Chapter 28: Company of Three

In the Bevelle temple's confinement chamber for lesser offenders, Braska found the shirtless, shoeless stranger who called himself Jecht in one of the ground-level cages. The gentle-mannered summoner introduced himself and offered to have him released if he would agree to accompany them to Zanarkand since that is where he claimed to be from. Auron protested and called him a drunk. Jecht agreed to the offer, looking forward to going home while enjoying the opportunity to defy the young man who insulted him.

The temple guard shook his head at Lord Braska's strange decision but unlocked Jecht's cell. After returning the confiscated longsword, the guard led them up and out of prison into the temple proper before bowing to the summoner and leaving him to his business.

Jecht's first question upon being freed had been to ask what a "summerner" was. His ignorance about something so central to modern Spira's culture drew another look of disapproval from the man named Auron, but Braska had chuckled in amusement.

Braska met Auron some time ago and was impressed by the warrior monk's diligence and respect, but the younger man still addressed him by his formal title, since that was how they interacted at the temple. Braska was used to being treated with a certain level of formality by most of the people around him, so he found Jecht's unpretentious mannerisms to be a humorous and refreshing change. "I summon aeons and white magic to send the souls of the dead to their final rest in the Farplane," he explained as he led the way out of the temple.

"Oh. Like white mages. Strange place you got here if people know how to send dead souls, but don't have a clue about blitzball."

"You play blitzball?"

"Do fish swim? Current and long-standing MVP for the Abes. In Zanarkand, I would have walked out of that cage on an autograph and season tickets."

Auron frowned at the boast. "Lord Braska is well-known for his missions and diplomatic efforts with the Al Bhed when he was a priest, and now he is undertaking a pilgrimage to defeat Sin. If not for him, you'd still be stuck in that cage."

Braska smiled with humility at his guardian's defense. "Those missions were hardly successful, considering how things turned out. And the people of Zanarkand probably have no need to be familiar with my excursions to Bikanel."

The guardian quirked a brow. "People of Zanarkand? Sir, he can't possibly be from -"

"We have not been to Zanarkand, yet, Auron." Braska tucked his hands within his voluminous sleeves. "We are in no position to say what's possible or impossible there. Perhaps things are different from what we've heard."

Jecht grinned at Auron's frustration and folded his arms across the large, black Abes symbol tattooed across his chest. "What are you supposed to be, anyway? Are you a summerner, too?"

Though annoyed at the tone of the question and the ignorance behind it, Auron kept his manners for Braska's sake. "I was a warrior monk."

"Was?" Jecht caught the past tense. "Oh, that's right. Braska said something in there about them cutting you loose because you refused to marry someone. I always thought monks shaved their heads and vowed to abstain from that sort of thing … and anything else that's fun." The blitzball player studied the warrior monk in brief consideration. "Hm, actually, that would explain a lot about you."

Lips pressed together, Auron pulled his long, black ponytail from beneath the neck of his red haori. "A monk disciplines every aspect of his being. If the body is disciplined, the mind will follow. Don't pollute that by reading more into it than what it is."

Jecht smirked. "In other words, your bride-to-be was a dog, or your preferences don't lean toward women."

Auron leaned across Braska's path to scowl at the scruffy, crude-mannered athlete. "Ever heard of something called love?"

"Sure. I love blitzball. I love beer. I love weekends. And my wife and I fell in love about ten years ago." The gruff man grew uncharacteristically quiet.

"Then she must have the patience of an angel and eyesight of a bat," Auron muttered.

"Hey, now, you watch what you say about my wife. Dannae is the kindest, most beautiful soul you ever laid eyes on."

"My apologies to her, then. I didn't love the woman they wanted me to marry. It would not have been an honorable decision for either of us, so I gave up my promotion and accepted Lord Braska's invitation to be his guardian, instead. And Lord Braska, forfeited his position in the temple because they didn't want him to marry the woman he loved. Some things are more important than promotion and status." Auron's eyes shifted sidelong toward the other man, but he held his tongue before saying anything that might risk disrespecting Braska's decision.

"My diplomatic efforts with the Al Bhed fell apart when I fell in love with my wife," Braska explained to his new guardian. "Our relationship came together, but everything else fell apart. In the temple's eyes, I married a heretic. In the Al Bhed's eyes, my wife had betrayed her people for one of their persecutors. The fallout was not pleasant. But I have no regrets, and neither did she. She continued trying to communicate with her family and was on her way to see them when Sin attacked her airship. Airships and other machina are forbidden."

