When Auron woke all he knew was pain and a sense of overwhelming failure. Not only had he failed in his revenge, but, judging from the agony that assaulted him, he had failed in his mission. He was dying. He could feel his life's blood leak out of him and seep into the dark floor upon which he lay. He kept his eyes shut for a moment, closing out reality, fighting the realization that he was alive and that he had to carry on.

Upon opening his eyes, Auron saw that he was alone. Yunalesca had apparently disappeared. He briefly wondered where the woman was, but decided it wasn't important so long as she wasn't a threat. He didn't try to move yet; first he would take in his surroundings. To his right, about a foot away was his giant katana. The blade was stuck in the floor not far from his right hand, its presence a reassurance. Seeing his arm, stretched out in front of him, he tried to move it to see if it was broken. He remembered landing on one of his shoulders, but he couldn't recall which one.

First he wiggled his fingers, then he shifted his arm slightly. This simple movement caused white-hot pain to tear through his left shoulder, starting at the collarbone. Great, Auron grimaced. His shoulder was the least of his worries, though. A broken collarbone wouldn't kill him. What would: was the gaping hole in his chest that was staining the floor with his life's blood. If he was going to keep his word to his friends he would have to do something about that wound now.

Very slowly, Auron slid his right hand closer to his belt, each inch gained causing a jolt of pain to shoot through his left shoulder. When his hand was inches from his right shoulder he shifted it so that he could reach the pouch hidden behind his sake jug that contained the healing potions. This slight shift caused him to put more weight on his injured collarbone. He felt the ends of the broken bones grind together and he cried out. Ignoring the pain, he slid his hand into the pouch and pulled out one of his two remaining potions. Finally returning to a somewhat comfortable position, he felt the shadows of unconsciousness try to overcome him. Fighting them back, he slowly and painfully propped himself up with his right arm. With great effort, he flipped himself over onto his back, crying out again as his left shoulder struck the floor. Weakly he reached for the potion and poured it over the wound. The bleeding stopped as the potion sped up the clotting process. The wound was far from healed, but it would buy him time.

Strength was slowly returning to the injured guardian. With that strength, Auron surveyed his wounds. The worse one was his blackened chest. The bleeding had stopped, but if he didn't get it fully healed soon it would kill him. Gently touching it, he winced. He figured he had about two days to live if he was lucky. His left collarbone was cleanly broken. He couldn't move his arm at all. If he was going to travel he would have to make a sling for it, but with what. Suddenly an idea came to him. He started to chuckle, but grew silent when he heard a note of hysteria in it. Carefully reaching across his chest, he grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled it up over his injured shoulder so that his elbow was tucked into the sleeve. The only part of his arm that was visible was his hand. It made a nice sling. That done he tried to sit up, fighting back the pain.

Now in a somewhat sitting position, he noticed that blood was trickling down his face. Slipping his right hand to his forehead he felt a slight opening where his head had hit the floor. Reaching back inside his pouch he pulled out a bandage and wrapped it around his head, his first attempt illustrating how much he had taken his left arm for granted. Looking down at his chest, he saw that what was left of his leather shirt was acting as a makeshift bandage. For that, he was grateful.

Auron looked around the room again. His sword was now right behind him and there was still no sign of Yunalesca. He clenched his fist. Better if he would never see that witch again. With the little jolt of energy his rage gave him, he stood. At first his legs wobbled and he had to grip his sword for support, but after a few moments he was able to stand on his own. He looked over his shoulder at the stairs that lead down to Braska's body. I will find Yuna, my lord. This I vow.

Turning back around, Auron clenched his fist. I will get to your Zanarkand, Jecht. I will find a way to beat Sin.

Good.

Auron nodded, pulled his sword onto his shoulder, and left the ruined Zanarkand.

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Author's note: I hope the details didn't bore anyone. I just felt that they were a necessary part of the story. I wanted to emphasize the pain that Auron had to go through. Please review to let me know if I should continue to post it here. I hope you are enjoying it. I promise that there will be more action in later chapters.