Authors Note: If you haven't beaten the game... there be spoilers here, arr.





I delivered the poor who cried,
and the orphan who had no helper.
The blessing of the wretched came upon me,
and I caused the widow's heart to sing for joy.
I put on righteousness, and it clothed me;
my justice was like a robe.
I was eyes to the blind, and feet to the lame.
I was a father to the needy,
and I championed the cause of the stranger.
I broke the fangs of the unrighteous,
and made them drop their prey from their teeth.

---- Job 29:12





Otherworld Year Three: Chapter 1




The crowd rose to its feet as one, the sound deafening, as they cheered the goal by their hometown Abes. The loudspeakers erupted with babbled commentary from the announcers, causing the sea of fans to vociferate louder still in mindless ecstasy.

The inebriated man sitting to Auron's left rose awkwardly to his feet, Auron moving slightly to the right to avoid the man's beefy elbow as it swept past his head. Tidus was jumping up and down on his right... pumping his arm in the air and whooping with delight.

Auron sat placidly... his legs crossed in front of him, his arms folded against his chest, patiently enduring the useless entertainment for Tidus' sake. Children under twelve were not permitted entrance to the Blitzball stadium unless accompanied by an adult, and he had finally agreed to accompany Tidus to a game, after weeks of incessant badgering.

The crowd began to calm somewhat, and the drunken fan on the left returned unsteadily to his seat, the plastic cup in his hand tipping... sloshing a good portion of its contents onto Auron's lower pant leg and boot. The man looked down, then up at Auron, the idiotic grin fleeing from his face, as it met the piercing glare of Auron's eye over the top of his sunglasses. "Oh, heey, zorry bout dat." The man breathed at Auron, his breath reeking of cheap ale.

"Perhaps it would be best if you sat elsewhere." Auron said, a quiet undertone of menace in his voice. He'd had quite enough of this besotted fool, and he didn't care for the idea of Tidus being forced to witness the man's drunkenness... fully aware of the boy's sensitivity on the matter.

"I kin sit anyweer I damn well pease, jess who do you think you are?" The man slurred, frowning and swinging his arm in front of him to demonstrate his entitlement.

Auron leaned in close to the man, letting the crowd noise do the rest to cover the low rumble of his voice... "I think I am the person, who is going to take that cup from you, and place it in a location you will find extremely painful. Move. Now."

The man's eyes grew wide, as Auron's intent finally sank in to his befuddled brain. Lurching to his feet, he staggered off down the row... bouncing off several spectators, as they roughly pushed him away in disgust.

Auron sighed and turned back to the Blitz Sphere, trying with little success to interest himself in the contest. He turned to look at Tidus... sitting on the edge of his seat, his eyes darting from one player to the next, a grin of pure joy lighting up his face.

A smile briefly touched Auron's mouth. It was good to see Tidus enjoying himself... the past year had not been easy for him. He supposed it was worth enduring, if it made the boy happy for awhile.

************

Tidus was gleefully tossing the new Blitzball Auron had purchased for him as they wound their way through the throng of spectators leaving the stadium, Auron keeping Tidus slightly in front of him... constantly scanning for threats. He automatically fell into the role of guardian whenever they were out together... it was something he did subconsciously, not even thinking about it.

They left the heavy foot traffic behind, as they turned down the road toward Jecht's houseboat. Tidus jabbered excitedly about the game... going over every important play and voicing his opinions about each player's strengths and weaknesses. Auron didn't speak... their frequent one-sided conversations not requiring his participation.

While Tidus rambled on about the game, Auron was thinking he needed to pay a visit to the Blitz Ball Association, and get Tidus signed up for formal training. He would be old enough in just a few months. Physically Tidus was ready, but Auron was unsure about how he would handle the emotional burden. It would not be easy living up to expectations as the son of Jecht.

Listen to yourself Auron, he thought, shaking his head... you're beginning to sound like a parent. Although he knew the boy would never accept him in that role. Tidus and he were too dissimilar, the boy too fiercely independent, for a bond such as that. But it mattered not. He was bound by his promise to Jecht and would continue to watch over Tidus, irregardless of the boy's indifference.

************

Auron climbed the last few steps of the exterior stairway to find Gabe reclined on one of the chairs on the balcony... his feet propped on the railing, his hands laced behind his head, and a large cigar smoldering between his teeth.

"Hope you don't mind, it's such a nice night, I thought I'd enjoy the view for awhile." Gabe said, from around his cigar.

"Would it matter if I minded?" Auron asked with a smirk.

"Not in the least." Gabe grinned, reaching into his pocket and pulling out another cigar. "Care to join me?" He offered, extending the cigar toward Auron.

"No thanks."

Truth be told, the smell was intriguing. But he had never smoked in his life, and he was not about to give Gabe the pleasure of watching him turn several shades of green and lose his supper over the side of the railing.

