Chapter 23

The urgency in Auron's orders did not go unnoticed. His long strides ate up the ground between himself and his own tent before he ducked into the canvas structure, presumably to retrieve his weapon. My own legs were short and wobbly in comparison. I ran as well as I could manage to the tents of each of my fellow guardians, and finally to Yuna's, altering each to the imminent arrival of our pursuers. Finally, I dashed into my own tent, groped around in the dark for my claw and felt myself fastening it to my right arm, purely by instinct in the darkness.

When the weapon was secure, I left the shelter much the same way I'd entered, on feet made unsteady by the combined pressures of impending attack and my encounter with Auron and Yuna. In the back of my mind, I harbored no doubt that the elder guardian would have little difficulty compartmentalizing his emotions in such a way as to permit him to focus completely on the upcoming battle. I was a different story entirely. As much as I adored the swordsman and yearned to pick up even a modicum of his self-control, I was utterly unable to quell my nerves. A sigh escaped me as I met the others in front of the dying fire at the center of our campsite. There was precious little time for self-examination at the moment. I endeavored to focus all of my thoughts and energies on the events that were about to transpire.

From the noise that our pursuers made no effort to hide, there was little doubt that they comprised a sizable force. Likely, each individual soldier would lack the skill that each of our guardians had with his or her chosen weapon although their numbers and superior armament would more than make up the difference. My fevered mind began to envision the worst scenarios that could befall our party. For once, I was glad not to be in a position of authority. Auron was right...as always. Such things were better left to those who had the capacity to maintain their cool under the most difficult of circumstances.

The muffled pounding of troops in lock step grew louder and more disconcerting with each passing second. I lost all track of time as I stood in dread, capable only of waiting for them to finally reveal themselves. My companions held hushed conversations, verbalizing their concerns over what to expect, Tidus with Yuna, Wakka with Lulu. Kimahri and Auron, veteran warriors they were, remained silent and alert, keeping aware for any information that might aid them in whatever lay ahead. Ordinarily, I wouldn't have hesitated to speak to Auron, to avail myself of his knowledge, his experience...and his ability to calm my frayed nerves. However, my actions and words to Auron in Yuna's tent created a gulf betwixt us that would be long in healing, if it ever did.

Our attackers finally became visible through the brush as they moved swiftly in a pincer formation to surround us. The forces of the enemy appeared to be a combination of Yevon warrior monks and the Guado soldiers who always accompanied Maester Seymour. When the grunts were in position and the officers believed us safely contained, the senior warrior monk made an impatient motion with his hand. The ranks began to part from the rear to the front and two dark forms made their way forward. Even shadowed, I could make out that the taller and lankier of the pair was clad in elaborate finery and his hair arranged in an outlandish fashion. Seymour. But who was the other, shorter one with the shaven head and simple, foot length robe? Kinoc?

We didn't have to wait long to find out. The pair strode confidently past the front line of troops, taking care only to maintain their distance from each other and confirming my guesses as to their identities. So, they didn't trust each other...good. Maybe it was something we could use to our advantage. We would need everything we could muster to have a chance of prevailing against the force arrayed in front of, and around us. No words passed between the two Maesters of Yevon, their differences irreconcilable. Each eyed the other suspiciously, going to great lengths to hide his distrust of his supposed ally.

The soldiers of both factions were present for a reason, and the slightest hand motion from the hybrid Maester caused the monk standing behind Kinoc to take a couple of silent steps foward. I was mildly surprised at the fact that the warrior monk obeyed Seymour, since it was technically Kinoc to whom the monks owed their loyalty. Seymour must be consolidating his hold on the Yevon hierarchy, which could only have disastrous consequences for any rivals. The other Maester appeared to be oblivious to the motion and the signal behind him, instead focusing his attention on Auron.

The old friends locked gazes and an indecipherable look formed on what I could see of Auron's coutenance. Since the encounter in Yuna's tent, he'd donned his familiar collar and dark glasses which served to obscure his facial expressions quite well. His gloved right hand strayed to the handle of the katana strapped to his back, but did not yet begin to draw the weapon. The gesture must have been intended as a warning, as if to say that Auron would fight Kinoc if need be, regardless of their history. I imagined that I knew Auron well enough to wager all the gil I had that his demeanor was one of pained regret, and of course, Auron would never want another person to become aware of it. Not even me, perhaps me least of all.

Neither of the friends addressed one another, their feelings and loyalties far beyond any mode of conveyance offered by mere words. Did Auron share my suspiscions about what Seymour would order next? Had he even caught the minute gesture made by the Maester and the corresponding movement behind Kinoc? I had no manner of warning Auron of my sense of foreboding quickly enough. Another flick of Seymour's wrist commanded the monk to fix the bayonet on his rifle and lunge forward, plunging the weapon into the unprotected back of his leader. The weapon struck true and the bald Maester slumped to the ground. A smug look passed over Seymour's pale face.