"Forbidden?" Jecht rubbed the back of his neck as he remembered the babble of the guard that arrested him. "Sin? That big fish that attacked the docks? That thing flies? Something that size could do considerable damage to an airship."

"Fish ..." Auron shook his head and leaned his back against the wall, barely able to contain his disbelief that Braska would even consider hiring this drunken fool.

Braska became puzzled. If Jecht didn't know what Sin was, that was odder than his claim Zanarkand origins. "That fish killed my wife. And it has killed countless other people on Spira since the Machina War."

Jecht was confused. "War?"

Braska and Auron exchanged uneasy glances. "Sin purges machina to prevent war from ever happening again, but its punishments are relentless, devastating," Braska patiently explained. "That is why we must try to defeat it."

"You're going to fight that thing?"

"To fight Sin, we must find the strongest aeon in Spira. But it's located in Zanarkand."

"What's an aeon?" Now Jecht seemed really lost.

"An aeon is the physical manifestation of a spirit summoned to aid us in battle against fiends."

"Never heard of it. Then again, I never heard of summerners either."

Auron gritted his teeth at the continued mispronunciation of the word and cast Braska another glance of doubt, asking if it still wasn't too late to change his mind about having him join them.

When they reached the city wall where Braska left Yuna, Jecht saw the black dragon aeon for the first time … and the little girl sitting under its wing. "We gotta help her!" He grabbed his sword.

Auron grabbed Jecht's wrist. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Braska calmly continued forward. "Jecht, this is Bahamut, the aeon from the Bevelle temple. He's here at my request, watching over my daughter in my absence." Braska invited Jecht to come closer and meet the dragon. Yuna popped up from where she was nestled beneath the dragon's wing and ran to her father's side. The dragon made no move to rise but bowed his head in greeting as the summoner and his guardians approached. Braska smiled at his daughter and set a hand on her head as she smiled back up at him. "As you can see, he is friendly, and my daughter is unharmed."

Releasing his sword, Jecht eyed the dragon with skepticism.

"Bahamut, Yuna … this is Sir Jecht. He says he is from Zanarkand, so I've invited him to join our pilgrimage as my new guardian."

Jecht snorted at the formal title Braska gave him.

Bahamut bowed his head again, and a noise that sounded like a purr rumbled in his throat to let Jecht know he had nothing to fear. Yuna gave a short curtsy to the stranger, smiled at the purr, and gave the dragon's supple scales a few pats.

Jecht started to touch the aeon, too, but changed his mind and jerked his hand back. "Uh, this won't suck me into a whole 'nother place, will it? 'Cause that last thing I touched dumped me here."

"Bahamut won't hurt you," Yuna told him.

Not to be upstaged by a little girl, the blitzball player patted the aeon's neck. "You're not afraid of this big ol' dragon?"

Yuna smiled bashfully and half-hid behind her father's robes before shaking her head.

Jecht bent his hands to his knees, so he was eye-level with her. "Hm, how old are you?"

"Seven."

"I have a son your age. He'd probably think it's pretty cool to pet a dragon. I think he'd be scared of it, though. You're braver than he is. Taller, too. He's kinda scrawny." He gave her a friendly wink and held out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Miss Yuna."

Still bashful, she let him shake her small hand.

Braska glanced at Auron with worry, then addressed the blitzball player. "You have ... a young son?"

"Yep." Jecht straightened with a proud grin. "Quite a handful, too. All over the place and into everything that isn't nailed down. That kid's going to turn every hair on my head gray before I hit forty, but … he's a good kid. I gotta get back to him and my wife."

Braska didn't know what to say. An entire family living in the Zanarkand ruins? "Then, it seems we are not the only ones who have urgent reasons for taking this journey."

))((

Auron went to the table by the front door and picked up his drink that he never actually got to drink before being called away to the docks. It was cold now, of course, so he took it to the kitchen and set it on the range's magical hot plate to warm it again. As he waited, he removed his red coat and draped it over the side of a chair at the table where Braska and Jecht sat talking.

Braska had been asking questions about Zanarkand, but Jecht's answers were bewildering and more than a little disturbing. Still, he tried not to let his concern show until he could figure out what was going on. Standing, Braska removed his elaborate headdress allowing his neatly tucked brown hair and mildly irritated neck to breathe. Setting it aside, he removed the heavy robe of his former office and draped it over a chair. The lighter, looser fabric of the kimono and hakama he wore underneath allowed him to move more freely in his own home. "The way you describe it, everything sounds as if the city was alive and well."

