- - -
Before dawn, the two Al-Bhed and the single impostor were standing in the lobby, about ready to go. Zysac was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and Rikku was negotiating the price of some cloaks from Myesa.
They all tiptoed around when they had to move, and spoke in hushed whispers when communication was necessary. They did not want to wake the other guests.
Somehow, however, just as they had finally wrapped up for the trek up the mountain, just as Zysac adjusted the heavy pack of supplies on his back, a stranger emerged from the hall.
It was a girl, or young woman, wearing a long dress of black with a pattern of purplish flames rising up from the hem. The sleeves were incredibly long and they went wide towards her hands, which hung low. Over all of this she had a lighter cloak with a white collar that was attached with a gold charm at her neck. The cloak went down to her knees in back, but in the front it only covered her arms. On it were black flames over a light purple background, the opposite of her dress.
Her face was unmistakable: The lines crossing over her forehead, eyes and cheeks were sure signs of Guado heritage. Her hair was frizzy and red, and stuck out in two small pigtails behind her strangely long and pointed ears. And her eyes were cold, fixed determinedly on Yuna.
"Good morning," Yuna said cordially, wiping away the delicate silence that penetrated the air.
The Guado girl raised her head and inspected Yuna intently. She did not even waste her eyes on Rikku or Zysac. Her lips were closed, folded tightly over one another in a fine line.
"Let's get going," Rikku said in Al-Bhed, and she walked to open the door. Zysac followed obediently. Yuna was close behind, but she gave two polite nods to the remaining occupants of the Travel Agency.
They had walked several yards when they realized they had company. The Guado had pursued, had jogged and was now catching up. Rikku growled audibly.
"What are you—?" began the younger woman, but Yuna interrupted.
"Hello, is there something you need from us?" she said to the newcomer.
"You are Lady Yuna," the girl said. Her voice was crisp, high but somehow as cold as the air around them. "You are Lord Seymour's widow."
Yuna wondered if she should explain—if you could explain. Should she say, "But Seymour was dead when I married him," or something like that? Instead, she just stood, and wondered, and the girl stared back.
Rikku seemed upset that the disguise she had worked so hard on was transparent to a dirty Guado, among all things. She moved from side to side gingerly, almost in her old battle stance.
"I would recognize you everywhere after all you did," said the Guado, and, somehow, Yuna knew not to take this as a compliment, as such comments usually were intended. How could a compliment be delivered in such a disgusted tone of voice? The stranger sneered, "I'm not stupid like them." She gestured with her head back towards the building where they had all spent the night.
"What, your friends?" Yuna tried to say, but the wind and the dry snow came up in a roar and soon they were surrounded with a white sandstorm, which bit angrily into their skin.
"I'll be watching," Yuna thought she heard the Guado say next. But when wind settled down a few moments later, she was alone with her two traveling companions.
"What a creep," moaned Rikku, pulling the coverings around herself, especially her sleek, otherwise bare legs. "Let's just hurry up before this blizzard gets any worse—or those weirdos track us down."
Yuna nodded. Rikku's bad mood had failed to evaporate over night, like she had hoped. And the boy was still quiet, shivering in the unfamiliar cold. This was his first time traveling away from Bikanel Island since New Home had begun, and his very first experience in the north.
They started up the steep slope, careful to stick to the middle of the precarious path, their feet crunching with each slow step. It was slow going and a bit scary at times when the wind came up. At these points, Yuna crouched down so that her knees scraped the surface of the snow. She was worried about getting knocked off balance, off the path, and perhaps off this world.
Rikku, who was more sure footed, would stand and huddle and complain for the few minutes until the wind finally rested long enough for them to continue.
Zysac would plant his feet firmly in the snow. He seemed like wanted to tremble in fear, but his dignity prohibited such behavior. He was a teenage boy accompanied by two older women, and he was afraid to show such weakness to them, enough though he felt like he was riddled with it constantly.
It was in this way they found their way eventually to the Ronso village of Mount Gagazet, a place hidden past a remote peak, carved from the sacred stone itself. The houses were protected in this manmade valley, but they still were built of sturdy logs, which had been painstakingly transported up the mountain during better months.
From every rooftop came a giant plume of smoke from the life-giving fires burning inside, although the thick fur of the Ronso usually seemed to be sufficient protection against the cold wind.
From the peak, there was a carved staircase with huge, wide stairs that led down into the depths of the densely populated valley. The stairs were treacherous, first caked with snow, and then with a layer of ice on the surface. The travelers lost their footing more than once, but managed to catch themselves (or each other) on these occasions.
Yuna bowed out of habit once they had finally reached safe, flat land. The Ronso had created a layer of soil a few feet deep on the bottom of the valley, so that they could grow the heartiest of plants in summer time. So, there was consequently less ice, even on the well-beaten path of crunched snow.
