Part 11
XxxxxxXxxxxxX
I do not have very much to pack. My sword is my own, and I have my
clothes on my back. The tokkuri was a gag gift, but it will come in
useful despite the fact that it was a joke. The only time I'd drunk
sake I'd had barely three thimblefuls of the stuff and all I could
recollect afterwards was stumbling to the ground outside the tavern,
throwing up violently and unpleasantly, and then waking with a
rotten headache the next day. Wen thought it was funny and
commemorated the episode by buying me a jug full of the liquor,
which he'd proceeded to drink on my behalf.
Loud footsteps approached my cell then the door banged open. "Auron!
You won't believe the nonsense I just heard!"
I look up at him and he takes in my attitude, the monk's robe folded
neatly on my bed and his words falter. "They say you've refused
her...you can't be serious!
"For Yevon's sake, Auron. How hard can it be? Marriage isn't that
bad a deal." I don't reply, and he comes over and puts a hand on my
shoulder. "So she's no raving beauty, it's not going to matter with
the lights out."
"If you think I'd marry under such circumstances you don't know me
well enough, Kinoc."
"But they'll crucify you!"
"As you can no doubt see, I'm not planning on hanging around for the
execution."
"You're leaving too? Where will you go?"
"Zanarkand."
"What! But that's insane! You're not some fool to go wasting your
life on a fool's pilgrimage..."
"I have already asked and answered, it is too late to undo."
"Who is the summoner?"
"Lord Braska."
"Braska? The heretic? Do you know he's an Al Bhed lover?"
Kinoc sits on my bed, settling in to tell me the story. Kinoc always
had a way with words, persuasive, charming and erudite. I listen
with interest as he continues. "He married an Al Bhed woman then
went around flaunting the relationship without shame. He was
supposed to be brought before the clergy but never stayed in one
place long enough to be apprehended.
"Then he was taken in at Luca, after seeing his wife and child off
on an Al Bhed ship. While he was being questioned some fool came in
and said the ship his wife and daugher was on was lost at sea. And
Braska walked out, just like that. Never mind he was in the custody
of the warrior monks, no one who tried to stop him could lay a hand
on him. He went running down to the dock and someone there handed
him the baby from the marriage, saved by the grace of Yevon no
doubt, and Braska held the tiny squalling thing and began to say the
same thing, over and over again."
Wen pauses for effect. "'I will defeat Sin. I must defeat Sin.' And
after that no one could get through to him. They took him to Maester
Mika and told him he was going to face and defeat Sin, and Mika
would be a fool to try to stop him....
"He called the Grand Maester a fool to his very face! If the man
hadn't been demented by his loss he'd have been executed for that
alone. Maester Mika took pity on him and dropped the charges of
heresy, but I can tell you right now it was only because Mika knew
he'd go off on pilgrimage, the man would have been too dangerous to
let run around loose otherwise. And you're going with him?"
Kinoc's story is enlightening, but it does not deter me. "Yes. He
must finish his training, but I will be going with him when he is
ready."
I fasten my tokkuri to my belt and I am ready to leave the temple.
Kinoc follows me out to the courtyard. I know he would like to argue
further, to remind me of the plans he'd concocted for us, to become
the youngest Maesters in Yevon's long history. He was always the
ambitious one. But he also always knew when to quit, when arguing is
a wasted effort. "At least you'll come to say goodbye I hope, before
you leave."
"Yes. I promise to see you again before I go."
"Alright then. And if you need anything...Auron, you know you only
have to ask."
"I...thank you. You have always been a good friend."
He nods and that is it, I am free of all obligation except that to
my summoner. I feel lighter than I can ever recall in my life, and
make my way through Bevelle, surprised at the relief I feel at my
change in circumstance.
XxxxxxXxxxxxX
The boy is full of himself, cocksure and smartmouthed, just like his
father. He runs forward and slashes at the fiend but his sword
glances off its hardened shell, unable to pierce its armour.
I shift my grip bringing my other hand up to the hilt of my sword,
then focus my energy, visualising the thin edge of my blade, a
sharpness that can cut through anything and everything. I am not so
fast nor agile but it is of no consequence. My sword slashes an arc
that cuts the very air instead of moving through it. The fiend can
neither evade nor defend itself and explodes into a thousand lights
that drift away.
"See? Sir Auron is the best guardian that ever lived."
