Braska's Journey
Bevelle – Chapter One - The Trials

Auron and Braska stood in the circular antechamber that gave a Summoner access to the Fayth.  The strong, clear tenor of a youthful boy filled the room with the strains of the Hymn.  The priest turned to look at his Guardian.  "Well, Auron, wish me luck."

The warrior slid his massive blade into its sheathe on his back.  "Why, Lord Braska?"  He smiled slightly.  "You do not need it."

Braska chuckled and bowed his head.  The Helm of Yevon that graced his head shook with the motion.  "Thank you for your confidence.  I wish I felt it."

A strong hand reached out and settled on Braska's shoulder.  Auron motioned toward the Chamber with his head.  "The Fayth awaits you.  Go."

Taking a deep breath the tall slender man nodded and turned toward the door.  Staff before him, he walked with a self-assurance he didn't necessarily feel and ascended the short flight of stairs.  When he reached the landing, he hesitated.  Turning back to look at Auron he said, "I do not know how long it will take."  His face was an open book.  He was apprehensive.  Even had it not been, Auron could feel the man's concerns though the Call of Guardianship.

Taking two steps toward his Summoner, the Guardian folded his arms across his chest.  He exuded faith and confidence.  "I know.  I will be here when you return."

Braska's face lit up in a smile.  He drew himself up, turned, and entered the Chamber of the Fayth.

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Auron paced the room for a while.  He had a lot on his mind.  He knew that Braska was fine – the initial trepidation that had flowed through their link was now replaced by calm confidence and peaceful tranquility.  The warrior smiled.  His Summoner was a good man, a faithful man, and he had every confidence in him.

He did not, however, have much faith in his Church right now.

The Trials had been a shock.  Braska had seemed unphased by the fact that they were filled with machina.  But, then, Braska rarely seemed outwardly phased by anything.  Most surprising to Auron had been the lack of any feeling of amazement or outrage from the priest through the Call.  It was almost as though his Lord had expected to find the sacrilegious things within the Trials.  It had shaken the monk badly, though he'd done his best to repress it and move forward.  He knew that Braska would know his feelings, but Auron refused to speak about them.  They had a goal, and the task ahead had to be focused upon first.  Once Braska obtained the Aeon, and officially became a Summoner, he could worry about the blasphemy he had seen. 

"Do not be concerned, Auron.  Machina are no different from any other tool.  Just as you use a knife or sword, you use these.  I will teach you, if you like.  They are really very simple once you learn…"

Auron's face was furrowed in concentration.  He strode back and forth, boot-falls echoing against the stone walls, as he thought about the Trials. Then he thought about Inek, Lord High Priest of Bevelle, and his refusal to administer the Oaths for the rituals.  It irked him.  His thoughts moved to the long days he had spent in the Well being tortured for being an honest man.  Shifting again, he thought about the unfair Censure and the dishonor it brought his name and that of his Summoner. He seethed.  Auron's strides across the stone floor quickened unconsciously as his temper flared.  Finally, he stopped.

This is getting me nowhere and expends useless energy.

The warrior took a deep breath and moved to the base of the stairs.  He knelt in seiza position and began his breathing exercises.  Focusing his gaze on the step before him, he concentrated on the act of intaking and exhaling air from his lungs.  He allowed his mind to clear.  Opening his senses to the room, he let the beauty of the Hymn wash over him; filling him with peace and serenity. 

Now, I wait.

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Auron lost all sense of time as he meditated in the antechamber.  Then, he felt something strange.  An unidentifiable sensation washed through him and his eyes flashed open.  He looked upward to the doorway.  Something had happened.

He stood and ascended the stairs as the door began to slide open.  Braska leaned against his staff and the archway; sweat dripping from his forehead. Auron stopped a few paces from his Summoner and placed his right hand, at the ready, on the hilt of his massive blade.  "My Lord?  Have you obtained the Aeon?"

The warrior was almost certain that he knew the answer, but he had to be sure.  There were no outward indicators that Braska had joined with the Fayth and produced a heretic Aeon, but it was better to be prepared.

Braska's head moved weakly up and down.  The soothing voice was soft and tired.  "Yes, Auron.  I have.  I have become a Summoner…"

A small noise emitted from the warrior as his hand released the sword hilt.  The words brought a rush of conflicting emotions to the fore.  They played over the monk's face as he closed the distance between himself and the man before him.  Auron was relieved that his friend had not become a heretic.  The chance of such an occurrence was less than remote, but it existed and he would not have wanted to kill his Lord. He was proud of Braska, and proud to be his Guardian in that moment.  Yet, he was also overwhelmingly dejected.   He cared deeply for the man, and now Auron would guard Braska as he walked Spira to his death.  The warrior had thought he was prepared for this moment, but he was wrong.

