Hope is Comforting
By Yagami Iori
A/N: Careful! Spoilers for Zanarkand! I love Yunalesca too much, so I had to write more. Also, I created a calendar of Yevon. I just thought you might like to know, as months are mentioned occasionally in some of my fics. ^_^
January: Shiva
February: Ramuh
March: Leviathan
April: Siren
May: Diablos
June: Yojimbo
July: Ifrit
August: Valefor
September: Bahamut
October: Hades
November: Ixion
December: Anima
Chapter Two: The Fool
It was a cold day in the month of Ramuh. I sat upon my throne, watching three travelers make their way through my Cloister of Trials. When they completed the first test, the room of puzzles, the glyphs on my elevator shone brightly, and my guardian, the Spectral Keeper, rose from the depths of my chamber. She was a morbidly beautiful creature, with scythe-like hands and a snaky lower region, floating suspended by my magic.
The tallest man was called Braska. He was the summoner. His elaborate red robes contrasted with his long, navy blue hair, which was braided into plaits that reached his knees. The second man was named Jecht. His shaggy, tousled hair reached his shoulders, and his bare shoulders showed his years of exercise. He fought with a blitzball, a toy that was not oft-regarded as a weapon. The last man was named Auron. He was intriguing. His muscled frame was not unlike Zaon's, and his face was handsome and smooth. He fought with a broadsword, with one arm tucked under his coat.
The Spectral Keeper swooped at Braska first. Braska dodged, and quickly summoned his most powerful Aeon, Siren. Siren was beautiful, a creature of loveliness. Her pale silver hair was shoulder-length and spiked at the bottom, and at the sides of her head, it blossomed into snowy wings. Another set of white wings sprouted from her back, contrasting well with her smooth chocolate skin. She wore a boustier and short skirt of diamonds and opals, and clutched a silver lyre in her right hand. Before the Spectral Keeper could react, Siren opened her silver lips and sang. It was a gospel, a requiem, a hymn of beauty. And as she sang to the heavens, the magical strumming of her lyre a countermelody, the ground shook. Waves of sound spiraled from her mouth, and the Spectral Keeper screamed, the sounds of her agony a perfect harmony to Siren's song.
When the Aeon's onslaught was complete, the Spectral Keeper shook. She exploded into pyreflies, and I summoned them to me. The three travelers had passed the second test. The glyphs on my elevator merged, and my personal glyph shone in the platform. It was the outline of me, with a halo pressed above my head. It was time for the third test.
I explained to them, atop the dome, about the Fayth of the Final Aeon. Braska thought that he could make Sin go away forever. He was ignorant. I did not disprove him, however. The man named Jecht decided to become the Fayth. His Zanarkand was unreachable. I did not want to tell him that it never existed. I could not bring myself to. I suppose I still had a trace of emotion then, though my heart had died nearly one thousand years before. Emotion took hold of me for one moment, and I felt a twinge of lust for the man in the red coat. Auron. He was so like Zaon.
When Jecht stepped up to my throne, I began the incantation. Jecht froze then, encased in a bubble of energy. There were tears in Auron's eyes as he looked at the transformation. Of course, then I did not understand. The tanned man was now a statue, and I lowered him into the ground. There, Braska summoned his Aeon. The creature was a giant boar, with rainbow wings spreading from his sides. His mane was a colorful as the rainbow, and Braska whispered his name. "Kjata."
Braska used Kjata to defeat Sin. When he died, he was named High Summoner. There had never been a post-mortis High Summoner before. Braska won the title because his defeat of Sin was the most glorious battle ever seen on the Calm Lands. Besides of course, mine. My battle was what caused that plain to be named the Calm Lands in the first place. I had decided to be more careful with the tests of the Summoner in Zanarkand's Cloister of Trials. I quickly destroyed the Fayth of Siren. With the Aeon gone, it would be harder to defeat my Spectral Keeper. I made the entryway into another puzzle. It would take a mastermind to pass through my trials now.
It was four years later, in the month of Hades. Sin had resurfaced. My attendant, Glorion, told me that I had a visitor. I smiled. I could sense the arrival of the one who had stirred my heart. It was Auron. He confronted me then. He asked me why I had allowed Braska and Jecht to perish for no reason. I asked him why it mattered to him what happened to them. The tears began to flow from his face. Of course. Why had I not seen it before? Auron and Jecht were lovers. I smiled again, to myself. And in that instant, all last vestiges of humanity I had left were stripped from my body. Auron leapt forward to strike me. I lifted one hand, and it was done. His neck snapped crudely, blood pouring from his nose as he crumpled to the ground. I telekinetically moved his sword and positioned it above him. I blinked, and the blade plunged through his heart.
He was a fool. There was no hope for him.