"Well, why wouldn't it be?" Jecht casually returned.

Braska wondered if they should tell him the place was supposed to be in ruins. Grabbing a sash, he put one end between his teeth and looped it around each arm to hold back the sleeves of the kimono. Then, after tying the sash's ends, he pulled a few items from the cupboards and began to prepare dinner. "What do you think, Auron?"

"I think he needs to sober up." Auron lifted his mug from the hot plate and tasted the drink to see if it was warm enough yet.

"You know, you're one to talk about my drinking habits when you're walking around with that big jug hanging on your hip." Jecht pointed to Auron's belt. "What'cha got in there? Bet it ain't apple juice."

Auron's expression flattened. "It's nog. I use it in fights sometimes, and it's a reminder to exercise self-discipline all other times."

"What's that supposed to mean? I got self-discipline."

"You were arrested for being drunk."

"I don't normally drink that heavy."

"Then why do it now?"

"It's personal." Jecht scratched his head and shrugged it off, not wanting to talk about it. Instead, he turned his attention to Braska, who was the more friendly and relaxed of the two, even though his manner of dress, large home, and the formal way others addressed him resembled nobility. "You do your own cooking? I figured a fancy-schmancy person like you would have servants to do that sort of thing."

Braska smiled as he chopped vegetables. "You're half right. I have a tutor and nanny to help care for Yuna, and I have various other people who show up once a week to take care of the house and grounds when I'm away." He paused for a moment. "My wife was a hands-on kind of woman, so she insisted on doing most of the work herself. It comes from being an Al Bhed, I suppose. Said she didn't need help. In fact, if I tinkered with things too much, she'd tell me to go back to the temple before I broke something. But I could cook better than her, at least." He sniffled, and his eyes started to water so that he had to put down the knife and lift a dish towel to dry them. When he looked up, he realized both of the other men were giving him oddly sympathetic stares. "Onions," he explained, humored at their assumptions as he held up the quarter that remained of the offending vegetable.

"Oh, right, onions ..." Jecht nodded in understanding.

"Jecht, could you please tell Yuna it's time to wash up for dinner?" Braska rinsed and dried his hands. "She's probably playing in the garden out back."

"No problem."

))((

Jecht found the small girl bouncing a blitzball in the garden directly behind the kitchen. She was an only child, like his son, and watching her play by herself brought back thoughts of him.

"Fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four ..." Yuna counted the number of times that she caught her ball as she bounced it on the brick pathway that wound through the lush flowers and ornamental grasses.

"That's not how you play blitzball," Jecht said as he approached her.

Yuna caught the ball and paused her game. "I wasn't playing blitzball," she politely answered.

"But that's a blitzball." He tapped the round thing in her arms.

"I know." Her expression fell. "But ... I can't swim."

Jecht tried not to chuckle at her confession and rubbed his chin. "I see. Well, swimming's easy to learn. My boy learned real fast after I threw him in the water. Got a pool around here? I could throw you in the water, too."

She shook her head, worried. "No, thank you."

Jecht laughed at how polar opposite this dainty little thing was from the headstrong child he was used to. "That's not what he said. He said, 'I don't want to!' And he made a grumpy face like this." He imitated his memory of the event. "And then he hid behind me. But you … You're not even afraid of a dragon, so why are you afraid of water? And, you don't even need it. You can play blitzball on the ground like any other game."

"But ... it's hard to play it alone."

"Hm, you got a point there. You could ask your dad to play some blitzball with you."

Yuna put a hand to her mouth and giggled at the idea.

Jecht chuckled. "Hm, you might be right about that. He's almost as prissy as you."

"Do you play blitzball with your son?"

"All the time. Or … at least I used to when I had the time. I'm a professional player, you know ... back in Zanarkand. He tries to copy my shots, but he's not very good at them. My shots are difficult, though. I guess he's got guts to even be trying them," he admitted.

"May I see one of your shots?"

"You may, My Lady." With a formal bow that didn't suit his personality at all, but made her giggle again, Jecht bumped the blitzball from her hands into his. "I'll show you one that I invented myself. It's legendary now. No one else can do it but me. I call it the Sublimely Magnificent Jecht Shot Mark III! Remember that name, kid, because this shot's going down in history."

Yuna blinked with astonishment at the impressive name. "Sub-lime-ly ... Mag-ni-fi-cent ..."

"Jecht Shot Mark III," he helped. Then, Jecht backed up and looked for a place to rebound the shot. The stone statue in the garden might do the trick, though the uneven surface could be a challenge for aiming it. Volleying the ball until he was able to slam it against the statue, he jumped up, spun, and kicked it.