I glanced hurriedly from Seymour to Auron just in time for the latter's anguished shout. "Kinoc!" For once, the red robed guardian did not bother to hide the emotion that claimed him. He spasmed visibly as the body of the last remaining link to his former life impacted the ground. His hand did not leave the weapon strapped to his back. The swordsman's eye narrowed behind his glasses and he whipped the blade out of its scabbard, falling into a combat stance and readying it in front of him instead of resting it on his shoulder as was his custom. The rest of the guardians and Yuna followed suit, adopting their own battle stances and looking to Auron for direction.

Impulsively, Tidus called out. "Why, you!" I had the impression that Auron would rather have put the question to Seymour had he not been preempted by the blitzballer.

Calmly, Seymour regarded each of us in turn, a perverse smile spreading over his features. His voice remained calm and level, perhaps to mock us, especially Auron. "I have saved him. He was a man who craved power. And great power he had, but he feared losing it. Trembling at unseen enemies, scheming petty schemes." The hybrid Maester's gaze bore into Auron, his haunting words taking a further toll on the already beleaguered guardian. To Auron's credit, he did not shrink beneath the Maester's chilling look or his words.

Seymour continued in the same infuriatingly sweet monotone. "Chased by his fears, never knowing rest. You see..." The statement clearly carried a double meaning. Seymour must have been hinting that deep inside, Auron shared the same kind of existence. An Unsent tortured by regrets of a life long gone. "Now he has no worries. He has been granted sleep eternal."

The Maester's tone at once took on a taunting quality and he did not look away from Auron. Did Seymour really think he'd discovered somekind of eternal, irrefutable truth he felt the need to rub the guardian's face in? "Death is a sweet slumber. All the pain of life is gently swept away...ah, yes." Was he taking satisfaction in this macabre revelation? "So you see...if all life were to end in Spira, all suffering would end. Don't you see? Do you not agree?" The last was uttered in a gentle, enticing tone. Seymour truly believed his own words and hoped to evoke the same kind of belief in his captive audience.

Auron could barely restrain himself. The weight of another friend's death had fully impacted him now, combined with the events of earlier this evening, and the everpresent pull of the Farplane hinted at by Seymour tore the guardian wide open. He tried to steady his massive weapon in his shaky hands, but his fury refused to acquiesce. For the first time I could recall, I was thankful that his features were hidden from view. I shuddered when I envisioned what must be displayed on them at this moment. He remained silent but his rage crescendoed in a terrible cacophony of feeling and cascaded over me through the borrowed bits of his emotion I still held within. I clenched my fists instinctively and hated myself for my cruelty to the man earlier this evening, for never having had the opportunity to patch things up with him afterward. How could I have known this would happen? I hated him, too, for being capable of this depth of feeling after so many years of maintaining himself within his predetermined bounds. It would have been so much easier if he truly were dead inside instead of simply electing to believe the lie that had sustained him.

This rage...it was both fresh and old. The feelings that threatened to take him over completely were on the verge of doing so. An echo from the past demonstrated what would happen if Auron gave in or lost the struggle. It was the same way he must have felt when he returned to Zanarkand ten years ago, alone, to demand answers from Yunalesca. The very same dangerous passion that had ultimately driven him to his death. I wanted to shout at him...Step back from it, Auron! Don't give in! I could not find my voice. The words I yearned to say bubbled up lethargically from the depths of my mind and died on my tongue. After the third try, I gave up on vocalizing them and repeated them within my own head, desperately willing him to be aware of my warnings, and my underlying affection for him. I prayed to any entity greater than myself that Auron would find the strength to prevail.

Auron won the battle for the moment, and we watched, transfixed as Seymour turned to face Yuna and continue his monologue on the merits of death. "That, Yuna, is why I need you. Come, Lady Yuna. Come with me to Zanarkand, the lost city of the dead." He beckoned her toward him with voice and hands. "With death on our side, we will save Spira, and for this...I will take from you, Yuna, your strength, your life, and become the next Sin. I will destroy Spira, I will save it!" Passion slowly crept into Seymour's voice as he outlined his plan. He seemed particularly inspired every time he mentioned death.

Yuna regarded him in complete horror and shook her head slowly. She opened her mouth to speak a blunt refusal to him, but Seymour raised a hand to forestall her. "Very well, I will give you your death, you seem to want it so." How very presumptuous of him...to the Guado leader, all roads must, of necessity, point toward death. He slowly raised the rod in his left hand, spoke a single word, and the soldiers in his immediate area fell to the ground, clutching their chests. Their forms and Kinoc's burst apart into a swarm of pyreflies, which rose and swirled around the Maester's glowing body.