I look back to see Wakka loudly proclaiming my supposed exploits. It
is strange, disconcerting to be so highly regarded. I know it is
unwarranted, but it occurs to me that we were all probably brought
back into Yevon's fold in the wake of our 'success', reclaimed from
our heresies in death, to maintain the beautiful illusion that Yevon
created. There is no point trying to enlighten him to the truth, he
will either see or not see, in time. When we reach Zanarkand will be
soon enough for all of them to learn exactly what lies at the heart
of Yevon.
XxxxxxXxxxxxX
The fiend whirls like a dervish, crackling and hissing through the
air as it launches itself directly towards Jecht. He is agile,
jumping out of the way at the last moment, and bringing his sword up
to slash horizontally across its eyes. It is a mistake, and a bad
one.
A lava-like stream of ichor erupts from the fiend's ruined eyeball,
coating his sword, running down the hilt and over his hand and arm.
He lets out a strangled yell as he drops to his knees. I run forward
and slash at the disabled fiend, hoping to destroy it, but although
my blade cuts a gouge through its underbelly it still hovers in the
air, ballooning out to massive proportions as it is enraged by the
insult to its flesh.
Braska turns towards Jecht, raising his staff and beginning a prayer
of healing. The second fiend glows a deeper, darker red as it
prepares to charge towards him, and I know that he is defenceless
and unable to evade its attack, so I do the only thing I can,
placing myself between him and the fiend. I bring my sword up from
left to right and deliver a glancing blow with the flat of the
blade, diverting its course and only receive a long grazing burn of
heat across my upper arm in return. It stings and burns like
hellfire but unlike Jecht I manage to retain my grip on my sword.
Jecht retrieves his sword and stands again, but the first fiend
chooses to attack him once more. This time I am too slow to
intervene, although I try, and Jecht, woozy from the last attack is
not so quick to evade. This time the fiend delivers a forceful blow
to his chest and he drops like a stone under the onslaught, landing
flat on his back. Braska, aware of the damage that I'd suffered
turned to me indecisively, but I waved him off.
"See to Jecht."
He nods, and turns once more, and this time my determination lends
me strength. I again attack the weakest fiend and this time my blow
sends it reeling to earth. One down, one to go.
I turn and run back to my place beside Braska, watching for the
other fiend's counter-move. This time it perceives me as the
greatest threat and attacks accordingly. I do not make the same
mistake Jecht did, waiting until it is almost upon me to jump
sideways, turning as it passes me and bringing my sword around to
slash through the rear of the creature's body. It shrieks, a high
pitched hissing of gas escaping from its wound but it is already
past me and all I feel is a wash of heated air as it turns and faces
us once more.
I don't give it time to strike again, rushing it and when it
launches itself skywards I alter the angle of my sword stroke,
bringing it up almost vertically at full reach. Despite its evasive
manouvre I manage to do moderate damage. One more hit should be
enough. Jecht is standing, although he is swaying slightly on his
feet and looking quite chagrined at the course of this battle.
Braska raises his staff again, but this time in the fiend's
direction. I feel a blast of cold air shoot forward from his hands
and cold blue crystals begin to form in the air around the fiend. It
is enough. The fiend breaks apart and pyreflies emerge, faint blurs
of colour that twist and drift slowly out of existence.
I let my sword drop point first to the ground and lean against it,
the threat over for now. Jecht however throws his own sword onto the
ground in disgust.
"Damn, I hate this! And I'm beginning to really hate fire."
He collapses to sit cross-legged in the centre of the road, and
occasionally shivers in reaction. Braska rests his palm on his
shoulder. "You were just unfortunate. Things will get better, I
promise."
He turns to me then, and on seeing the state I am in shows some
alarm as he hastens to stand in front of me. I drop my head to gaze
at the ground as his hand brushes over my shoulder. My attitude that
causes him to take a half step backward before beginning the prayer
of healing. I know that he sees my shame and regret, but he does not
guess the cause. I can say nothing, and my silence only makes this
distance grow between us.
Jecht watches us with uncomprehending eyes, his mind still on the
battle. "You're a pretty handy guy to have around," he says to me. I
look at him, surprised at the undisguised praise in his tone. I
hadn't expected it from him. "I don't suppose you could...give me
another lesson?"
At that I'm even more surprised. I nod without speaking.
"Alright! I'll kick some fiend's butt yet."
Braska laughs at his strange choice of words. He smiles warmly at
Jecht. "Auron is the best swordsman in Spira. And the best guardian.
But you already knew that."
"You're the expert, Braska." He picks his sword up out of the dust,
examining the blade and slashing experimentally at the air. "Well,
we ready?"
Braska nods and we continue on our way along the highroad.