Yuna gasped at the magnificent stunt then gasped again when the ball shattered the kitchen window. Running to the window, she peered through the broken glass to see both her father and Auron giving them severe frowns. With a wince, she turned around to face the blitzball player. "I think … you're in big trouble."

Jecht's mouth quirked as he scratched lightly at the beard scruff under his chin. "Hm, you might be right about that, too."

))((

Jecht bought some memory spheres before leaving on their journey, thinking it would be a great way to show his family where he had been while away from Zanarkand. Though Auron thought it was inappropriate for him to bring such a thing along for the sacred occasion, Braska agreed it would be a nice gift for their children.

The blitzball player began recording their journey from their final trip to the Bevelle temple south into the lake region of Macalania. There, Braska prayed to the Fayth of Shiva and received his second aeon. After staying at Rin's Travel Agency that night, they hiked through Macalania Woods the following day. When nightfall came again, they were still trying to find their way out of the meandering forest labyrinth, but they finally found their way to the spring and stopped to set up camp.

"Rations are low," Auron reported, checking their supplies. "We should supplement them." Lifting his chin, he looked around. "A forest like this should have something to forage or hunt, right?"

"Jecht, if you'll stay here and finish setting up the camp, Auron and I can hunt something for dinner," Braska suggested.

Jecht couldn't imagine Baska playing huntsman, but he agreed and set up his tent. "Hey, uh ... I've been thinking." Standing from his crouched position, he dropped the mallet with the other tent supplies and dusted the dirt from his hands. "You said this was a dangerous trip, right? And we've already met our share of fiends coming this far." He paused, troubled by his own thoughts. "If I don't make it back to my wife and kid, would you be sure that they get these spheres? So they know I didn't just walk out on them, or anything like that."

Braska looked to Auron, who kept silent on the matter but wore a grave expression. The summoner seemed troubled, too, but then offered an apologetic smile to Jecht's request. "As much as I would love to, I can't make that promise. The survival rate after the Final Summoning isn't very high," he admitted. "None of the summoners that make it as far as the Final Summoning have ever come back. That's why people are afraid to venture into the ruins and why we know so little about the place. The Zanarkand that we know was destroyed almost a thousand years ago in that terrible war with Bevelle. Sin has punished Spira ever since."

Jecht was stunned and skeptical. "What?" He snorted, thinking it was a joke, but when neither of their solemn expressions changed, he slowly realized they were serious. "This … is Spira's future? I time-traveled or something? That's impossible."

"And yet here you are," Braska reminded him. "I don't know what to make of it, either. You understand now why I am so intrigued about your origins and why I think we can help each other. The Zanarkand ruins are said to be haunted by some of the worst fiends on Spira. So, only summoners and their guardians dare to tread there. And they go only when it's necessary to confront Sin's destruction so the rest of Spira will have a period of Calm. No one has been able to keep Sin from returning yet, but if everyone would adhere to Yevon's laws, and if the summoner and his Final Aeon are strong enough, maybe someday the Calm will be eternal."

The blitzball player shook his head in disbelief and paced as he tried to absorb all the strange things he had seen and heard since being pulled away from the Zanarkand beach. "But … all I did was touch that big fish and … next thing I knew I was here. How do I get home?"

"I don't know how to help you return to your own time," Braska answered. "But if we can find a way, I promise I will do all that I can to help. I asked you to come with us because I was hoping your knowledge of the ruins would offer some advantage that previous summoners missed. But I will not ask you to walk the path I have chosen for the Final Summoning. You have a family to return to, a son who needs you."

Jecht frowned. "And you have a daughter that needs you. What about little Yuna?"

"Nana will take care of her until Auron returns. If Auron does not return, I've left her legal custody in the hands of her Al Bhed uncle. He didn't approve of his sister's choice in marrying me, but … Cid's a good man. I know he won't shut Yuna out if he knows she has no other family for refuge."

"How can you even talk about it like that?" Jecht became angry at how calm Braska was about the situation. "You don't just go wandering off on some suicide mission and leave your little girl behind! Everyone needs to escape and let off steam once in a while, but … I could never leave my boy on his own like that. I never meant to leave them like this!"

"Jecht, if Sin isn't challenged and pushed back by us, it will come for our children. It broke my heart to leave my daughter behind, but I don't want her to have to follow in my footsteps if there is something I can do to prevent it. And if Sin is what brought you here from your Zanarkand, then your son is not safe, either."