"Braska," the monk said, his voice filled with emotion.  "I told you.  You needed no luck."

A pale and shaking hand reached forward to rest on Auron's shoulder for support.  He smiled.  Braska leaned his weight into the solid and comforting form of his Guardian.  Auron moved and slid himself under Braska to support him, an arm around his waist.  Together they walked down the stairs and exited the antechamber – Summoner and Guardian side by side.

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Only Wellak, Kinoc, and Dakat had been waiting when the pair exited the Trials.  The Weapons Master stood - arms folded across his chest - and nodded his approval before wordlessly turning and exiting the antechamber. 

Dakat Ronso had smiled, his teeth showing in a grin that made him seem like a carnivore out for dinner, and clapped Braska on the back with a huge paw.  Grunting, the bass voice had rumbled, "Dakat is pleased.  Now, Braska will defeat Sin." 

The Summoner had smiled and, chuckling, looked up at the huge walking pelt of blue.  "Thank you, Dakat, for everything."

The black mage had then nodded and left the chamber as well, leaving the two with only Kinoc for company.  The sandy haired man had a strange look on his face as he stepped toward Auron.  Then, he seemed to change his mind, and turned to face Braska instead. He bowed low and performed the sign of prayer.  "Lord Braska, I am pleased that you are well and that the Fayth have bestowed upon you the Aeon."  He rose and looked the Summoner in the eye. His voice was filled with deep emotion. "You are a good man, Braska.  I know you did everything you could for my mother.  I thank you for that."

Braska was visibly moved.  He reached forward a hand and placed it to Kinoc's shoulder.  "Thank you, Kinoc.  Your mother was a good woman and I was happy to do all I could for her.  You, too, have a good heart.  Do not let the intrigues of the temple allow you to forget that."

A long and meaningful look passed between the two before Braska withdrew and turned to Auron.  "I am tired, Auron.  It has been a long time since either of us ate or slept.  I will come to your home tomorrow and we will decide our day of departure."

The warrior nodded and turned to Kinoc.  The two still had much that lay, unspoken, between them.  Auron was unsure if they would ever regain the friendship that they once had.  He grieved for its loss.  "Emerline is staying in my old room, Kinoc.  If you would like to see your sister, you are welcome in my home."

"Thank you, but not today."  The man's tone was brusque.  "I have been away from the Garrison for quite a time already.  Perhaps another day."

Auron nodded sadly.  He did not disguise his disappointment.  "I understand."

"Besides, I must stop at the locks."  Kinoc's voice shifted to a tone of light conversation, passing over the tension between he and the Guardian. "Some crazy man was picked up on the outskirts of town.  He must have had a brush with Sin.  He insists that he is from Zanarkand, of all places!  Powerful fighter too.  He took out six Crusaders before they got him restrained.  If he hadn't, he'd probably just be in a sick room in the infirmary."

Braska's eyes widened.  "What?"

"Outrageous, isn't it?"  Kinoc shook his head.  "Zanarkand!"

The Summoner looked distracted as he nodded his head.  "Yes. Outrageous…"

Kinoc bowed again and excused himself. Braska barely noticed.  The change in the Summoner was not lost on Auron and he looked at his friend in question.  "Lord Braska, what is it?"

A delicate hand waved absently.  "Nothing.  I just find that bit of news intriguing."

"Hn." Auron grunted in reply.  Something was up, but Braska wasn't sharing.  He made a mental note to inquire about it tomorrow.  Right now, the man needed something to eat and some rest.  "Shall I accompany you to your new residence, Braska?"

The Summoner smiled brightly.  When they were alone, Auron was more frequently dropping the honorific.  It pleased him.  "No.  You go on.  Shana will be worried and want to know all about the Trials."

Auron frowned.  "You are sure?"  His tone was concerned.

Braska nodded leaning against his staff.  "I am fine, Auron. Really."

Russet eyes narrowed as they looked at the Summoner, appraising him.  The link told him the man was exhausted and weak.  "No.  I will see you home to bed."

Blue green eyes locked on Auron's. The voice became stern.  "Auron, I said no.  It is not necessary."

"Fine.  But I will see you as far as the marketplace.  It is on my way home."  Auron's tone said he would brook no argument.

Braska gave in, knowing Auron only wanted to help.  He looked at his Guardian and said, with great seriousness, "Auron, I want to thank you as well."

Auron knew his friend was starting to dwell on where things were headed.  He determined to lighten the mood.  Smiling widely, he said, "I am your Guardian now, my Lord."  Dark eyes flashed with an almost mischievous light. "All in a day's work."

The Summoner could not help himself. His laughter rang out in the chamber for a very long time.