"Hey!" Rikku called out to some children who were rolling around joyously in the snow.
The children got up reluctantly and skipped over. They were two small girls, their bodies coated in thick, dark fur, and their clothes the small dresses of the females of their kind. They had no horns, like their male counterparts, having only lighter fur on the tops of their heads and decorative bands over their bright eyes.
Rikku bent over and smiled at them. "Hey there," she greeted cheerfully. "Would you run and find Kimahri for us, hmm?"
The girls looked at each other, nodded, then turned to face Rikku, and nodded again. "Yes, Miss Rikku," they said politely, speaking more fluidly than Yuna had ever known a Ronso to speak. As for Yuna, the girls grinned at her, too, and at Zysac, only a bit more shyly.
As they scurried off, Rikku twisted around in her boots on the soft snow. "The storm apparently isn't so bad here," she said. Her mood seemed to have lightened when she saw the young children.
"Do you know those girls? They are very cute," Yuna said. The only people she was used to seeing were those who came and paid her endless visits back on Besaid. Not many Ronso came, and none of the race's children had made the journey.
Rikku nodded. "We played some games with 'Teacher Kimahri' when I was last here… Speaking of that, the weather was a lot nicer then," she added, the dark cloud rushing back over her blond head.
Yuna folded her hands in front of her loosely and looked around with polite curiosity. She really should have come here before, come to visit Kimahri. When this was all over, she might travel a lot more, she considered. She wouldn't let herself think that an ill end might come from all of this, or that when she finally came home, she would have too much work to do getting rid of suitors.
In a few minutes, a giant man emerged, even though he was not quite a giant among his own people. His fur was a deep shade of blue, with some grays and whites. On his back were wings, among all things, and a broken horn protruded from his forehead over shining golden eyes.
"Kimahri!" Yuna greeted happily, and she came up to her old friend and embraced him. She had not seen him for over a year. "It's good to see you."
Kimahri flashed his awkward-looking smile earnestly down at her. At first he was confused, but she was unmistakable to someone who had stayed at her side for over ten years. "Yuna."
"Kimahri, how 'bout you show us ladies some manners and take us inside, huh?" Rikku suggested teasingly.
Kimahri nodded and he led them to a large house at one end of the village. Inside, a dozen children were scuttling around, some tending the two fires on either end of the enormous main room, others dusting or wiping tables, and one or two were even huddled into corners pouring over old books.
The Ronso man had his new guests sit at a small round table on the far end of the room, right next to one of the fireplaces. One of the girls from before brought a plate with hot drinks and some warm snacks, bread stuffed with various seasoned meats and vegetables. Ronso cooking wasn't too everyone's liking, and it usually was minimalist due to the lack of fresh food sources. However, the children had just happened to be experimenting with new recipes for the afternoon meal.
"Why visit with storm?" Kimahri asked.
"We're on a mission!" Rikku exclaimed, happy due to the warmth filling her stomach from the food. "Hey, these are good!" she commented, taking another of the cylindrical buns. A few of the Ronso children beamed in the background, unnoticed.
"Mission?"
"About that sphere you found," Yuna explained, and she was unable to disguise her eagerness. "With…him…" She took the thing from her pouch, where it had been since the first day she watched it.
"The broken sphere," was all the Ronso said, but he nodded his great head up and own, the two braids swinging from side to side.
"I don't know if it's broken," Rikku said, "but it is a bit messed up. The picture's pretty bad. You can still kinda seem him, though."
"Where did you find it?" Yuna wanted to know.
Kimahri thought for a minute. "Children find it. Say it up near sacred wall…" Now he wore a distinct frown. "They should not play there."
Yuna felt chills travel her spine at the mention of the wall of fayth, the place where the dreams were created, where he was created…
"I don't get why it would be there." Rikku took a quick sip of the brownish drink, her lips pursing when she received the full bitterness of it. "Woah," she said quietly, and wasn't so thirsty all of a sudden.
Yuna turned the contorted object over and over in her hands, somehow afraid of turning it on. What if the image of him didn't appear, what if she couldn't hear his voice again, see him again?
"Should we go investigate?" Rikku asked. "Wait…the storm." She snapped her fingers.
"You stay here, I go look," Kimahri announced, standing.
"Ohh…let's just all wait around 'til the storm's over and go together." Rikku clasped her hands behind her head and leaned back in a very relaxed position. Now that the blood was moving steadily in her veins, she felt good. "Yunie has to see this for herself, you know?"
"I get rooms," he announced, and went off to make arrangements for their boarding.
When the Ronso had left, Zysac turned to Yuna and asked in his native language, "What have you been talking about?" Up until now, he'd been sitting quietly with the enormous backpack on the floor in front of him. He had eaten a little, sipped a little, and was mostly content. It was just he could not understand.