With a confused and heartbroken expression, Jecht sat down on a fallen log. This whole ordeal was too strange … too unfair. Sin could go after his wife and son, too? Because of a war that hasn't happened yet?

Braska sat down next to him and absently tapped the end of his staff in the dirt. "I'm sorry. It's difficult and unsettling to try to understand. And frankly, I don't understand either. But perhaps we will both find some answers along the way."

When Jecht didn't respond, Auron moved to Braska's side. "Perhaps we should skip the hunt tonight and stay here. We're not out of rations yet. They're just low."

"No, no. Go. We need food." Jecht waved them off. "I just … need some time to think about all this."

Braska nodded, knowing the burden of this revelation. "We'll try to hurry back," he promised before standing and hesitantly leaving with Auron to see what wildlife could be found in the area.

After they left, Jecht rubbed his hands over his face and sat alone with his thoughts for a long time. Then, he took a recording sphere from his packed supplies and set it in front of him, positioning it on himself. The memory of how he left his wife and his boy made it difficult to cope with the possibility that he might never see them again. If he survived the fiends, he still didn't know what brought him forward in time, so he had no clue how to reverse it. He just knew Sin had something to do with it. But if Sin could go back to Zanarkand, then his wife and boy weren't safe. He needed to warn them about Sin and tell the boy to protect his mother. He could bury the spheres along the path of their pilgrimage, and maybe someone would find them and … No. He shook his head, discouraged. Clues buried in the future couldn't be found in the past, could they? Maybe it wasn't the future, though. Maybe it was just an alternate reality. Or perhaps this was all just a dream. Jecht grasped his head, which was beginning to hurt from thinking too hard.

Finally, he sighed and shifted the bandana he wore about his forehead. Then, he touched the sphere to start recording all that he was thinking. It began as a message to his son, but the words weren't coming out the way he hoped, so, eventually, he declared he was no good at these things and turned off the sphere. Since it wasn't quite what he wanted to say, he turned it on once more to try again. "Anyways, I believe in you. Be good. Goodbye," he added before turning it off once more. Tapping it lightly against his palm, he debated whether to leave it or take it with him.

As he glanced to the side, he noticed Auron's jug of nog sitting among their supplies. Dark thoughts clouded Jecht's mind, and he set down the memory sphere to reach for the jug. "Let's see how this stuff tastes, shall we?" Uncorking the jug, he raised it to his lips and tasted a swallow. "Ahhhh! Good stuff." He took another swig. He wondered what his wife and son were doing right now. The last time he saw them—the looks on their faces as he struck his wife and his son walked in—maybe they were relieved he was gone. He couldn't explain or apologize or anything. Of all the rotten times to get separated. Groaning to himself, Jecht buried his head in one hand, pulled the red bandanna down over his eyes, then pulled it off of his head completely. Shivering in the chilly, crystal surroundings, he drank another swig from the jug to enjoy its warmth and numb his regrets.

))((

Unknown to Jecht, the spirits of Bahamut and Shiva sat across from him. Bahamut had kept a close eye on him since his arrival in Bevelle. And he had been pleased with the progress of their experimental illusion so far. But Jecht's realization that he was out of place and time seemed to devastate him. For the first time since the experiment began, Bahamut was worried. "He understands the importance of Braska's task now."

"Are you certain he can handle it?" Shiva clasped her hands at her knees.

"No," Bahamut admitted. "But he seems to be thinking more deeply, at least." No longer able to predict what this illusion would do, he crouched in front of Jecht to study his troubled expression. Then, he looked to Shiva with a mixture of sympathy and disappointment as they continued to keep silent watch over their illusion's experience in the real world.

))((

Returning from the hunt about an hour later, Auron and Braska carried the summoner's staff between them with three small animals strung over it. Auron spotted his jug of nog in Jecht's hands and immediately pushed his end of the staff into his lord's hands to snatch his jug from the blitzball player. "What do you think you're doing?" He checked the amount that remained.

"Just trying to stay warm, seeing as how these trees are covered in ice crystals or something. Surrounded by firewood and none of it's usable," Jecht grumbled. "Is that a fish or a bird?" He squinted at the strange animals they'd caught.

Auron turned to Braska with an angry frown. "He's drunk again. He's of no use to us as a drunk."

Braska was upset to see his new guardian like this, but he remained soft-spoken and calm. "Jecht, you need your sharpest senses about you on this journey." Shouldering the awkward and somewhat heavy staff of animals, he cast a magical fire over the pit. "There are fiends all around, and if you are not alert to them, you cannot hope to fight them off."