Seymour's eyes closed and he glanced heavenward. In a blinding flash of light, his humanoid body was replaced by a large off-white form bearing amethyst-hued armor and wings. The vast majority of the remaining warrior monks reacted to the transformation with pure terror. Most dropped their weapons and ran in the direction of Bevelle. Never had I thought I'd see the crack warrior monks of Yevon break formation and run. Only a handful of the Guado remained beside their leader, prepared to follow him even in this incarnation.

In that instant, Auron found his voice and unleashed his temper on the alien-looking Seymour. "He may no longer have been the man I once knew, but Kinoc was my friend, Seymour. You will pay for his death!" Such a display was decidedly unlike Auron, but I could identify with what he was feeling. The sensation and the word resonated within me and I found myself moved by his display of loyalty for a friend who, in the end, had ceased to be himself and betrayed Auron. The pain in his voice was tangible and the captive emotions and memories of his that I held magnified the sensation.

Auron didn't wait for Seymour to respond to the threat. He launched himself at the monster that had taken Seymour's place, but still possessed the Maester's awareness. Auron's burning anger allowed him to invoke a powerful, and seldom-used technique. The result of his lightning-quick strike were devastating. The creature reeled from the blow, a terrible gash opened in its flesh even through the armor shell. A sickly green liquid oozed from the wound as the creature flailed its limbs to preclude a repeat of the attack. Auron retreated to the safety of the the group, where he fell back to regain his stamina and prepare for his next assault.

Yuna used the opportunity to begin chanting a series of protective spells to shield herself and each guardian from physical and magical harm. Her shields would not be strong enough to prevent our taking damage from either kind of attack, although they would act to significantly reduce the impact of whatever Seymour would throw at us. Emboldened by the protections, Tidus followed Auron's lead and charged at Seymour, preparing to execute a daring, potentially fatal blow. His strike failed to find its mark as expertly as Auron's had, but still managed to inflict heavy damage on the Maester's grotesque body.

This time, Seymour was better prepared for the attack and took the blow, but had a counterattack in mind for the moment in which Tidus would be vulnerable following his charge. The creature lashed out with a series of elemental spells cast in swift succession, striking multiple party members. The blitzball player's return to the group was harried by the repeated flamestrikes, and I found myself engulfed in a firestorm, as did Wakka and Lulu. Yuna did her best to heal what damage she could, but her efforts alone would not be sufficient to repair the harm we suffered. I reached into my belt pouch and withdrew a potion, took a sip, and passed it to Wakka, instructing him to do the same. Between the two of us, Yuna and I managed to keep the rest of the guardians on their feet and prepared for the next round of battle.

Seymour seized the initiative as we recovered, launching a Flare spell at the right side of our formation. The shields cast by Yuna performed their function, and what would have been a searing assault of heat and light was lessened to a painful hail of discomfort. I felt the strength of the wards begin to fade after absorbing the brunt of the Flare, and wondered how long they would hold up if the battle continued this way. Fervently, I urged Yuna to summon her most powerful Aeon, focusing all of her desperation into calling forth the being in an enraged state.

My cousin took the suggestion and began chanting an invocation of her newest Aeon, Bahamut. Wakka and Kimahri kept Seymour distracted while she completed the spell, giving and taking minor blows, but accomplishing nothing other than inflicting some additional wounds. Their efforts bought her enough time to complete the chant, and soon, the cloud-shrouded sky seemed to part as a ferocious dragon streamed toward our position. Wisely, the group members ducked out of the way just in time for the beast's arrival. Yuna's plea must have succeeded, because Bahamut launched a Flare of his own that dwarfed Seymour's in magnitude. The spell was so intense that I averted my eyes for fear of damaging them merely by watching the light that engulfed Seymour's body.

Bahamut's attack was not quite sufficient to finish off the Maester, and with a single gesture, Seymour created a shockwave that traveled through the air and banished the Aeon. The ripple impacted more than just the summon, the backlash continued on to the Summoner herself, causing Yuna to tumble backward without making any effort to break the fall. Instinctively, I rushed to the side of my fallen cousin, too late to intercept her before she hit the ground, but I made an attempt to shelter her from the followup that Seymour was sure to make. Sure enough, mere seconds after killing the Aeon, Seymour pressed his advantage and launched a barrage of spells toward myself and my cousin. My failing shield absorbed the first few collisions, but the stream of bolts persisted. They began hitting in rapid succession, forcing me into extreme pain and finally, blackness.