"It's about our mission," Rikku replied, annoyance fringing the edges of her words.
"We'll be resting here until the storm clears, and then we will go further up the mountain," Yuna added, much more kindly. She pulled the goggles from over her eyes and let them sit on top of her shiny brown hair. Her cloak she had folded over her arms in her lap.
"It's not his fault he can't understand," Yuna said to her cousin in a whisper. "Why are you so snappy with him, Rikku?"
Rikku just sighed. "I know, I just get irritated with him for some reason. I should have brought someone else."
Yuna didn't comment at the time; she didn't believe it was exactly moral to argue over Zysac when he was sitting right there. Even if he was clueless as to their conversation—which he obviously wasn't. His eyes were on the floor, and he had the aura about him of a guilty child just waiting to be punished while his parents decide on the sentence.
Yuna made a mental note to discuss this very seriously with Rikku later.
Kimahri returned and told them that they would be staying with his late mother's friend, who ran an inn of sorts, but it was more like a boarding house. It was just next door to this building, the big open room filled with children, that Rikku told her companions was an orphanage.
Rikku dragged Zysac along to unpack at their new lodgings, but Yuna said she needed to go for a little walk to clear her head. After the struggle up the mountain, the two looked quizzically at her, wondering how she could possibly need any more of the bitterly cold air in her lungs.
Yuna had her goggles fastened tightly over her eyes and the cloak's hood wrapped securely around her hair, the rest of the garment buttoned up to shelter her body all the way down to her ankles. She rubbed her gloved hands together vigorously as the afternoon sun, still hidden for the most part by clouds, began to melt away behind the silvery peaks that jutted out into the gray sky.
She strolled around the perimeter of the central, open area similar to that on Besaid. She smiled friendlily at those who passed, but, for the most part, she resigned herself to deep thought.
For some reason, she first thought of Lulu. The dramatic changes in the women's relationship over the last year were a tender topic for Yuna's heart, but now, at a more than safe distance from home, she was relatively comfortable to consider it.
I hate you.
It was what she had told her dearest friend in all the world. It was the most hurtful thing to say, and the words, at the time, had been designed to inflict pain. And, above all else, it was something that could not be taken back.
Yuna had not hated Lulu then, and she never for a second believed she did. The thing she hated was what Lulu had said. That, just maybe, there was truth behind it.
The conflict was a result of Yuna's own, overpowering weakness, she knew. She had insisted Tidus was still alive, that he would come back to her somehow, or maybe she could find him. But some part of her began to doubt, and that doubt was a hidden cancer that grew ever so slowly with each passing day. Sometimes, it swelled up so terribly that she had to acknowledge it, and that was a horrendous feeling.
Yuna worried she had been lying to herself too long. Maybe it was a lie. Maybe she had been self-medicating herself with the story that Tidus would come back in order to cure herself from the crushing loneliness.
If it wasn't a lie, then why did she have doubts? And, if it was, how long could she keep it up? How long had she had been under the illusion, and what could happen when she finally emerged from the warm cocoon?
There were occasions when the Summoner scolded herself vehemently, much worse than Lulu, about her recent path in life. Before meeting Tidus, Yuna had been strong, a bit scared, maybe, but able to face most challenges. With him, she gained a sort of special power, the strength that comes from happiness, from having someone you love believe in you and your goals wholeheartedly.
But, without Tidus, she had crumbled, her self-control degrading rapidly to a point where strength only lay on her tough shell. With fantasies, and perhaps what were lies, she possessed a superficial sort of courage to face the day and its simple struggles. At these points, those around her would sort of smile and pray on the inside that she was happy, that there was finally a break in the clouds, a shaft of light penetrating the darkness.
Yuna was used to living for other people's happiness. She had even been prepared to sacrifice her life for it. She wondered before concerning which was the greatest gift, one's life or one's death, but never had come to any sort of conclusion.
It was not until her need to die had disappeared with Sin that she had discovered the answer.
Yuna had always cherished people. It was something that was just born in her: a simple, undying love for all the goodness and beauty humanity possessed. Her mother had shown her true devotion, as had her father, even though both left their daughter early in life. After that, there was always Kimahri, Lulu, Wakka, and the elders of Besaid Temple around, to watch over and nurture her.
She had grown up with simple people living their lives as best they could. Most were facing the first Calm in a great many years, and their faces were always filled with joy. There was no time for malice or squabbling, not when peace existed everywhere to be exploited.
Yuna had seen this safety ripped away when Sin returned. As soon as she saw one child cry tears for a dead parent, her mind was made up to become a Summoner, to do what her father had done for the wonderful people of Spira. She had known her entire life—and all to well—what it meant to be a Summoner, to give of yourself to beckon forth the most powerful spirits, the fayth, to finally give your whole self in order to kill Sin.