"Suit yerself. But one of these days, I'm going to find your weak spot... damned if I won't." Gabe sneered.

"Hmph." Auron snorted, as he lowered himself to the chair next to Gabe.

Gabe watched curiously, as Auron brought one leg up and pulled his boot off, then brought it to his nose, sniffing the leather, and sighing as he dropped it to the deck.

"What's that all about?"

"Don't ask." Auron replied, removing his other boot and leaning back in the chair.

They spent some time that way, in companionable silence... gazing out at the sea of lights from the city that never slept.

************

Auron sat on the edge of his bed, the room in darkness, as he downed the last of the sake from his cup. Some nights, it was the only thing that allowed him to sleep, and he considered himself fortunate to have discovered a kura here. It was a reminder of home, and thus a small measure of comfort in this place.

He sunk back on the bed, and laid one arm across his forehead... letting his thoughts wander aimlessly, as he drifted into sleep.

************

"Auron! Hey Auron, ya big stiff... it's me.

There's some serious shit you need to know about, so pay attention. This ain't easy for me, in fact, it hurts like hell, and I don't know how long I can do this... so listen good, 'cause I won't be repeatin' myself.

Me and Tidus, Zanarkand, Sin, the Pilgrimages, all of it, the whole frigging thing is a giant instant-replay. It's never gonna stop. They want it that way. Yu Yevon, the asshole in charge here... his daughter Yunalesca... and those jerk-offs in Bevelle.

I think I've figured out a way to stop 'em. But it's all gonna be up to you man... you're gonna have to take the ball."

Jecht's voice continued in Auron's subconscious mind for some time... imparting all that he had learned, and what he was planning, and then faded... a sound of deep pain in his voice through his last words.

Auron awoke to find himself standing next to the bed, his hands pressed to the sides of his head... Jecht's message to him in his sleep a burning brand, searing into his mind.

It could not be true. It could not. Everything he had fought for... meaningless, all that he had ever believed in... a lie.

All their lives nothing more than sad chapters penned in blood by the power hungry hands of Yevon. The tale's ending written before their stories even began. Unwitting pawns, tricked into perpetuating the very thing they sought to destroy... and he had been a part of it. He had spent his whole life serving the corrupt bastards.

He had thought the resurrection of Sin the cruelest wrong... his friends giving their lives for a momentary reprieve the most senseless. This made that evil pale in comparison.

A thousand years of death and suffering, and for what? To protect the honor and immortality of Yu Yevon... the ruler of Zanarkand, the creator of Sin. The cycle intentionally eternalized by his spawn, Yunalesca... the reaper of souls.

He knew it all now, the truth and the lies... and the enormity of it was more than he could bear.

He collapsed to his knees with a choked sound, and leaned forward, pounding one fist against the floor, as silent, bitter tears tracked down his anguished face and fell, glistening, between his outstretched hands.

When at last his tears were spent, he rose slowly to his feet, and in a numb trance, dressed himself. Then taking his sword from its place on the wall, he turned and left the apartment, his heavy boot falls echoing on the stairs.

***********

Auron stood at the shoreline, gripping the hilt of his sword, his clothes strewn across the sand at his back, gazing out at the dark water... his face a hardened stone, his eye a molten pool.

He brought the blade of his sword to the tensed curve of his left pectoral, drawing it across the flesh above his heart... rivulets of crimson beginning to track down the sculpted ridges of his chest and stomach.

Then thrusting his arm forward, he presented the bloodied blade to the crashing surf and the ocean beyond, as he unleashed a primal cry from the depths of his soul... a bone freezing sound of rage and challenge.

I am coming for you, it said.

He would wait upon it, he would prepare for it, and when Jecht came for them, he would be ready. He would not fail in this. He would see Yu Yevon destroyed. For Braska, for Jecht, for Spira. He would burn with it, beat himself against it, until he flew apart... until he was no more.

Auron felt an amputation of feeling cutting into his heart, a hardened carapace of purpose spreading outward to encase its pain... he had wept his last.

************

Gabe was shocked by Auron's appearance when he came to work the next morning... his unshaven face was deathly pale, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes, the scar on his face more pronounced against his wanness.

Gabe asked him if he was ill, but Auron had merely replied that he was fine, in a tone of voice that suggested Gabe drop it.

In the days that followed, Gabe noticed changes in Auron that caused him even more concern, and left him confused as to what possibly could have occured to make the man behave this way.

Auron seemed to have lost something. Something profound. His innocence most certainly, and his humanity to a degree... he had become cold and withdrawn.

Gabe tried to get him to talk about it, but Auron had merely shook his head without replying... silently telling Gabe he wouldn't discuss it. He had never been one to share his thoughts and feelings, but his silent stoicism was like an impenetrable fortress now.

As the weeks and months passed, Auron seemed to resign himself to whatever he had experienced, and became more like his old self. But he was really never the same after that.