"My senses are fine. I'm just cold. And I'm not a drunk," he answered Auron with a slur.

Auron scowled at him. "When you steal someone else's drink, you're a drunk."

Jecht stood nose-to-nose with him. "I am the MPV for the best blitzball team on the ship! I deserve to de-stress a little now and then, especially while camping! So I'm not going to let some tight-ass monk call me a drunk." He punctuated his claim by giving Auron a firm shove backward.

"I call it as I see it." Auron shoved him right back. "What are you going to do? Hit me because you don't like the truth? Don't you see how out of control you are? Stay away from the nog!"

Braska stepped between them, with the staff bearing the hunted animals as a barrier. "I think these should be put on the spit if we're to start cooking them."

Auron begrudgingly accepted the duty. "Yes, My Lord."

With the warrior monk cooling his temper, the summoner turned to the blitzball player and sighed with disappointment. "Jecht, Auron is right. You must keep your drinking under control for the sake of this journey. The alcohol is distorting your ability to think, and out here, that could mean the difference between life and death."

"I can stop drinking any time I want," Jecht boasted.

"Then promise us that you will," Braska insisted.

"Okay, fine, promise," he growled, glaring at Auron.

Auron started to say something else, but Braska held up a hand to interrupt. "If we are to succeed, we need to work together as a team … as friends. None of us are perfect, and it does none of us any good to focus each others' faults. I want no enmity between us. That is the only thing that would be sacrilege here. Jecht has promised he would stop drinking. We will accept his word on the matter and refrain from insults."

Auron pressed his lips together but accepted the reprimand with a slight bow of apology. "I'm sorry, sir."

"And, please, no need to call me sir. I'd rather my guardians be friends than mercenaries," Braska added.

The young warrior monk nodded and cast a glance toward the blitzball player, before setting down his almost empty jug and turning his attention to making the spit to roast their kill.

Jecht grabbed a large knife from the supplies and removed the animals from Braska's staff to begin dressing them for cooking.

After removing his formal headdress, Braska also removed his heavy robe and offered it to Jecht. "This can warm you until the fire is sufficient."

Jecht saw what he was offering and shook his head. "Nah, I couldn't."

"I insist. We're heading south into warmer territory, but I should have thought to purchase you some new clothing before we left Bevelle." He held out his hand for the knife.

Jecht reluctantly passed the knife to the summoner and slipped into the heavy, layered robes. The warmth made him shudder. "Thanks … and sorry. I was thinking too deeply about things at home, I guess. And, Auron … I didn't mean to drink all your nog. Tasty stuff, though," he added, trying to break the tension with humor.

Auron paused in his task, but kept his attention on it, responding only with a small nod.

"Understandably, you are concerned about your family." Braska once more bound his sleeves out of his way and began to prepare their catch.

"Well, it's … more than all this. I was having contract disputes with my managers before I left." Jecht couldn't bring himself to admit that he had hit his wife. "They said I was getting too old to play. Said I needed to retire. I'm thirty-five. Since when is that old? Ask anyone who their favorite blitz player is. They'll tell you, 'Jecht!' Everyone knows me there. I worked hard to be on top!" Jecht shook his head and sat down on the log near the fire. "I've been playing professionally since I was seventeen. I've broken every record. So what if I'm not breaking records anymore? They're my records, damn it! I'm still the best!" He paused. "But what does that say about you when the team you gave your whole life to decides to let you go? It says ... time to quit. But I'm not ready to quit. I've still got a lot of good plays left in me."

"It sounds discouraging," Braska sympathized, listening as he worked. "But drinking won't solve anything. Trying to escape your problems only makes them worse."

"I don't need your lectures, all right?" Jecht groused. "I said I would stop drinking."

"No lectures. Just logic ... and concern from a friend." Braska noticed the sphere beside Jecht on the log. "Recording again?"

"Yeah. Something for my boy." Jecht looked at it for a long, thoughtful moment. "Something to let him know ... I'm proud of him, you know? Just in case ..."

The spit was finished, so Auron came near to wait for the finished animals. "A boy needs to hear words like that from his father."

Jecht was surprised at the change in the warrior monk's tone. Rising from the log, he picked up the memory sphere and strode to the edge of the spring. Braska stood and passed the first of the animals to Auron with a nod of gratitude. Then, he looked toward Jecht, who hesitated, then dropped the sphere into the lake with a small splash.