By Yagami Iori
A/N: Careful! Spoilers for Zanarkand! I love Yunalesca too much, so I had to write more. Also, I created a calendar of Yevon. I just thought you might like to know, as months are mentioned occasionally in some of my fics. ^_^
January: Shiva
February: Ramuh
March: Leviathan
April: Siren
May: Diablos
June: Yojimbo
July: Ifrit
August: Valefor
September: Bahamut
October: Hades
November: Ixion
December: Anima
Chapter Two: The Fool
It was a cold day in the month of Ramuh. I sat upon my throne, watching three travelers make their way through my Cloister of Trials. When they completed the first test, the room of puzzles, the glyphs on my elevator shone brightly, and my guardian, the Spectral Keeper, rose from the depths of my chamber. She was a morbidly beautiful creature, with scythe-like hands and a snaky lower region, floating suspended by my magic.
The tallest man was called Braska. He was the summoner. His elaborate red robes contrasted with his long, navy blue hair, which was braided into plaits that reached his knees. The second man was named Jecht. His shaggy, tousled hair reached his shoulders, and his bare shoulders showed his years of exercise. He fought with a blitzball, a toy that was not oft-regarded as a weapon. The last man was named Auron. He was intriguing. His muscled frame was not unlike Zaon's, and his face was handsome and smooth. He fought with a broadsword, with one arm tucked under his coat.
The Spectral Keeper swooped at Braska first. Braska dodged, and quickly summoned his most powerful Aeon, Siren. Siren was beautiful, a creature of loveliness. Her pale silver hair was shoulder-length and spiked at the bottom, and at the sides of her head, it blossomed into snowy wings. Another set of white wings sprouted from her back, contrasting well with her smooth chocolate skin. She wore a boustier and short skirt of diamonds and opals, and clutched a silver lyre in her right hand. Before the Spectral Keeper could react, Siren opened her silver lips and sang. It was a gospel, a requiem, a hymn of beauty. And as she sang to the heavens, the magical strumming of her lyre a countermelody, the ground shook. Waves of sound spiraled from her mouth, and the Spectral Keeper screamed, the sounds of her agony a perfect harmony to Siren's song.
When the Aeon's onslaught was complete, the Spectral Keeper shook. She exploded into pyreflies, and I summoned them to me. The three travelers had passed the second test. The glyphs on my elevator merged, and my personal glyph shone in the platform. It was the outline of me, with a halo pressed above my head. It was time for the third test.
I explained to them, atop the dome, about the Fayth of the Final Aeon. Braska thought that he could make Sin go away forever. He was ignorant. I did not disprove him, however. The man named Jecht decided to become the Fayth. His Zanarkand was unreachable. I did not want to tell him that it never existed. I could not bring myself to. I suppose I still had a trace of emotion then, though my heart had died nearly one thousand years before. Emotion took hold of me for one moment, and I felt a twinge of lust for the man in the red coat. Auron. He was so like Zaon.
When Jecht stepped up to my throne, I began the incantation. Jecht froze then, encased in a bubble of energy. There were tears in Auron's eyes as he looked at the transformation. Of course, then I did not understand. The tanned man was now a statue, and I lowered him into the ground. There, Braska summoned his Aeon. The creature was a giant boar, with rainbow wings spreading from his sides. His mane was a colorful as the rainbow, and Braska whispered his name. "Kjata."
Braska used Kjata to defeat Sin. When he died, he was named High Summoner. There had never been a post-mortis High Summoner before. Braska won the title because his defeat of Sin was the most glorious battle ever seen on the Calm Lands. Besides of course, mine. My battle was what caused that plain to be named the Calm Lands in the first place. I had decided to be more careful with the tests of the Summoner in Zanarkand's Cloister of Trials. I quickly destroyed the Fayth of Siren. With the Aeon gone, it would be harder to defeat my Spectral Keeper. I made the entryway into another puzzle. It would take a mastermind to pass through my trials now.
It was four years later, in the month of Hades. Sin had resurfaced. My attendant, Glorion, told me that I had a visitor. I smiled. I could sense the arrival of the one who had stirred my heart. It was Auron. He confronted me then. He asked me why I had allowed Braska and Jecht to perish for no reason. I asked him why it mattered to him what happened to them. The tears began to flow from his face. Of course. Why had I not seen it before? Auron and Jecht were lovers. I smiled again, to myself. And in that instant, all last vestiges of humanity I had left were stripped from my body. Auron leapt forward to strike me. I lifted one hand, and it was done. His neck snapped crudely, blood pouring from his nose as he crumpled to the ground. I telekinetically moved his sword and positioned it above him. I blinked, and the blade plunged through his heart.
He was a fool. There was no hope for him.