XxxxxxXxxxxxX
End of Part 11
XxxxxxXxxxxxX
I do not have very much to pack. My sword is my own, and I have my
clothes on my back. The tokkuri was a gag gift, but it will come in
useful despite the fact that it was a joke. The only time I'd drunk
sake I'd had barely three thimblefuls of the stuff and all I could
recollect afterwards was stumbling to the ground outside the tavern,
throwing up violently and unpleasantly, and then waking with a
rotten headache the next day. Wen thought it was funny and
commemorated the episode by buying me a jug full of the liquor,
which he'd proceeded to drink on my behalf.
Loud footsteps approached my cell then the door banged open. "Auron!
You won't believe the nonsense I just heard!"
I look up at him and he takes in my attitude, the monk's robe folded
neatly on my bed and his words falter. "They say you've refused
her...you can't be serious!
"For Yevon's sake, Auron. How hard can it be? Marriage isn't that
bad a deal." I don't reply, and he comes over and puts a hand on my
shoulder. "So she's no raving beauty, it's not going to matter with
the lights out."
"If you think I'd marry under such circumstances you don't know me
well enough, Kinoc."
"But they'll crucify you!"
"As you can no doubt see, I'm not planning on hanging around for the
execution."
"You're leaving too? Where will you go?"
"Zanarkand."
"What! But that's insane! You're not some fool to go wasting your
life on a fool's pilgrimage..."
"I have already asked and answered, it is too late to undo."
"Who is the summoner?"
"Lord Braska."
"Braska? The heretic? Do you know he's an Al Bhed lover?"
Kinoc sits on my bed, settling in to tell me the story. Kinoc always
had a way with words, persuasive, charming and erudite. I listen
with interest as he continues. "He married an Al Bhed woman then
went around flaunting the relationship without shame. He was
supposed to be brought before the clergy but never stayed in one
place long enough to be apprehended.
"Then he was taken in at Luca, after seeing his wife and child off
on an Al Bhed ship. While he was being questioned some fool came in
and said the ship his wife and daugher was on was lost at sea. And
Braska walked out, just like that. Never mind he was in the custody
of the warrior monks, no one who tried to stop him could lay a hand
on him. He went running down to the dock and someone there handed
him the baby from the marriage, saved by the grace of Yevon no
doubt, and Braska held the tiny squalling thing and began to say the
same thing, over and over again."
Wen pauses for effect. "'I will defeat Sin. I must defeat Sin.' And
after that no one could get through to him. They took him to Maester
Mika and told him he was going to face and defeat Sin, and Mika
would be a fool to try to stop him....
"He called the Grand Maester a fool to his very face! If the man
hadn't been demented by his loss he'd have been executed for that
alone. Maester Mika took pity on him and dropped the charges of
heresy, but I can tell you right now it was only because Mika knew
he'd go off on pilgrimage, the man would have been too dangerous to
let run around loose otherwise. And you're going with him?"
Kinoc's story is enlightening, but it does not deter me. "Yes. He
must finish his training, but I will be going with him when he is
ready."
I fasten my tokkuri to my belt and I am ready to leave the temple.
Kinoc follows me out to the courtyard. I know he would like to argue
further, to remind me of the plans he'd concocted for us, to become
the youngest Maesters in Yevon's long history. He was always the
ambitious one. But he also always knew when to quit, when arguing is
a wasted effort. "At least you'll come to say goodbye I hope, before
you leave."
"Yes. I promise to see you again before I go."
"Alright then. And if you need anything...Auron, you know you only
have to ask."
"I...thank you. You have always been a good friend."
He nods and that is it, I am free of all obligation except that to
my summoner. I feel lighter than I can ever recall in my life, and
make my way through Bevelle, surprised at the relief I feel at my
change in circumstance.
XxxxxxXxxxxxX
The boy is full of himself, cocksure and smartmouthed, just like his
father. He runs forward and slashes at the fiend but his sword
glances off its hardened shell, unable to pierce its armour.
I shift my grip bringing my other hand up to the hilt of my sword,
then focus my energy, visualising the thin edge of my blade, a
sharpness that can cut through anything and everything. I am not so
fast nor agile but it is of no consequence. My sword slashes an arc
that cuts the very air instead of moving through it. The fiend can
neither evade nor defend itself and explodes into a thousand lights
that drift away.
"See? Sir Auron is the best guardian that ever lived."
