth. The summoner's skin, mind and soul crackled.

"Am, am I going to explode? What's-"

–

Yuna collapsed on the cold stone floor, gasping for air, clawing at dust and grit.

She'd returned to consciousness. No, more like she'd ejected back into consciousness. Her heart pounded so hard, she thought she would faint, or worse. The girl raised herself to her knees, both hands to her chest to still its angry thumping.

"Wh, what happened?" she whispered soundlessly.

The summoner looked up, surprised to see Sephiroth also brought to his knees. This haughty creature was now on her level, if he'd actually been anything else to begin with. He too had a hand pressed to his chest, but he neglected to breathe as hard as she. He didn't breathe much at all. But the fayth was stunned. His wide and icy, green-blue eyes slowly rose from the floor and locked upon Yuna across from him.

"Curious," he muttered. "So this is what it feels like to bind oneself to a summoner."

"Y… you've never done this before?"

He didn't answer. He seemed lost in thought before his expression hardened to one of slight anger. Was he actually embarrassed?

Yuna gulped hard and licked her dried lips. Before the girl could get to her feet, the fayth was already upright and offering a hand to her, although his posturing said volumes of him not doing so out of the goodness of his heart. It was a mechanical, obligatory motion while he stared ahead over her. But she'd accept it regardless.

Sephiroth lifted Yuna effortlessly with just a flick of his wrist. But the quick force of his action made her shoulder protest somewhat painfully. Still she nodded her thanks, and bent to wipe the dust from her skirt and sleeves.

"Thank you… for… lending me your strength, Sephiroth," Yuna said, smiling weakly. This trial had been a strange one. She felt so drained, yet at the same time renewed with a mysterious will. The fayth's will. He was like nothing she'd ever felt before. His presence was dark, foreboding, overbearing. Ancient? Not weary, but certainly long-lived.

Driven.

But for what?

Yuna wondered if she'd find out soon enough, if he allowed it, anyway.

Pause flushed the musty air. The summoner girl had no idea what to do with herself in that moment, or the next for that matter. Truth be told, she still processed her thoughts and emotions after that spiritual bout. All the while Sephiroth stood there, quiet and generally unmoving. Unlike the other fayth, he existed in the flesh, or whatever his body was made of. He sort of moved and sort of breathed just like a normal human when he deemed it necessary. Apart from battle, how would they interact? Would he remain here in his lonely little temple, or…?

How did his aeon manifest? Yuna thought. What did it appear as? Or was he his own aeon?

Sephiroth lurched suddenly, startling the girl. She looked up to spy the pained grimace on his pale face as he looked down his sharp nose at her. He expected something but she didn't know what.

"Um, should we-"

"Go," he replied sharply. "You think too much. Go. Don't make me regret this."

"Oh!" Yuna exclaimed. "Uh. You can tell that I'm… My apologies. You're right, I have to get back to the others. They're worried about me."

The summoner bowed her head and turned to leave the solitary temple. But Sephiroth's iron grip on her shoulder, too close for comfort over half of her neck, obstructed her departure. His face slipped slowly from the left into her peripheral vision. That dead, almost deep voice murmured soundly.

"Summon me as you wish. I won't be far behind."

Yuna shivered with the sudden rustle of his cape and whoosh of air past her. He was gone. But not in spirit. Not far behind. Her heart cried to pound its way out of her chest again, and with that she took several deep breaths to quiet it once more. After this… after this, she'd have to have a talk with Lulu and Sir Auron.

-o-

A/N: Stretching dusty old wings. I really don't remember the last time I posted. And I don't know if I have the energy for the epic I still dream about, but the least I can do is still toss a one shot out here and there for fun. Enjoy. Or don't~