Yuna was blessed enough to go on a journey with her closest friends, who also possessed powerful skills of physical brawn and magic. And then she was fortunate to receive the additional aid of the master guardian Sir Auron, the thievery of her Al-Bhed cousin Rikku, and, lastly, the courage and confidence of a misplaced young blitzer.
Yuna had always planned on a great pilgrimage, what would be the journey of her life. She wanted to see all she could of the world, become friends with everyone she met, and to laugh and feel good. Being Braska's only child, and then, on top of that, a Summoner, there was already the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had learned to smile and laugh when she wanted to cry. But, on this journey, she wanted true laughter, true happiness, and she had gotten it.
Something she hadn't counted on was falling in love.
That had complicated things severely. At times it gave her an elated feeling, but, at others, it filled her with despair. She knew she and Tidus could never be together, not if she was to die, not if he belonged to another world. He was always there to support her, and she worried for him, if he would mourn her like Lulu did for Chappu. The few kisses Tidus gave her and the few times they clasped hands meant everything to Yuna, but she could not dwell on love like other girls her age did.
But then, with Tidus's determination, Yuna's party had found another solution, had brought the Eternal Calm, had saved their Summoner's life. But then faded Tidus, who, perhaps, was never quite real at all, not in the way most are part of reality. With him went Sir Auron and all the other Unsent, but it was their time to go—past time.
And it was then that living became a chore, a struggle. Yuna felt even more pressure than before, but this time it was to be happy in order to make others happy, not simply continue on like before. The people looked to her as a leader for this new world, the Spira that belonged to the living, but a realm that had lost practically all leadership.
If the goal of each day was not any longer to survive Sin, to fight Sin, to live in spite of Sin, then what was it? If there was no Yevon, then who was to hear the pleas of the faithful? If the Maesters were gone, who would bring order to the many groups, who would maintain peace between the races?
There were no answers to these questions, no definite ones, not yet. There were a million opinions but no agreements, no compromises. People with similar ideals had banded together. Some wanted to bring a stable religion back—those of New Yevon. Others desired a very democratic society run by the young and energetic—the Young Persons' Alliance. These were the major groups, and they shared the most conflicts, but a dozen other similar organizations popped up everywhere.
Yuna had been pleaded with time and time again to marry the leader of such-and-such group, to take charge of these people, to become a High Maetress—the most shocking proposal, Yuna believed. Even though she passionately objected, it seemed that, in a few years, she might be given the reigns to Spira whether she liked it or not.
Even if she had no title as of yet, Yuna was given the unspoken task of carrying the hopes and dreams of the people. Wherever she went, many sets of concerned eyes followed her, tsked at the dark rain cloud which seemed forever poised above her beautiful head, asked if there was anything they could do to cheer her up a little. And these were her friends.
She was always terribly busy turning visitors down for this thing and that, but she still found time to mourn for Tidus, to pity herself, to endure a pain as eternal as the Calm.
And she realized that her power over her emotions was slowly crumbling. She had started lashing out randomly against it, doing things such as losing her composure in front of a noble guest, things such as telling her best friend she hated her.
The sun was completely gone now, and the gray sky steadily approached the deepest shade of black. It was still early, but the light snuck out early during the winter season, perhaps to escape the cold.
Yuna paused behind a building to gain a little relief from the wind. The children had slowly trickled inside, moving their endless play indoors at the assistance of their hornless mothers.
She breathed in the strong scent of wood—something close to cedar—and sighed. She had been happy before when the giggles of the young and innocent had tickled her ears, for it seemed as though the only truly happy people were those who didn't know any better.
Yuna had missed a great part of her childhood, what with her mother and father gone, and that special pain you can hide from others but not yourself. Yuna always felt a little lonely, no matter what was going on. It was only with Tidus that…
The wind changed directions, looping around Yuna's shelter and blowing straight in her face to beat it until it was red. She gave a little cry and ducked her head, folding in on her knees to slink down the wall in a safe ball.
It seemed to Yuna many times that life was a curse when you doubt what you want to believe.
A person sees life through his own eyes. He sees things as he wants them to be, and to him they are so. His ears pick up the voices he wants to hear call for him, he smells the scent of the flowers he loves most, and he tastes only what he believes is the best food of life.
However, when the fiend known as doubt is present, this person's world crumbles slowly. He tries to erase the images of suffering and pain from his mind's eye, but they won't be scrubbed out. He talks to himself with the voices he needs, but his heart senses the farce. The flowers and food have gone rancid.
This enemy had been sneaking up on Yuna for a great while.
She headed back to join her friends. I must find Tidus soon, she told herself. I will, I will find him…
There was a bad taste in her mouth.
- - -