I look back to see Wakka loudly proclaiming my supposed exploits. It
is strange, disconcerting to be so highly regarded. I know it is
unwarranted, but it occurs to me that we were all probably brought
back into Yevon's fold in the wake of our 'success', reclaimed from
our heresies in death, to maintain the beautiful illusion that Yevon
created. There is no point trying to enlighten him to the truth, he
will either see or not see, in time. When we reach Zanarkand will be
soon enough for all of them to learn exactly what lies at the heart
of Yevon.
XxxxxxXxxxxxX
The fiend whirls like a dervish, crackling and hissing through the
air as it launches itself directly towards Jecht. He is agile,
jumping out of the way at the last moment, and bringing his sword up
to slash horizontally across its eyes. It is a mistake, and a bad
one.
A lava-like stream of ichor erupts from the fiend's ruined eyeball,
coating his sword, running down the hilt and over his hand and arm.
He lets out a strangled yell as he drops to his knees. I run forward
and slash at the disabled fiend, hoping to destroy it, but although
my blade cuts a gouge through its underbelly it still hovers in the
air, ballooning out to massive proportions as it is enraged by the
insult to its flesh.
Braska turns towards Jecht, raising his staff and beginning a prayer
of healing. The second fiend glows a deeper, darker red as it
prepares to charge towards him, and I know that he is defenceless
and unable to evade its attack, so I do the only thing I can,
placing myself between him and the fiend. I bring my sword up from
left to right and deliver a glancing blow with the flat of the
blade, diverting its course and only receive a long grazing burn of
heat across my upper arm in return. It stings and burns like
hellfire but unlike Jecht I manage to retain my grip on my sword.
Jecht retrieves his sword and stands again, but the first fiend
chooses to attack him once more. This time I am too slow to
intervene, although I try, and Jecht, woozy from the last attack is
not so quick to evade. This time the fiend delivers a forceful blow
to his chest and he drops like a stone under the onslaught, landing
flat on his back. Braska, aware of the damage that I'd suffered
turned to me indecisively, but I waved him off.
"See to Jecht."
He nods, and turns once more, and this time my determination lends
me strength. I again attack the weakest fiend and this time my blow
sends it reeling to earth. One down, one to go.
I turn and run back to my place beside Braska, watching for the
other fiend's counter-move. This time it perceives me as the
greatest threat and attacks accordingly. I do not make the same
mistake Jecht did, waiting until it is almost upon me to jump
sideways, turning as it passes me and bringing my sword around to
slash through the rear of the creature's body. It shrieks, a high
pitched hissing of gas escaping from its wound but it is already
past me and all I feel is a wash of heated air as it turns and faces
us once more.
I don't give it time to strike again, rushing it and when it
launches itself skywards I alter the angle of my sword stroke,
bringing it up almost vertically at full reach. Despite its evasive
manouvre I manage to do moderate damage. One more hit should be
enough. Jecht is standing, although he is swaying slightly on his
feet and looking quite chagrined at the course of this battle.
Braska raises his staff again, but this time in the fiend's
direction. I feel a blast of cold air shoot forward from his hands
and cold blue crystals begin to form in the air around the fiend. It
is enough. The fiend breaks apart and pyreflies emerge, faint blurs
of colour that twist and drift slowly out of existence.
I let my sword drop point first to the ground and lean against it,
the threat over for now. Jecht however throws his own sword onto the
ground in disgust.
"Damn, I hate this! And I'm beginning to really hate fire."
He collapses to sit cross-legged in the centre of the road, and
occasionally shivers in reaction. Braska rests his palm on his
shoulder. "You were just unfortunate. Things will get better, I
promise."
He turns to me then, and on seeing the state I am in shows some
alarm as he hastens to stand in front of me. I drop my head to gaze
at the ground as his hand brushes over my shoulder. My attitude that
causes him to take a half step backward before beginning the prayer
of healing. I know that he sees my shame and regret, but he does not
guess the cause. I can say nothing, and my silence only makes this
distance grow between us.
Jecht watches us with uncomprehending eyes, his mind still on the
battle. "You're a pretty handy guy to have around," he says to me. I
look at him, surprised at the undisguised praise in his tone. I
hadn't expected it from him. "I don't suppose you could...give me
another lesson?"
At that I'm even more surprised. I nod without speaking.
"Alright! I'll kick some fiend's butt yet."
Braska laughs at his strange choice of words. He smiles warmly at
Jecht. "Auron is the best swordsman in Spira. And the best guardian.
But you already knew that."
"You're the expert, Braska." He picks his sword up out of the dust,
examining the blade and slashing experimentally at the air. "Well,
we ready?"
Braska nods and we continue on our way along the highroad.
XxxxxxXxxxxxX
End of Part 11