Seeing Yuna and Rikku go down within second of each other boded poorly for our group. In no uncertain terms, I instructed the remainder of the guardians to hold their positions and focus on eliminating Seymour. Further attempts to aid our Summoner, hurt though she may be, or Rikku, could only end in further casualties. Training and experience compelled me to remain calm as the two people who mattered most to me lay unconscious, in Yevon knew what state of injury. I tore my gaze from the their lax bodies and prepared to make another attack on Seymour.

My blade suddenly seemed heavier than I remembered, my movements slow and labored in comparison to normal. Seymour must have attempted to sap my strength and energy. I tried to resist the assault as best I was able, but could not put as much momentum behind my strike as I would have hoped. When I did swing, the blade slid harmlessly along the armor of the creature, clattering ineffectually to the ground. Straining, I moved the sword back to its resting place on my right shoulder and retreated to our line. Wakka saw me struggling and handed me the remainder of the potion I'd seen Rikku hand him earlier in the engagement. If I had the energy, I would have scowled at him, but he was right, I needed the contents of that bottle to be of any further use in the battle. I poured the rest of the liquid into my mouth, swallowed, and felt my strength begin to return.

In the meantime, Tidus, Kimahri, and Wakka had been preparing a simultaneous attack, hoping to deliver the killing blow. I watched them as I waited for the potion to remove the last traces of Seymour's spell from my body. From different directions, all three charged the towering monster, while Lulu hurled a bolt of energy at it to draw Seymour's attention. The ploy worked. While Seymour moved to evade the magical projectile, he fell right into the trap set by the others, realizing it too late to escape their attacks. When they were finished, Seymour's form lay on the ground, unmoving and fading quickly. He reverted to his more familiar, half-Guado appearance, cluctching his abdomen.

Before the others could move in to prevent an escape, the Maester's retainers hauled him to his feet and ran back toward Bevelle as quickly as they could bearing their burden. Tidus looked in my direction.

"Should we follow?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Yuna's safety is our first priority. We should see how badly she's hurt, and begin making preparations to leave. Seymour won't be foolish enough to fail again, and when he makes his next try, we should be as far from this place as possible."

Tidus nodded in understanding, and with Kimahri, removed Rikku's crumpled form from its place on top of her cousin, carrying her toward her tent. Wakka and Lulu stood guard to make sure that no one would interfere without our recovery and care of the wounded. I went to Yuna's side and knelt, placing one hand on her shoulder, and shaking her gently.

A muffled, incoherent sound escaped her. Good, at least she was regaining conciousness. "How are you feeling?" I inquired.

She dragged herself to a sitting position, using my body for support, and then rubbed her head with both hands. "Ok...I think, for the most part. I have a splitting headache, though. We won, I take it?"

I nodded, thankful that the headache appeared to be the only lasting result of Seymour's attack. Briefly, I recounted what took place after she'd lost consciousness.

"Rikku...is she going to be ok?"

"Kimahri and Tidus took her to one of the tents. I haven't been to see her yet, so I don't know anything about her condition." I endeavored to remove all traces of emotion from my voice. It was more difficult than usual, through my mental, physical, and emotional fatigue. There would be time to rest, later, when we were safely away. Until then, I could not afford to indulge in the luxury of thought beyond our immediate needs. Kinoc's death, like Rikku...would have to wait, I thought regrettably.

Yuna regarded me with a puzzled look. "You should go to her, she needs you more than I do."

Not this again...not now, Yuna, I begged silently. Please just accept my decisions without argument. But I could not force my views on her, she was, afterall, the Summoner and I the guardian irregardless of age or experience. In the end it was her pilgrimage above all else, her life on the line, her battle with Sin...except she had no way of knowing it wasn't quite that simple. That was a discussion, and a revelation, for another time. More harshly than I intented, I explained, "No one ever needs me more than my Summoner."

If possible, she looked even more shocked. A few seconds later, her expression changed to an amused smile. What was she up to? "In that case, Sir Auron, your Summoner requires you to check up on Rikku's condition," she ordered, her tone only half serious. "Really, I'm fine."

I helped her to her feet and she took a few steps as if to demonstrate that she would be alright on her own. Arguing further with her would have been pointless, so I did as she suggested. When I peeked into Rikku's tent, she was still unconscious. Tidus and Kimahri must have bandaged her wounds while I spoke with Yuna. I thought for a moment, and then called Yuna over.

We decided to begin breaking camp and set out for the Calm Lands. I was fairly sure that I could carry the Al Bhed the required distance with little trouble, since staying here would put all of us in danger. While the others set about dismantling the tents, putting out the fire, and packing the supplies, I wrapped Rikku securely in her blankets and lifted her gently into my arms. It took me a few tries to find a position that was comfortable for both of us, and that I could bear to maintain over the distance ahead of us.